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by proscription and bills of outlawry,

      Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,

      Have put to death an hundred senators.

      BRUTUS

      Therein our letters do not well agree;

      Mine speak of seventy senators that died

      By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

      CASSIUS

      Cicero one!

      MESSALA

      Cicero is dead,

      And by that order of proscription.

      Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

      BRUTUS

      No, Messala.

      MESSALA

      Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

      BRUTUS

      Nothing, Messala.

      MESSALA

      That, methinks, is strange.

      BRUTUS

      Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?

      MESSALA

      No, my lord.

      BRUTUS

      Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.

      MESSALA

      Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:

      For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.

      BRUTUS

      Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala:

      With meditating that she must die once,

      I have the patience to endure it now.

      MESSALA

      Even so great men great losses should endure.

      CASSIUS

      I have as much of this in art as you,

      But yet my nature could not bear it so.

      BRUTUS

      Well, to our work alive. What do you think

      Of marching to Philippi presently?

      CASSIUS

      I do not think it good.

      BRUTUS

      Your reason?

      CASSIUS

      This it is:

      ’Tis better that the enemy seek us:

      So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,

      Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,

      Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.

      BRUTUS

      Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.

      The people ’twixt Philippi and this ground

      Do stand but in a forced affection;

      For they have grudged us contribution:

      The enemy, marching along by them,

      By them shall make a fuller number up,

      Come on refresh’d, new-added, and encouraged;

      From which advantage shall we cut him off,

      If at Philippi we do face him there,

      These people at our back.

      CASSIUS

      Hear me, good brother.

      BRUTUS

      Under your pardon. You must note beside,

      That we have tried the utmost of our friends,

      Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:

      The enemy increaseth every day;

      We, at the height, are ready to decline.

      There is a tide in the affairs of men,

      Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

      Omitted, all the voyage of their life

      Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

      On such a full sea are we now afloat;

      And we must take the current when it serves,

      Or lose our ventures.

      CASSIUS

      Then, with your will, go on;

      We’ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

      BRUTUS

      The deep of night is crept upon our talk,

      And nature must obey necessity;

      Which we will niggard with a little rest.

      There is no more to say?

      CASSIUS

      No more. Good night:

      Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.

      BRUTUS

      Lucius!

      Enter LUCIUS

      My gown.

      Exit LUCIUS

      Farewell, good Messala:

      Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius,

      Good night, and good repose.

      CASSIUS

      O my dear brother!

      This was an ill beginning of the night:

      Never come such division ’tween our souls!

      Let it not, Brutus.

      BRUTUS

      Every thing is well.

      CASSIUS

      Good night, my lord.

      BRUTUS

      Good night, good brother.

      TITINIUS MESSALA

      Good night, Lord Brutus.

      BRUTUS

      Farewell, every one.

      Exeunt all but BRUTUS

      Re-enter LUCIUS, with the gown

      Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

      LUCIUS

      Here in the tent.

      BRUTUS

      What, thou speak’st drowsily?

      Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o’er-watch’d.

      Call Claudius and some other of my men:

      I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.

      LUCIUS

      Varro and Claudius!

      Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS

      VARRO

      Calls my lord?

      BRUTUS

      I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;

      It may be I shall raise you by and by

      On business to my brother Cassius.

      VARRO

      So

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