Bru. Good Gentlemen, looke fresh and merrily, Let not our lookes put on our purposes, But beare it as our Roman Actors do, With vntyr'd Spirits, and formall Constancie, And so good morrow to you euery one.

Exeunt.

Manet Brutus.

Boy: Lucius: Fast asleepe? It is no matter, Enioy the hony-heauy-Dew of Slumber: Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies, Which busie care drawes, in the braines of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. Enter Portia.

Por. Brutus, my Lord

Bru. Portia: What meane you? wherfore rise you now? It is not for your health, thus to commit Your weake condition, to the raw cold morning

Por. Nor for yours neither. Y'haue vngently Brutus Stole from my bed: and yesternight at Supper You sodainly arose, and walk'd about, Musing, and sighing, with your armes acrosse And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd vpon me, with vngentle lookes. I vrg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head, And too impatiently stampt with your foote: Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, But with an angry wafter of your hand Gaue signe for me to leaue you: So I did, Fearing to strengthen that impatience Which seem'd too much inkindled; and withall, Hoping it was but an effect of Humor, Which sometime hath his houre with euery man. It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor sleepe; And could it worke so much vpon your shape, As it hath much preuayl'd on your Condition, I should not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of greefe

Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all

Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health, He would embrace the meanes to come by it

Bru. Why so I do: good Portia go to bed

Por. Is Brutus sicke? And is it Physicall To walke vnbraced, and sucke vp the humours Of the danke Morning? What, is Brutus sicke? And will he steale out of his wholsome bed To dare the vile contagion of the Night? And tempt the Rhewmy, and vnpurged Ayre, To adde vnto his sicknesse? No my Brutus, You haue some sicke Offence within your minde, Which by the Right and Vertue of my place I ought to know of: And vpon my knees, I charme you, by my once commended Beauty, By all your vowes of Loue, and that great Vow Which did incorporate and make vs one, That you vnfold to me, your selfe; your halfe Why you are heauy: and what men to night Haue had resort to you: for heere haue beene Some sixe or seuen, who did hide their faces Euen from darknesse

Bru. Kneele not gentle Portia

Por. I should not neede, if you were gentle Brutus. Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets That appertaine to you? Am I your Selfe, But as it were in sort, or limitation? To keepe with you at Meales, comfort your Bed, And talke to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the Suburbs Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife

Bru. You are my true and honourable Wife, As deere to me, as are the ruddy droppes That visit my sad heart

Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret. I graunt I am a Woman; but withall, A Woman that Lord Brutus tooke to Wife: I graunt I am a Woman; but withall, A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter. Thinke you, I am no stronger then my Sex Being so Father'd, and so Husbanded? Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I haue made strong proofe of my Constancie, Giuing my selfe a voluntary wound Heere, in the Thigh: Can I beare that with patience, And not my Husbands Secrets? Bru. O ye Gods! Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.

Knocke.

Harke, harke, one knockes: Portia go in a while, And by and by thy bosome shall partake The secrets of my Heart. All my engagements, I will construe to thee, All the Charractery of my sad browes: Leaue me with hast.

Exit Portia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's that knockes

Luc. Heere is a sicke man that would speak with you

Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how? Cai. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue

Bru. O what a time haue you chose out braue Caius To weare a Kerchiefe? Would you were not sicke

Cai. I am not sicke, if Brutus haue in hand Any exploit worthy the name of Honor

Bru. Such an exploit haue I in hand Ligarius, Had you a healthfull eare to heare of it

Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before, I heere discard my sicknesse. Soule of Rome, Braue Sonne, deriu'd from Honourable Loines, Thou like an Exorcist, hast coniur'd vp My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne, And I will striue with things impossible, Yea get the better of them. What's to do? Bru. A peece of worke, That will make sicke men whole

Cai. But are not some whole, that we must make sicke? Bru. That must we also. What it is my Caius, I shall vnfold to thee, as we are going, To whom it must be done

Cai. Set on your foote, And with a heart new-fir'd, I follow you, To do I know not what: but it sufficeth That Brutus leads me on.

Thunder

Bru. Follow me then.

Exeunt.

Thunder & Lightning

Enter Iulius Caesar in his Night-gowne.

Caesar. Nor Heauen, nor Earth, Haue beene at peace to night: Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleepe cryed out, Helpe, ho: They murther Caesar. Who's within? Enter a Seruant.

Ser. My Lord

Caes Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice, And bring me their opinions of Successe

Ser. I will my Lord.

Exit

Enter Calphurnia.

Cal. What mean you Caesar? Think you to walk forth? You shall not stirre out of your house to day

Caes Caesar shall forth; the things that threaten'd me, Ne're look'd but on my backe: When they shall see The face of Caesar, they are vanished

Calp. Caesar, I neuer stood on Ceremonies, Yet now they fright me: There is one within, Besides the things that we haue heard and seene, Recounts most horrid sights seene by the Watch. A Lionnesse hath whelped in the streets, And Graues haue yawn'd, and yeelded vp their dead; Fierce fiery Warriours fight vpon the Clouds In Rankes and Squadrons, and right forme of Warre Which drizel'd blood vpon the Capitoll: The noise of Battell hurtled in the Ayre: Horsses do neigh, and dying men did grone, And Ghosts did shrieke and squeale about the streets. O Caesar, these things are beyond all vse, And I do feare them

Caes What can be auoyded Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods? Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these Predictions Are to the world in generall, as to Caesar

Calp. When Beggers dye, there are no Comets seen, The Heauens themselues blaze forth the death of Princes Caes Cowards dye many times before their deaths, The valiant neuer taste of death but once: Of all the Wonders that I yet haue heard, It seemes to me most strange that men should feare, Seeing that death, a necessary end Will come, when it will come. Enter a Seruant.

What say the Augurers? Ser. They would not haue you to stirre forth to day. Plucking the intrailes of an Offering forth, They could not finde a heart within the beast

Caes The Gods do this in shame of Cowardice: Caesar should be a Beast without a heart If he should stay at home to day for feare: No Caesar shall not; Danger knowes full well That Caesar is more dangerous then he. We heare two Lyons litter'd in one day, And I the elder and more terrible, And Caesar shall go foorth

Calp. Alas my Lord, Your wisedome is consum'd in confidence: Do not go forth to day: Call it my feare, That keepes you in the house, and not your owne. Wee'l send Mark Antony to the Senate house, And he shall say, you are not well to day: Let me vpon my knee, preuaile in this

Caes Mark Antony shall say I am not well, And for thy humor, I will stay at home. Enter Decius.

Heere's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so

Deci. Caesar, all haile: Good morrow worthy Caesar, I come to fetch you to the Senate house

Caes And you are come in very happy time, To beare my greeting to the Senators, And tell them that I will not come to day: Cannot, is false: and that I dare not, falser: I will not come to day, tell them so Decius

Calp. Say he is sicke

Caes Shall Caesar send a Lye? Haue I in Conquest stretcht mine Arme so farre, To be afear'd to tell Gray-beards the truth: Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come

Deci. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laught at when I tell them so

Caes The cause is in my Will, I will not come, That is enough to satisfie the Senate. But for your priuate satisfaction, Because I loue you, I will let you know. Calphurnia heere my wife, stayes me at home: She dreampt to night, she saw my Statue, Which like a Fountaine, with an hundred spouts Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans Came smiling, & did bathe their hands in it: And these does she apply, for warnings and portents, And euils imminent; and on her knee Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to day

Deci. This Dreame is all amisse interpreted, It was a vision, faire and fortunate: Your Statue spouting blood in many pipes, In which so many smiling Romans bath'd, Signifies, that from you great Rome shall sucke Reuiuing blood, and that great men shall presse For Tinctures, Staines, Reliques, and Cognisance. This by Calphurnia's Dreame is signified

Caes And this way haue you well expounded it

Deci. I haue, when you haue heard what I can say: And know it now, the Senate haue concluded To giue this day, a Crowne to mighty Caesar. If you shall send them word you will not come, Their mindes may change. Besides, it were a mocke Apt to be render'd, for some one to say, Breake vp the Senate, till another time: When Caesars wife shall meete with better Dreames. If Caesar hide himselfe, shall they not whisper Loe Caesar is affraid? Pardon me Caesar, for my deere deere loue To your proceeding, bids me tell you this: And reason to my loue is liable

Caes How foolish do your fears seeme now Calphurnia? I am ashamed I did yeeld to them. Giue me my Robe, for I will go. Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius, Cynna, and Publius.

And looke where Publius is come to fetch me

Pub. Good morrow Caesar

Caes Welcome Publius. What Brutus, are you stirr'd so earely too? Good morrow Caska: Caius Ligarius, Caesar was ne're so much your enemy, As that same Ague which hath made you leane. What is't a Clocke? Bru. Caesar, 'tis strucken eight

Caes I thanke you for your paines and curtesie. Enter Antony.

See, Antony that Reuels long a-nights Is notwithstanding vp. Good morrow Antony

Ant. So to most Noble Caesar

Caes Bid them prepare within: I am too blame to be thus waited for. Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius, I haue an houres talke in store for you: Remember that you call on me to day: Be neere me, that I may remember you

Treb. Caesar I will: and so neere will I be, That your best Friends shall wish I had beene further

Caes Good Friends go in, and taste some wine with me. And we (like Friends) will straight way go together

Bru. That euery like is not the same, O Caesar, The heart of Brutus earnes to thinke vpon.

Exeunt.

Enter Artemidorus.

Caesar, beware of Brutus, take heede of Cassius; come not neere Caska, haue an eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, marke well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loues thee not: Thou hast wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one minde in all these men, and it is bent against Caesar: If thou beest not Immortall, looke about you: Security giues way to Conspiracie. The mighty Gods defend thee. Thy Louer, Artemidorus. Heere will I stand, till Caesar passe along, And as a Sutor will I giue him this: My heart laments, that Vertue cannot liue Out of the teeth of Emulation. If thou reade this, O Caesar, thou mayest liue; If not, the Fates with Traitors do contriue. Enter.

Enter Portia and Lucius.

Por. I prythee Boy, run to the Senate-house, Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone. Why doest thou stay? Luc. To know my errand Madam

Por. I would haue had thee there and heere agen Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there: O Constancie, be strong vpon my side, Set a huge Mountaine 'tweene my Heart and Tongue: I haue a mans minde, but a womans might: How hard it is for women to keepe counsell. Art thou heere yet? Luc. Madam, what should I do? Run to the Capitoll, and nothing else? And so returne to you, and nothing else? Por. Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well, For he went sickly forth: and take good note What Caesar doth, what Sutors presse to him. Hearke Boy, what noyse is that? Luc. I heare none Madam

Por. Prythee listen well: I heard a bussling Rumor like a Fray, And the winde brings it from the Capitoll

Luc. Sooth Madam, I heare nothing. Enter the Soothsayer.

Por. Come hither Fellow, which way hast thou bin? Sooth. At mine owne house, good Lady

Por. What is't a clocke? Sooth. About the ninth houre Lady

Por. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitoll? Sooth. Madam not yet, I go to take my stand, To see him passe on to the Capitoll

Por. Thou hast some suite to Caesar, hast thou not? Sooth. That I haue Lady, if it will please Caesar To be so good to Caesar, as to heare me: I shall beseech him to befriend himselfe

Por. Why know'st thou any harme's intended towards him? Sooth. None that I know will be, Much that I feare may chance: Good morrow to you: heere the street is narrow: The throng that followes Caesar at the heeles, Of Senators, of Praetors, common Sutors, Will crowd a feeble man (almost) to death: Ile get me to a place more voyd, and there Speake to great Caesar as he comes along.

Exit

Por. I must go in: Aye me! How weake a thing The heart of woman is? O Brutus, The Heauens speede thee in thine enterprize. Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a suite That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint: Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord, Say I am merry; Come to me againe, And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Flourish

Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cynna, Antony, Lepidus, Artimedorus, Publius, and the Soothsayer.

Caes The Ides of March are come

Sooth. I Caesar, but not gone

Art. Haile Caesar: Read this Scedule

Deci. Trebonius doth desire you to ore-read (At your best leysure) this his humble suite

Art. O Caesar, reade mine first: for mine's a suite That touches Caesar neerer. Read it great Caesar

Caes What touches vs our selfe, shall be last seru'd

Art. Delay not Caesar, read it instantly

Caes What, is the fellow mad? Pub. Sirra, giue place

Cassi. What, vrge you your Petitions in the street? Come to the Capitoll

Popil. I wish your enterprize to day may thriue

Cassi. What enterprize Popillius? Popil. Fare you well

Bru. What said Popillius Lena? Cassi. He wisht to day our enterprize might thriue: I feare our purpose is discouered

Bru. Looke how he makes to Caesar: marke him

Cassi. Caska be sodaine, for we feare preuention. Brutus what shall be done? If this be knowne, Cassius or Caesar neuer shall turne backe, For I will slay my selfe

Bru. Cassius be constant: Popillius Lena speakes not of our purposes, For looke he smiles, and Caesar doth not change

Cassi. Trebonius knowes his time: for look you Brutus He drawes Mark Antony out of the way

Deci. Where is Metellus Cimber, let him go, And presently preferre his suite to Caesar

Bru. He is addrest: presse neere, and second him

Cin. Caska, you are the first that reares your hand

Caes Are we all ready? What is now amisse, That Caesar and his Senate must redresse? Metel. Most high, most mighty, and most puisant Caesar Metellus Cymber throwes before thy Seate An humble heart

Caes I must preuent thee Cymber: These couchings, and these lowly courtesies Might fire the blood of ordinary men, And turne pre-Ordinance, and first Decree Into the lane of Children. Be not fond, To thinke that Caesar beares such Rebell blood That will be thaw'd from the true quality With that which melteth Fooles, I meane sweet words, Low-crooked-curtsies, and base Spaniell fawning: Thy Brother by decree is banished: If thou doest bend, and pray, and fawne for him, I spurne thee like a Curre out of my way: Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied

Metel. Is there no voyce more worthy then my owne, To sound more sweetly in great Caesars eare, For the repealing of my banish'd Brother? Bru. I kisse thy hand, but not in flattery Caesar: Desiring thee, that Publius Cymber may Haue an immediate freedome of repeale

Caes What Brutus? Cassi. Pardon Caesar: Caesar pardon: As lowe as to thy foote doth Cassius fall, To begge infranchisement for Publius Cymber

Caes I could be well mou'd, if I were as you, If I could pray to mooue, Prayers would mooue me: But I am constant as the Northerne Starre, Of whose true fixt, and resting quality, There is no fellow in the Firmament. The Skies are painted with vnnumbred sparkes, They are all Fire, and euery one doth shine: But, there's but one in all doth hold his place. So, in the World; 'Tis furnish'd well with Men, And Men are Flesh and Blood, and apprehensiue; Yet in the number, I do know but One That vnassayleable holds on his Ranke, Vnshak'd of Motion: and that I am he, Let me a little shew it, euen in this: That I was constant Cymber should be banish'd, And constant do remaine to keepe him so

Cinna. O Caesar

Caes Hence: Wilt thou lift vp Olympus? Decius. Great Caesar

Caes Doth not Brutus bootlesse kneele? Cask. Speake hands for me.

They stab Caesar.

Caes Et Tu Brute? - Then fall Caesar.

Dyes

Cin. Liberty, Freedome; Tyranny is dead, Run hence, proclaime, cry it about the Streets

Cassi. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out Liberty, Freedome, and Enfranchisement

Bru. People and Senators, be not affrighted: Fly not, stand still: Ambitions debt is paid

Cask. Go to the Pulpit Brutus

Dec. And Cassius too

Bru. Where's Publius? Cin. Heere, quite confounded with this mutiny

Met. Stand fast together, least some Friend of Caesars Should chance- Bru. Talke not of standing. Publius good cheere, There is no harme intended to your person, Nor to no Roman else: so tell them Publius

Cassi. And leaue vs Publius, least that the people Rushing on vs, should do your Age some mischiefe

Bru. Do so, and let no man abide this deede, But we the Doers. Enter Trebonius

Cassi. Where is Antony? Treb. Fled to his House amaz'd: Men, Wiues, and Children, stare, cry out, and run, As it were Doomesday

Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall dye we know, 'tis but the time And drawing dayes out, that men stand vpon

Cask. Why he that cuts off twenty yeares of life, Cuts off so many yeares of fearing death

Bru. Grant that, and then is Death a Benefit: So are we Caesars Friends, that haue abridg'd His time of fearing death. Stoope Romans, stoope, And let vs bathe our hands in Caesars blood Vp to the Elbowes, and besmeare our Swords: Then walke we forth, euen to the Market place, And wauing our red Weapons o're our heads, Let's all cry Peace, Freedome, and Liberty

Cassi. Stoop then, and wash. How many Ages hence Shall this our lofty Scene be acted ouer, In State vnborne, and Accents yet vnknowne? Bru. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, That now on Pompeyes Basis lye along, No worthier then the dust? Cassi. So oft as that shall be, So often shall the knot of vs be call'd, The Men that gaue their Country liberty

Dec. What, shall we forth? Cassi. I, euery man away. Brutus shall leade, and we will grace his heeles With the most boldest, and best hearts of Rome. Enter a Seruant.

Bru. Soft, who comes heere? A friend of Antonies

Ser. Thus Brutus did my Master bid me kneele; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall downe, And being prostrate, thus he bad me say: Brutus is Noble, Wise, Valiant, and Honest; Caesar was Mighty, Bold, Royall, and Louing: Say, I loue Brutus, and I honour him; Say, I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him, and lou'd him. If Brutus will vouchsafe, that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolu'd How Caesar hath deseru'd to lye in death, Mark Antony, shall not loue Caesar dead So well as Brutus liuing; but will follow The Fortunes and Affayres of Noble Brutus, Thorough the hazards of this vntrod State, With all true Faith. So sayes my Master Antony

Bru. Thy Master is a Wise and Valiant Romane, I neuer thought him worse: Tell him, so please him come vnto this place He shall be satisfied: and by my Honor Depart vntouch'd

Ser. Ile fetch him presently.

Exit Seruant.

Bru. I know that we shall haue him well to Friend

Cassi. I wish we may: But yet haue I a minde That feares him much: and my misgiuing still Falles shrewdly to the purpose. Enter Antony.

Bru. But heere comes Antony: Welcome Mark Antony

Ant. O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lye so lowe? Are all thy Conquests, Glories, Triumphes, Spoiles, Shrunke to this little Measure? Fare thee well. I know not Gentlemen what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is ranke: If I my selfe, there is no houre so fit As Caesars deaths houre; nor no Instrument Of halfe that worth, as those your Swords; made rich With the most Noble blood of all this World. I do beseech yee, if you beare me hard, Now, whil'st your purpled hands do reeke and smoake, Fulfill your pleasure. Liue a thousand yeeres, I shall not finde my selfe so apt to dye. No place will please me so, no meane of death, As heere by Caesar, and by you cut off, The Choice and Master Spirits of this Age

Bru. O Antony! Begge not your death of vs: Though now we must appeare bloody and cruell, As by our hands, and this our present Acte You see we do: Yet see you but our hands, And this, the bleeding businesse they haue done: Our hearts you see not, they are pittifull: And pitty to the generall wrong of Rome, As fire driues out fire, so pitty, pitty Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, To you, our Swords haue leaden points Marke Antony: Our Armes in strength of malice, and our Hearts Of Brothers temper, do receiue you in, With all kinde loue, good thoughts, and reuerence

Cassi. Your voyce shall be as strong as any mans, In the disposing of new Dignities

Bru. Onely be patient, till we haue appeas'd The Multitude, beside themselues with feare, And then, we will deliuer you the cause, Why I, that did loue Caesar when I strooke him, Haue thus proceeded

Ant. I doubt not of your Wisedome: Let each man render me his bloody hand. First Marcus Brutus will I shake with you; Next Caius Cassius do I take your hand; Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus; Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, yours; Though last, not least in loue, yours good Trebonius. Gentlemen all: Alas, what shall I say, My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad wayes you must conceit me, Either a Coward, or a Flatterer. That I did loue thee Caesar, O 'tis true: If then thy Spirit looke vpon vs now, Shall it not greeue thee deerer then thy death, To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes? Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse, Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they streame forth thy blood, It would become me better, then to close In tearmes of Friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me Iulius, heere was't thou bay'd braue Hart, Heere did'st thou fall, and heere thy Hunters stand Sign'd in thy Spoyle, and Crimson'd in thy Lethee. O World! thou wast the Forrest to this Hart, And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee. How like a Deere, stroken by many Princes, Dost thou heere lye? Cassi. Mark Antony

Ant. Pardon me Caius Cassius: The Enemies of Caesar, shall say this: Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modestie

Cassi. I blame you not for praising Caesar so. But what compact meane you to haue with vs? Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends, Or shall we on, and not depend on you? Ant. Therefore I tooke your hands, but was indeed Sway'd from the point, by looking downe on Caesar. Friends am I with you all, and loue you all, Vpon this hope, that you shall giue me Reasons, Why, and wherein, Caesar was dangerous

Bru. Or else were this a sauage Spectacle: Our Reasons are so full of good regard, That were you Antony, the Sonne of Caesar, You should be satisfied

Ant. That's all I seeke, And am moreouer sutor, that I may Produce his body to the Market-place, And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend, Speake in the Order of his Funerall

Bru. You shall Marke Antony

Cassi. Brutus, a word with you: You know not what you do; Do not consent That Antony speake in his Funerall: Know you how much the people may be mou'd By that which he will vtter

Bru. By your pardon: I will my selfe into the Pulpit first, And shew the reason of our Caesars death. What Antony shall speake, I will protest He speakes by leaue, and by permission: And that we are contented Caesar shall Haue all true Rites, and lawfull Ceremonies, It shall aduantage more, then do vs wrong

Cassi. I know not what may fall, I like it not

Bru. Mark Antony, heere take you Caesars body: You shall not in your Funerall speech blame vs, But speake all good you can deuise of Caesar, And say you doo't by our permission: Else shall you not haue any hand at all About his Funerall. And you shall speake In the same Pulpit whereto I am going, After my speech is ended

Ant. Be it so: I do desire no more

Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow vs.

Exeunt.

Manet Antony.

O pardon me, thou bleeding peece of Earth: That I am meeke and gentle with these Butchers. Thou art the Ruines of the Noblest man That euer liued in the Tide of Times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly Blood. Ouer thy wounds, now do I Prophesie, (Which like dumbe mouthes do ope their Ruby lips, To begge the voyce and vtterance of my Tongue) A Curse shall light vpon the limbes of men; Domesticke Fury, and fierce Ciuill strife, Shall cumber all the parts of Italy: Blood and destruction shall be so in vse, And dreadfull Obiects so familiar, That Mothers shall but smile, when they behold Their Infants quartered with the hands of Warre: All pitty choak'd with custome of fell deeds, And Caesars Spirit ranging for Reuenge, With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell, Shall in these Confines, with a Monarkes voyce, Cry hauocke, and let slip the Dogges of Warre, That this foule deede, shall smell aboue the earth With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall. Enter Octauio's Seruant.

You serue Octauius Caesar, do you not? Ser. I do Marke Antony

Ant. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome

Ser. He did receiue his Letters, and is comming, And bid me say to you by word of mouth- O Caesar! Ant. Thy heart is bigge: get thee a-part and weepe: Passion I see is catching from mine eyes, Seeing those Beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy Master comming? Ser. He lies to night within seuen Leagues of Rome

Ant. Post backe with speede, And tell him what hath chanc'd: Heere is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Octauius yet, Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay a-while, Thou shalt not backe, till I haue borne this course Into the Market place: There shall I try In my Oration, how the People take The cruell issue of these bloody men, According to the which, thou shalt discourse To yong Octauius, of the state of things. Lend me your hand.

Exeunt.

Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Cassius, with the Plebeians.

Ple. We will be satisfied: let vs be satisfied

Bru. Then follow me, and giue me Audience friends. Cassius go you into the other streete, And part the Numbers: Those that will heare me speake, let 'em stay heere; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him, And publike Reasons shall be rendred Of Caesars death

1.Ple. I will heare Brutus speake

2. I will heare Cassius, and compare their Reasons, When seuerally we heare them rendred

3. The Noble Brutus is ascended: Silence

Bru. Be patient till the last. Romans, Countrey-men, and Louers, heare mee for my cause, and be silent, that you may heare. Beleeue me for mine Honor, and haue respect to mine Honor, that you may beleeue. Censure me in your Wisedom, and awake your Senses, that you may the better Iudge. If there bee any in this Assembly, any deere Friend of Caesars, to him I say, that Brutus loue to Caesar, was no lesse then his. If then, that Friend demand, why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: Not that I lou'd Caesar lesse, but that I lou'd Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were liuing, and dye all Slaues; then that Caesar were dead, to liue all Free-men? As Caesar lou'd mee, I weepe for him; as he was Fortunate, I reioyce at it; as he was Valiant, I honour him: But, as he was Ambitious, I slew him. There is Teares, for his Loue: Ioy, for his Fortune: Honor, for his Valour: and Death, for his Ambition. Who is heere so base, that would be a Bondman? If any, speak, for him haue I offended. Who is heere so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him haue I offended. Who is heere so vile, that will not loue his Countrey? If any, speake, for him haue I offended. I pause for a Reply

All. None Brutus, none

Brutus. Then none haue I offended. I haue done no more to Caesar, then you shall do to Brutus. The Question of his death, is inroll'd in the Capitoll: his Glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc'd, for which he suffered death. Enter Mark Antony, with Caesars body.

Heere comes his Body, mourn'd by Marke Antony, who though he had no hand in his death, shall receiue the benefit of his dying, a place in the Co[m]monwealth, as which of you shall not. With this I depart, that as I slewe my best Louer for the good of Rome, I haue the same Dagger for my selfe, when it shall please my Country to need my death

All. Liue Brutus, liue, liue

1. Bring him with Triumph home vnto his house

2. Giue him a Statue with his Ancestors

3. Let him be Caesar

4. Caesars better parts, Shall be Crown'd in Brutus

1. Wee'l bring him to his House, With Showts and Clamors

Bru. My Country-men

2. Peace, silence, Brutus speakes

1. Peace ho

Bru. Good Countrymen, let me depart alone, And (for my sake) stay heere with Antony: Do grace to Caesars Corpes, and grace his Speech Tending to Caesars Glories, which Marke Antony (By our permission) is allow'd to make. I do intreat you, not a man depart, Saue I alone, till Antony haue spoke.

Exit

1 Stay ho, and let vs heare Mark Antony

3 Let him go vp into the publike Chaire, Wee'l heare him: Noble Antony go vp

Ant. For Brutus sake, I am beholding to you

4 What does he say of Brutus? 3 He sayes, for Brutus sake He findes himselfe beholding to vs all

4 'Twere best he speake no harme of Brutus heere? 1 This Caesar was a Tyrant

3 Nay that's certaine: We are blest that Rome is rid of him

2 Peace, let vs heare what Antony can say

Ant. You gentle Romans

All. Peace hoe, let vs heare him

An. Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears: I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him: The euill that men do, liues after them, The good is oft enterred with their bones, So let it be with Caesar. The Noble Brutus, Hath told you Caesar was Ambitious: If it were so, it was a greeuous Fault, And greeuously hath Caesar answer'd it. Heere, vnder leaue of Brutus, and the rest (For Brutus is an Honourable man, So are they all; all Honourable men) Come I to speake in Caesars Funerall. He was my Friend, faithfull, and iust to me; But Brutus sayes, he was Ambitious, And Brutus is an Honourable man. He hath brought many Captiues home to Rome, Whose Ransomes, did the generall Coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seeme Ambitious? When that the poore haue cry'de, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuffe, Yet Brutus sayes, he was Ambitious: And Brutus is an Honourable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercall, I thrice presented him a Kingly Crowne, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this Ambition? Yet Brutus sayes, he was Ambitious: And sure he is an Honourable man. I speake not to disprooue what Brutus spoke, But heere I am, to speake what I do know; You all did loue him once, not without cause, What cause with-holds you then, to mourne for him? O Iudgement! thou are fled to brutish Beasts, And Men haue lost their Reason. Beare with me, My heart is in the Coffin there with Caesar, And I must pawse, till it come backe to me

1 Me thinkes there is much reason in his sayings

2 If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar ha's had great wrong

3 Ha's hee Masters? I feare there will a worse come in his place

4. Mark'd ye his words? he would not take y Crown, Therefore 'tis certaine, he was not Ambitious

1. If it be found so, some will deere abide it

2. Poore soule, his eyes are red as fire with weeping

3. There's not a Nobler man in Rome then Antony

4. Now marke him, he begins againe to speake

Ant. But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Haue stood against the World: Now lies he there, And none so poore to do him reuerence. O Maisters! If I were dispos'd to stirre Your hearts and mindes to Mutiny and Rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong: Who (you all know) are Honourable men. I will not do them wrong: I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong my selfe and you, Then I will wrong such Honourable men. But heere's a Parchment, with the Seale of Caesar, I found it in his Closset, 'tis his Will: Let but the Commons heare this Testament: (Which pardon me) I do not meane to reade, And they would go and kisse dead Caesars wounds, And dip their Napkins in his Sacred Blood; Yea, begge a haire of him for Memory, And dying, mention it within their Willes, Bequeathing it as a rich Legacie Vnto their issue

4 Wee'l heare the Will, reade it Marke Antony

All. The Will, the Will; we will heare Caesars Will

Ant. Haue patience gentle Friends, I must not read it. It is not meete you know how Caesar lou'd you: You are not Wood, you are not Stones, but men: And being men, hearing the Will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad: 'Tis good you know not that you are his Heires, For if you should, O what would come of it? 4 Read the Will, wee'l heare it Antony: You shall reade vs the Will, Caesars Will

Ant. Will you be Patient? Will you stay a-while? I haue o're-shot my selfe to tell you of it, I feare I wrong the Honourable men, Whose Daggers haue stabb'd Caesar: I do feare it

4 They were Traitors: Honourable men? All. The Will, the Testament

2 They were Villaines, Murderers: the Will, read the Will

Ant. You will compell me then to read the Will: Then make a Ring about the Corpes of Caesar, And let me shew you him that made the Will: Shall I descend? And will you giue me leaue? All. Come downe

2 Descend

3 You shall haue leaue

4 A Ring, stand round

1 Stand from the Hearse, stand from the Body

2 Roome for Antony, most Noble Antony

Ant. Nay presse not so vpon me, stand farre off

All. Stand backe: roome, beare backe

Ant. If you haue teares, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this Mantle, I remember The first time euer Caesar put it on, 'Twas on a Summers Euening in his Tent, That day he ouercame the Neruij. Looke, in this place ran Cassius Dagger through: See what a rent the enuious Caska made: Through this, the wel-beloued Brutus stabb'd, And as he pluck'd his cursed Steele away: Marke how the blood of Caesar followed it, As rushing out of doores, to be resolu'd If Brutus so vnkindely knock'd, or no: For Brutus, as you know, was Caesars Angel. Iudge, O you Gods, how deerely Caesar lou'd him: This was the most vnkindest cut of all. For when the Noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong then Traitors armes, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his Mighty heart, And in his Mantle, muffling vp his face, Euen at the Base of Pompeyes Statue (Which all the while ran blood) great Caesar fell. O what a fall was there, my Countrymen? Then I, and you, and all of vs fell downe, Whil'st bloody Treason flourish'd ouer vs. O now you weepe, and I perceiue you feele The dint of pitty: These are gracious droppes. Kinde Soules, what weepe you, when you but behold Our Caesars Vesture wounded? Looke you heere, Heere is Himselfe, marr'd as you see with Traitors

1. O pitteous spectacle! 2. O Noble Caesar! 3. O wofull day! 4. O Traitors, Villaines! 1. O most bloody sight! 2. We will be reueng'd: Reuenge About, seeke, burne, fire, kill, slay, Let not a Traitor liue

Ant. Stay Country-men

1. Peace there, heare the Noble Antony

2. Wee'l heare him, wee'l follow him, wee'l dy with him

Ant. Good Friends, sweet Friends, let me not stirre you vp To such a sodaine Flood of Mutiny: They that haue done this Deede, are honourable. What priuate greefes they haue, alas I know not, That made them do it: They are Wise, and Honourable, And will no doubt with Reasons answer you. I come not (Friends) to steale away your hearts, I am no Orator, as Brutus is: But (as you know me all) a plaine blunt man That loue my Friend, and that they know full well, That gaue me publike leaue to speake of him: For I haue neyther writ nor words, nor worth, Action, nor Vtterance, nor the power of Speech, To stirre mens Blood. I onely speake right on: I tell you that, which you your selues do know, Shew you sweet Caesars wounds, poor poor dum mouths And bid them speake for me: But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle vp your Spirits, and put a Tongue In euery Wound of Caesar, that should moue The stones of Rome, to rise and Mutiny

All. Wee'l Mutiny

1 Wee'l burne the house of Brutus

3 Away then, come, seeke the Conspirators

Ant. Yet heare me Countrymen, yet heare me speake All. Peace hoe, heare Antony, most Noble Antony

Ant. Why Friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deseru'd your loues? Alas you know not, I must tell you then: You haue forgot the Will I told you of

All. Most true, the Will, let's stay and heare the Wil

Ant. Heere is the Will, and vnder Caesars Seale: To euery Roman Citizen he giues, To euery seuerall man, seuenty fiue Drachmaes

2 Ple. Most Noble Caesar, wee'l reuenge his death

3 Ple. O Royall Caesar

Ant. Heare me with patience

All. Peace hoe Ant. Moreouer, he hath left you all his Walkes, His priuate Arbors, and new-planted Orchards, On this side Tyber, he hath left them you, And to your heyres for euer: common pleasures To walke abroad, and recreate your selues. Heere was a Caesar: when comes such another? 1.Ple. Neuer, neuer: come, away, away: Wee'l burne his body in the holy place, And with the Brands fire the Traitors houses. Take vp the body

2.Ple. Go fetch fire

3.Ple. Plucke downe Benches

4.Ple. Plucke downe Formes, Windowes, any thing.

Exit Plebeians.

Ant. Now let it worke: Mischeefe thou art a-foot, Take thou what course thou wilt. How now Fellow? Enter Seruant.

Ser. Sir, Octauius is already come to Rome

Ant. Where is hee? Ser. He and Lepidus are at Caesars house

Ant. And thither will I straight, to visit him: He comes vpon a wish. Fortune is merry, And in this mood will giue vs any thing

Ser. I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius Are rid like Madmen through the Gates of Rome

Ant. Belike they had some notice of the people How I had moued them. Bring me to Octauius.

Exeunt.

Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians.

Cinna. I dreamt to night, that I did feast with Caesar, And things vnluckily charge my Fantasie: I haue no will to wander foorth of doores, Yet something leads me foorth

1. What is your name? 2. Whether are you going? 3. Where do you dwell? 4. Are you a married man, or a Batchellor? 2. Answer euery man directly

1. I, and breefely

4. I, and wisely

3. I, and truly, you were best

Cin. What is my name? Whether am I going? Where do I dwell? Am I a married man, or a Batchellour? Then to answer euery man, directly and breefely, wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a Batchellor

2 That's as much as to say, they are fooles that marrie: you'l beare me a bang for that I feare: proceede directly

Cinna. Directly I am going to Caesars Funerall

1. As a Friend, or an Enemy? Cinna. As a friend

2. That matter is answered directly

4. For your dwelling: breefely

Cinna. Breefely, I dwell by the Capitoll

3. Your name sir, truly

Cinna. Truly, my name is Cinna

1. Teare him to peeces, hee's a Conspirator

Cinna. I am Cinna the Poet, I am Cinna the Poet

4. Teare him for his bad verses, teare him for his bad Verses

Cin. I am not Cinna the Conspirator

4. It is no matter, his name's Cinna, plucke but his name out of his heart, and turne him going

3. Teare him, tear him; Come Brands hoe, Firebrands: to Brutus, to Cassius, burne all. Some to Decius House, and some to Caska's; some to Ligarius: Away, go.

Exeunt. all the Plebeians.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Antony, Octauius, and Lepidus.

Ant. These many then shall die, their names are prickt Octa. Your Brother too must dye: consent you Lepidus? Lep. I do consent

Octa. Pricke him downe Antony

Lep. Vpon condition Publius shall not liue, Who is your Sisters sonne, Marke Antony

Ant. He shall not liue; looke, with a spot I dam him. But Lepidus, go you to Caesars house: Fetch the Will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in Legacies

Lep. What? shall I finde you heere? Octa. Or heere, or at the Capitoll.

Exit Lepidus

Ant. This is a slight vnmeritable man, Meet to be sent on Errands: is it fit The three-fold World diuided, he should stand One of the three to share it? Octa. So you thought him, And tooke his voyce who should be prickt to dye In our blacke Sentence and Proscription

Ant. Octauius, I haue seene more dayes then you, And though we lay these Honours on this man, To ease our selues of diuers sland'rous loads, He shall but beare them, as the Asse beares Gold, To groane and swet vnder the Businesse, Either led or driuen, as we point the way: And hauing brought our Treasure, where we will, Then take we downe his Load, and turne him off (Like to the empty Asse) to shake his eares, And graze in Commons

Octa. You may do your will: But hee's a tried, and valiant Souldier

Ant. So is my Horse Octauius, and for that I do appoint him store of Prouender. It is a Creature that I teach to fight, To winde, to stop, to run directly on: His corporall Motion, gouern'd by my Spirit, And in some taste, is Lepidus but so: He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth: A barren spirited Fellow; one that feeds On Obiects, Arts, and Imitations. Which out of vse, and stal'de by other men Begin his fashion. Do not talke of him, But as a property: and now Octauius, Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius Are leuying Powers; We must straight make head: Therefore let our Alliance be combin'd, Our best Friends made, our meanes stretcht, And let vs presently go sit in Councell, How couert matters may be best disclos'd, And open Perils surest answered

Octa. Let vs do so: for we are at the stake, And bayed about with many Enemies, And some that smile haue in their hearts I feare Millions of Mischeefes.

Exeunt.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucillius, and the Army. Titinius and Pindarus meete them.

Bru. Stand ho

Lucil. Giue the word ho, and Stand

Bru. What now Lucillius, is Cassius neere? Lucil. He is at hand, and Pindarus is come To do you salutation from his Master

Bru. He greets me well. Your Master Pindarus In his owne change, or by ill Officers, Hath giuen me some worthy cause to wish Things done, vndone: But if he be at hand I shall be satisfied

Pin. I do not doubt But that my Noble Master will appeare Such as he is, full of regard, and Honour

Bru. He is not doubted. A word Lucillius How he receiu'd you: let me be resolu'd

Lucil. With courtesie, and with respect enough, But not with such familiar instances, Nor with such free and friendly Conference As he hath vs'd of old

Bru. Thou hast describ'd A hot Friend, cooling: Euer note Lucillius, When Loue begins to sicken and decay It vseth an enforced Ceremony. There are no trickes, in plaine and simple Faith: But hollow men, like Horses hot at hand, Make gallant shew, and promise of their Mettle:

Low March within.

But when they should endure the bloody Spurre, They fall their Crests, and like deceitfull Iades Sinke in the Triall. Comes his Army on? Lucil. They meane this night in Sardis to be quarter'd: The greater part, the Horse in generall Are come with Cassius. Enter Cassius and his Powers.

Bru. Hearke, he is arriu'd: March gently on to meete him

Cassi. Stand ho

Bru. Stand ho, speake the word along. Stand. Stand. Stand

Cassi. Most Noble Brother, you haue done me wrong

Bru. Iudge me you Gods; wrong I mine Enemies? And if not so, how should I wrong a Brother

Cassi. Brutus, this sober forme of yours, hides wrongs, And when you do them- Brut. Cassius, be content, Speake your greefes softly, I do know you well. Before the eyes of both our Armies heere (Which should perceiue nothing but Loue from vs) Let vs not wrangle. Bid them moue away: Then in my Tent Cassius enlarge your Greefes, And I will giue you Audience

Cassi. Pindarus, Bid our Commanders leade their Charges off A little from this ground

Bru. Lucillius, do you the like, and let no man Come to our Tent, till we haue done our Conference. Let Lucius and Titinius guard our doore.

Exeunt.

Manet Brutus and Cassius.

Cassi. That you haue wrong'd me, doth appear in this: You haue condemn'd, and noted Lucius Pella For taking Bribes heere of the Sardians; Wherein my Letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the man was slighted off

Bru. You wrong'd your selfe to write in such a case

Cassi. In such a time as this, it is not meet That euery nice offence should beare his Comment

Bru. Let me tell you Cassius, you your selfe Are much condemn'd to haue an itching Palme, To sell, and Mart your Offices for Gold To Vndeseruers

Cassi. I, an itching Palme? You know that you are Brutus that speakes this, Or by the Gods, this speech were else your last

Bru. The name of Cassius Honors this corruption, And Chasticement doth therefore hide his head

Cassi. Chasticement? Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March reme[m]ber: Did not great Iulius bleede for Iustice sake? What Villaine touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for Iustice? What? Shall one of Vs, That strucke the Formost man of all this World, But for supporting Robbers: shall we now, Contaminate our fingers, with base Bribes? And sell the mighty space of our large Honors For so much trash, as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a Dogge, and bay the Moone, Then such a Roman

Cassi. Brutus, baite not me, Ile not indure it: you forget your selfe To hedge me in. I am a Souldier, I, Older in practice, Abler then your selfe To make Conditions

Bru. Go too: you are not Cassius

Cassi. I am

Bru. I say, you are not

Cassi. Vrge me no more, I shall forget my selfe: Haue minde vpon your health: Tempt me no farther

Bru. Away slight man

Cassi. Is't possible? Bru. Heare me, for I will speake. Must I giue way, and roome to your rash Choller? Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares? Cassi. O ye Gods, ye Gods, Must I endure all this? Bru. All this? I more: Fret till your proud hart break. Go shew your Slaues how Chollericke you are, And make your Bondmen tremble. Must I bouge? Must I obserue you? Must I stand and crouch Vnder your Testie Humour? By the Gods, You shall digest the Venom of your Spleene Though it do Split you. For, from this day forth, Ile vse you for my Mirth, yea for my Laughter When you are Waspish

Cassi. Is it come to this? Bru. You say, you are a better Souldier: Let it appeare so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine owne part, I shall be glad to learne of Noble men

Cass. You wrong me euery way: You wrong me Brutus: I saide, an Elder Souldier, not a Better. Did I say Better? Bru. If you did, I care not

Cass. When Caesar liu'd, he durst not thus haue mou'd me

Brut. Peace, peace, you durst not so haue tempted him

Cassi. I durst not

Bru. No

Cassi. What? durst not tempt him? Bru. For your life you durst not

Cassi. Do not presume too much vpon my Loue, I may do that I shall be sorry for

Bru. You haue done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror Cassius in your threats: For I am Arm'd so strong in Honesty, That they passe by me, as the idle winde, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certaine summes of Gold, which you deny'd me, For I can raise no money by vile meanes: By Heauen, I had rather Coine my Heart, And drop my blood for Drachmaes, then to wring From the hard hands of Peazants, their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for Gold to pay my Legions, Which you deny'd me: was that done like Cassius? Should I haue answer'd Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus growes so Couetous, To locke such Rascall Counters from his Friends, Be ready Gods with all your Thunder-bolts, Dash him to peeces

Cassi. I deny'd you not

Bru. You did

Cassi. I did not. He was but a Foole That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riu'd my hart: A Friend should beare his Friends infirmities; But Brutus makes mine greater then they are

Bru. I do not, till you practice them on me

Cassi. You loue me not

Bru. I do not like your faults

Cassi. A friendly eye could neuer see such faults

Bru. A Flatterers would not, though they do appeare As huge as high Olympus

Cassi. Come Antony, and yong Octauius come, Reuenge your selues alone on Cassius, For Cassius is a-weary of the World: Hated by one he loues, brau'd by his Brother, Check'd like a bondman, all his faults obseru'd, Set in a Note-booke, learn'd, and con'd by roate To cast into my Teeth. O I could weepe My Spirit from mine eyes. There is my Dagger, And heere my naked Breast: Within, a Heart Deerer then Pluto's Mine, Richer then Gold: If that thou bee'st a Roman, take it foorth. I that deny'd thee Gold, will giue my Heart: Strike as thou did'st at Caesar: For I know, When thou did'st hate him worst, y loued'st him better Then euer thou loued'st Cassius

Bru. Sheath your Dagger: Be angry when you will, it shall haue scope: Do what you will, Dishonor, shall be Humour. O Cassius, you are yoaked with a Lambe That carries Anger, as the Flint beares fire, Who much inforced, shewes a hastie Sparke, And straite is cold agen

Cassi. Hath Cassius liu'd To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus, When greefe and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him? Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill temper'd too

Cassi. Do you confesse so much? Giue me your hand

Bru. And my heart too

Cassi. O Brutus! Bru. What's the matter? Cassi. Haue not you loue enough to beare with me, When that rash humour which my Mother gaue me Makes me forgetfull

Bru. Yes Cassius, and from henceforth When you are ouer-earnest with your Brutus, Hee'l thinke your Mother chides, and leaue you so. Enter a Poet.

Poet. Let me go in to see the Generals, There is some grudge betweene 'em, 'tis not meete They be alone

Lucil. You shall not come to them

Poet. Nothing but death shall stay me

Cas. How now? What's the matter? Poet. For shame you Generals; what do you meane? Loue, and be Friends, as two such men should bee, For I haue seene more yeeres I'me sure then yee

Cas. Ha, ha, how vildely doth this Cynicke rime? Bru. Get you hence sirra: Sawcy Fellow, hence

Cas. Beare with him Brutus, 'tis his fashion

Brut. Ile know his humor, when he knowes his time: What should the Warres do with these Iigging Fooles? Companion, hence

Cas. Away, away be gone.

Exit Poet

Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders Prepare to lodge their Companies to night

Cas. And come your selues, & bring Messala with you Immediately to vs

Bru. Lucius, a bowle of Wine

Cas. I did not thinke you could haue bin so angry

Bru. O Cassius, I am sicke of many greefes

Cas. Of your Philosophy you make no vse, If you giue place to accidentall euils

Bru. No man beares sorrow better. Portia is dead

Cas. Ha? Portia? Bru. She is dead

Cas. How scap'd I killing, when I crost you so? O insupportable, and touching losse! Vpon what sicknesse? Bru. Impatient of my absence, And greefe, that yong Octauius with Mark Antony Haue made themselues so strong: For with her death That tydings came. With this she fell distract, And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd fire

Cas. And dy'd so? Bru. Euen so

Cas. O ye immortall Gods! Enter Boy with Wine, and Tapers.

Bru. Speak no more of her: Giue me a bowl of wine, In this I bury all vnkindnesse Cassius.

Drinkes

Cas. My heart is thirsty for that Noble pledge. Fill Lucius, till the Wine ore-swell the Cup: I cannot drinke too much of Brutus loue. Enter Titinius and Messala.

Brutus. Come in Titinius: Welcome good Messala: Now sit we close about this Taper heere, And call in question our necessities

Cass. Portia, art thou gone? Bru. No more I pray you. Messala, I haue heere receiued Letters, That yong Octauius, and Marke Antony Come downe vpon vs with a mighty power, Bending their Expedition toward Philippi

Mess. My selfe haue Letters of the selfe-same Tenure

Bru. With what Addition

Mess. That by proscription, and billes of Outlarie, Octauius, Antony, and Lepidus, Haue put to death, an hundred Senators

Bru. Therein our Letters do not well agree: Mine speake of seuenty Senators, that dy'de By their proscriptions, Cicero being one

Cassi. Cicero one? Messa. Cicero is dead, and by that order of proscription Had you your Letters from your wife, my Lord? Bru. No Messala

Messa. Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her? Bru. Nothing Messala

Messa. That me thinkes is strange

Bru. Why aske you? Heare you ought of her, in yours? Messa. No my Lord

Bru. Now as you are a Roman tell me true

Messa. Then like a Roman, beare the truth I tell, For certaine she is dead, and by strange manner

Bru. Why farewell Portia: We must die Messala: With meditating that she must dye once, I haue the patience to endure it now

Messa. Euen so great men, great losses shold indure

Cassi. I haue as much of this in Art as you, But yet my Nature could not beare it so

Bru. Well, to our worke aliue. What do you thinke Of marching to Philippi presently

Cassi. I do not thinke it good

Bru. Your reason? Cassi. This it is: 'Tis better that the Enemie seeke vs, So shall he waste his meanes, weary his Souldiers, Doing himselfe offence, whil'st we lying still, Are full of rest, defence, and nimblenesse

Bru. Good reasons must of force giue place to better: The people 'twixt Philippi, and this ground Do stand but in a forc'd affection: For they haue grug'd vs Contribution. The Enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number vp, Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd: From which aduantage shall we cut him off. If at Philippi we do face him there, These people at our backe

Cassi. Heare me good Brother

Bru. Vnder your pardon. You must note beside, That we haue tride the vtmost of our Friends: Our Legions are brim full, our cause is ripe, The Enemy encreaseth euery day, We at the height, are readie to decline. There is a Tide in the affayres of men, Which taken at the Flood, leades on to Fortune: Omitted, all the voyage of their life, Is bound in Shallowes, and in Miseries. On such a full Sea are we now a-float, And we must take the current when it serues, Or loose our Ventures

Cassi. Then with your will go on: wee'l along Our selues, and meet them at Philippi

Bru. The deepe of night is crept vpon our talke, And Nature must obey Necessitie, Which we will niggard with a little rest: There is no more to say

Cassi. No more, good night, Early to morrow will we rise, and hence. Enter Lucius.

Bru. Lucius my Gowne: farewell good Messala, Good night Titinius: Noble, Noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose

Cassi. O my deere Brother: This was an ill beginning of the night: Neuer come such diuision 'tweene our soules: Let it not Brutus. Enter Lucius with the Gowne.

Bru. Euery thing is well

Cassi. Good night my Lord

Bru. Good night good Brother

Tit. Messa. Good night Lord Brutus

Bru. Farwell euery one.

Exeunt.

Giue me the Gowne. Where is thy Instrument? Luc. Heere in the Tent

Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily? Poore knaue I blame thee not, thou art ore-watch'd. Call Claudio, and some other of my men, Ile haue them sleepe on Cushions in my Tent

Luc. Varrus, and Claudio. Enter Varrus and Claudio.

Var. Cals my Lord? Bru. I pray you sirs, lye in my Tent and sleepe, It may be I shall raise you by and by On businesse to my Brother Cassius

Var. So please you, we will stand, And watch your pleasure

Bru. I will it not haue it so: Lye downe good sirs, It may be I shall otherwise bethinke me. Looke Lucius, heere's the booke I sought for so: I put it in the pocket of my Gowne

Luc. I was sure your Lordship did not giue it me

Bru. Beare with me good Boy, I am much forgetfull. Canst thou hold vp thy heauie eyes a-while, And touch thy Instrument a straine or two

Luc. I my Lord, an't please you

Bru. It does my Boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing

Luc. It is my duty Sir

Brut. I should not vrge thy duty past thy might, I know yong bloods looke for a time of rest

Luc. I haue slept my Lord already

Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleepe againe: I will not hold thee long. If I do liue, I will be good to thee.

Musicke, and a Song.

This is a sleepy Tune: O Murd'rous slumber! Layest thou thy Leaden Mace vpon my Boy, That playes thee Musicke? Gentle knaue good night: I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee: If thou do'st nod, thou break'st thy Instrument, Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night. Let me see, let me see; is not the Leafe turn'd downe Where I left reading? Heere it is I thinke. Enter the Ghost of Caesar.

How ill this Taper burnes. Ha! Who comes heere? I thinke it is the weakenesse of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous Apparition. It comes vpon me: Art thou any thing? Art thou some God, some Angell, or some Diuell, That mak'st my blood cold, and my haire to stare? Speake to me, what thou art

Ghost. Thy euill Spirit Brutus? Bru. Why com'st thou? Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi

Brut. Well: then I shall see thee againe? Ghost. I, at Philippi

Brut. Why I will see thee at Philippi then: Now I haue taken heart, thou vanishest. Ill Spirit, I would hold more talke with thee. Boy, Lucius, Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake: Claudio

Luc. The strings my Lord, are false

Bru. He thinkes he still is at his Instrument. Lucius, awake

Luc. My Lord

Bru. Did'st thou dreame Lucius, that thou so cryedst out? Luc. My Lord, I do not know that I did cry

Bru. Yes that thou did'st: Did'st thou see any thing? Luc. Nothing my Lord

Bru. Sleepe againe Lucius: Sirra Claudio, Fellow, Thou: Awake

Var. My Lord

Clau. My Lord

Bru. Why did you so cry out sirs, in your sleepe? Both. Did we my Lord? Bru. I: saw you any thing? Var. No my Lord, I saw nothing

Clau. Nor I my Lord

Bru. Go, and commend me to my Brother Cassius: Bid him set on his Powres betimes before, And we will follow

Both. It shall be done my Lord.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Octauius, Antony, and their Army.

Octa. Now Antony, our hopes are answered, You said the Enemy would not come downe, But keepe the Hilles and vpper Regions: It proues not so: their battailes are at hand, They meane to warne vs at Philippi heere: Answering before we do demand of them

Ant. Tut I am in their bosomes, and I know Wherefore they do it: They could be content To visit other places, and come downe With fearefull brauery: thinking by this face To fasten in our thoughts that they haue Courage; But 'tis not so. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Prepare you Generals, The Enemy comes on in gallant shew: Their bloody signe of Battell is hung out, And something to be done immediately

Ant. Octauius, leade your Battaile softly on Vpon the left hand of the euen Field

Octa. Vpon the right hand I, keepe thou the left

Ant. Why do you crosse me in this exigent

Octa. I do not crosse you: but I will do so.

March.

Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, & their Army.

Bru. They stand, and would haue parley

Cassi. Stand fast Titinius, we must out and talke

Octa. Mark Antony, shall we giue signe of Battaile? Ant. No Caesar, we will answer on their Charge. Make forth, the Generals would haue some words

Oct. Stirre not vntill the Signall

Bru. Words before blowes: is it so Countrymen? Octa. Not that we loue words better, as you do

Bru. Good words are better then bad strokes Octauius

An. In your bad strokes Brutus, you giue good words Witnesse the hole you made in Caesars heart, Crying long liue, Haile Caesar

Cassi. Antony, The posture of your blowes are yet vnknowne; But for your words, they rob the Hibla Bees, And leaue them Hony-lesse

Ant. Not stinglesse too

Bru. O yes, and soundlesse too: For you haue stolne their buzzing Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting

Ant. Villains: you did not so, when your vile daggers Hackt one another in the sides of Caesar: You shew'd your teethes like Apes, And fawn'd like Hounds, And bow'd like Bondmen, kissing Caesars feete; Whil'st damned Caska, like a Curre, behinde Strooke Caesar on the necke. O you Flatterers

Cassi. Flatterers? Now Brutus thanke your selfe, This tongue had not offended so to day. If Cassius might haue rul'd

Octa. Come, come, the cause. If arguing make vs swet, The proofe of it will turne to redder drops: Looke, I draw a Sword against Conspirators, When thinke you that the Sword goes vp againe? Neuer till Caesars three and thirtie wounds Be well aueng'd; or till another Caesar Haue added slaughter to the Sword of Traitors

Brut. Caesar, thou canst not dye by Traitors hands. Vnlesse thou bring'st them with thee

Octa. So I hope: I was not borne to dye on Brutus Sword

Bru. O if thou wer't the Noblest of thy Straine, Yong-man, thou could'st not dye more honourable

Cassi. A peeuish School-boy, worthles of such Honor Ioyn'd with a Masker, and a Reueller

Ant. Old Cassius still

Octa. Come Antony: away: Defiance Traitors, hurle we in your teeth. If you dare fight to day, come to the Field; If not, when you haue stomackes.

Exit Octauius, Antony, and Army

Cassi. Why now blow winde, swell Billow, And swimme Barke: The Storme is vp, and all is on the hazard

Bru. Ho Lucillius, hearke, a word with you.

Lucillius and Messala stand forth.

Luc. My Lord

Cassi. Messala

Messa. What sayes my Generall? Cassi. Messala, this is my Birth-day: at this very day Was Cassius borne. Giue me thy hand Messala: Be thou my witnesse, that against my will (As Pompey was) am I compell'd to set Vpon one Battell all our Liberties. You know, that I held Epicurus strong, And his Opinion: Now I change my minde, And partly credit things that do presage. Comming from Sardis, on our former Ensigne Two mighty Eagles fell, and there they pearch'd, Gorging and feeding from our Soldiers hands, Who to Philippi heere consorted vs: This Morning are they fled away, and gone, And in their steeds, do Rauens, Crowes, and Kites Fly ore our heads, and downward looke on vs As we were sickely prey; their shadowes seeme A Canopy most fatall, vnder which Our Army lies, ready to giue vp the Ghost

Messa. Beleeue not so

Cassi. I but beleeue it partly, For I am fresh of spirit, and resolu'd To meete all perils, very constantly

Bru. Euen so Lucillius

Cassi. Now most Noble Brutus, The Gods to day stand friendly, that we may Louers in peace, leade on our dayes to age. But since the affayres of men rests still incertaine, Let's reason with the worst that may befall. If we do lose this Battaile, then is this The very last time we shall speake together: What are you then determined to do? Bru. Euen by the rule of that Philosophy, By which I did blame Cato, for the death Which he did giue himselfe, I know not how: But I do finde it Cowardly, and vile, For feare of what might fall, so to preuent The time of life, arming my selfe with patience, To stay the prouidence of some high Powers, That gouerne vs below

Cassi. Then, if we loose this Battaile, You are contented to be led in Triumph Thorow the streets of Rome

Bru. No Cassius, no: Thinke not thou Noble Romane, That euer Brutus will go bound to Rome, He beares too great a minde. But this same day Must end that worke, the Ides of March begun. And whether we shall meete againe, I know not: Therefore our euerlasting farewell take: For euer, and for euer, farewell Cassius, If we do meete againe, why we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made

Cassi. For euer, and for euer, farewell Brutus: If we do meete againe, wee'l smile indeede; If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made

Bru. Why then leade on. O that a man might know The end of this dayes businesse, ere it come: But it sufficeth, that the day will end, And then the end is knowne. Come ho, away.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.

Bru. Ride, ride Messala, ride and giue these Billes Vnto the Legions, on the other side.

Lowd Alarum.

Let them set on at once: for I perceiue But cold demeanor in Octauio's wing: And sodaine push giues them the ouerthrow: Ride, ride Messala, let them all come downe.

Exeunt.

Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius.

Cassi. O looke Titinius, looke, the Villaines flye: My selfe haue to mine owne turn'd Enemy: This Ensigne heere of mine was turning backe, I slew the Coward, and did take it from him

Titin. O Cassius, Brutus gaue the word too early, Who hauing some aduantage on Octauius, Tooke it too eagerly: his Soldiers fell to spoyle, Whilst we by Antony are all inclos'd. Enter Pindarus.

Pind. Fly further off my Lord: flye further off, Mark Antony is in your Tents my Lord: Flye therefore Noble Cassius, flye farre off

Cassi. This Hill is farre enough. Looke, look Titinius Are those my Tents where I perceiue the fire? Tit. They are, my Lord

Cassi. Titinius, if thou louest me, Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurres in him, Till he haue brought thee vp to yonder Troopes And heere againe, that I may rest assur'd Whether yond Troopes, are Friend or Enemy

Tit. I will be heere againe, euen with a thought. Enter.

Cassi. Go Pindarus, get higher on that hill, My sight was euer thicke: regard Titinius, And tell me what thou not'st about the Field. This day I breathed first, Time is come round, And where I did begin, there shall I end, My life is run his compasse. Sirra, what newes? Pind. Aboue. O my Lord

Cassi. What newes? Pind. Titinius is enclosed round about With Horsemen, that make to him on the Spurre, Yet he spurres on. Now they are almost on him: Now Titinius. Now some light: O he lights too. Hee's tane.

Showt.

And hearke, they shout for ioy

Cassi. Come downe, behold no more: O Coward that I am, to liue so long, To see my best Friend tane before my face Enter Pindarus.

Come hither sirrah: In Parthia did I take thee Prisoner, And then I swore thee, sauing of thy life, That whatsoeuer I did bid thee do, Thou should'st attempt it. Come now, keepe thine oath, Now be a Free-man, and with this good Sword That ran through Caesars bowels, search this bosome. Stand not to answer: Heere, take thou the Hilts, And when my face is couer'd, as 'tis now, Guide thou the Sword- Caesar, thou art reueng'd, Euen with the Sword that kill'd thee

Pin. So, I am free, Yet would not so haue beene Durst I haue done my will. O Cassius, Farre from this Country Pindarus shall run, Where neuer Roman shall take note of him. Enter Titinius and Messala.

Messa. It is but change, Titinius: for Octauius Is ouerthrowne by Noble Brutus power, As Cassius Legions are by Antony

Titin. These tydings will well comfort Cassius

Messa. Where did you leaue him

Titin. All disconsolate, With Pindarus his Bondman, on this Hill

Messa. Is not that he that lyes vpon the ground? Titin. He lies not like the Liuing. O my heart! Messa. Is not that hee? Titin. No, this was he Messala, But Cassius is no more. O setting Sunne: As in thy red Rayes thou doest sinke to night; So in his red blood Cassius day is set. The Sunne of Rome is set. Our day is gone, Clowds, Dewes, and Dangers come; our deeds are done: Mistrust of my successe hath done this deed

Messa. Mistrust of good successe hath done this deed. O hatefull Error, Melancholies Childe: Why do'st thou shew to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O Error soone conceyu'd, Thou neuer com'st vnto a happy byrth, But kil'st the Mother that engendred thee

Tit. What Pindarus? Where art thou Pindarus? Messa. Seeke him Titinius, whilst I go to meet The Noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his eares; I may say thrusting it: For piercing Steele, and Darts inuenomed, Shall be as welcome to the eares of Brutus, As tydings of this sight

Tit. Hye you Messala, And I will seeke for Pindarus the while: Why did'st thou send me forth braue Cassius? Did I not meet thy Friends, and did not they Put on my Browes this wreath of Victorie, And bid me giue it thee? Did'st thou not heare their showts? Alas, thou hast misconstrued euery thing. But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow, Thy Brutus bid me giue it thee, and I Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace, And see how I regarded Caius Cassius: By your leaue Gods: This is a Romans part, Come Cassius Sword, and finde Titinius hart.

Dies

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, yong Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucillius.

Bru. Where, where Messala, doth his body lye? Messa. Loe yonder, and Titinius mourning it

Bru. Titinius face is vpward

Cato. He is slaine

Bru. O Iulius Caesar, thou art mighty yet, Thy Spirit walkes abroad, and turnes our Swords In our owne proper Entrailes. Low Alarums

Cato. Braue Titinius, Looke where he haue not crown'd dead Cassius

Bru. Are yet two Romans liuing such as these? The last of all the Romans, far thee well: It is impossible, that euer Rome Should breed thy fellow. Friends I owe mo teares To this dead man, then you shall see me pay. I shall finde time, Cassius: I shall finde time. Come therefore, and to Tharsus send his body, His Funerals shall not be in our Campe, Least it discomfort vs. Lucillius come, And come yong Cato, let vs to the Field, Labio and Flauio set our Battailes on: 'Tis three a clocke, and Romans yet ere night, We shall try Fortune in a second fight.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lucillius, and Flauius.

Bru. Yet Country-men: O yet, hold vp your heads

Cato. What Bastard doth not? Who will go with me? I will proclaime my name about the Field. I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe. A Foe to Tyrants, and my Countries Friend. I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe. Enter Souldiers, and fight.

And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I, Brutus my Countries Friend: Know me for Brutus

Luc. O yong and Noble Cato, art thou downe? Why now thou dyest, as brauely as Titinius, And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's Sonne

Sold. Yeeld, or thou dyest

Luc. Onely I yeeld to dye: There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight: Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death

Sold. We must not: a Noble Prisoner. Enter Antony.

2.Sold. Roome hoe: tell Antony, Brutus is tane

1.Sold. Ile tell thee newes. Heere comes the Generall, Brutus is tane, Brutus is tane my Lord

Ant. Where is hee? Luc. Safe Antony, Brutus is safe enough: I dare assure thee, that no Enemy Shall euer take aliue the Noble Brutus: The Gods defend him from so great a shame, When you do finde him, or aliue, or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himselfe

Ant. This is not Brutus friend, but I assure you, A prize no lesse in worth; keepe this man safe, Giue him all kindnesse. I had rather haue Such men my Friends, then Enemies. Go on, And see where Brutus be aliue or dead, And bring vs word, vnto Octauius Tent: How euery thing is chanc'd.

Exeunt.

Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.

Brut. Come poore remaines of friends, rest on this Rocke

Clit. Statillius shew'd the Torch-light, but my Lord He came not backe: he is or tane, or slaine

Brut. Sit thee downe, Clitus: slaying is the word, It is a deed in fashion. Hearke thee, Clitus

Clit. What I, my Lord? No, not for all the World

Brut. Peace then, no words

Clit. Ile rather kill my selfe

Brut. Hearke thee, Dardanius

Dard. Shall I doe such a deed? Clit. O Dardanius

Dard. O Clitus

Clit. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? Dard. To kill him, Clitus: looke he meditates

Clit. Now is that Noble Vessell full of griefe, That it runnes ouer euen at his eyes

Brut. Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word

Volum. What sayes my Lord? Brut. Why this, Volumnius: The Ghost of Caesar hath appear'd to me Two seuerall times by Night: at Sardis, once; And this last Night, here in Philippi fields: I know my houre is come

Volum. Not so, my Lord

Brut. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the World, Volumnius, how it goes, Our Enemies haue beat vs to the Pit:

Low Alarums.

It is more worthy, to leape in our selues, Then tarry till they push vs. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st, that we two went to Schoole together: Euen for that our loue of old, I prethee Hold thou my Sword Hilts, whilest I runne on it

Vol. That's not an Office for a friend, my Lord.

Alarum still.

Cly. Fly, flye my Lord, there is no tarrying heere

Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and Volumnius. Strato, thou hast bin all this while asleepe: Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen: My heart doth ioy, that yet in all my life, I found no man, but he was true to me. I shall haue glory by this loosing day More then Octauius, and Marke Antony, By this vile Conquest shall attaine vnto. So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongue Hath almost ended his liues History: Night hangs vpon mine eyes, my Bones would rest, That haue but labour'd, to attaine this houre.

Alarum. Cry within, Flye, flye, flye.

Cly. Fly my Lord, flye

Bru. Hence: I will follow: I prythee Strato, stay thou by thy Lord, Thou art a Fellow of a good respect: Thy life hath had some smatch of Honor in it, Hold then my Sword, and turne away thy face, While I do run vpon it. Wilt thou Strato? Stra. Giue me your hand first. Fare you wel my Lord

Bru. Farewell good Strato. - Caesar, now be still, I kill'd not thee with halfe so good a will. Dyes.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octauius, Messala, Lucillius, and the Army.

Octa. What man is that? Messa. My Masters man. Strato, where is thy Master? Stra. Free from the Bondage you are in Messala, The Conquerors can but make a fire of him: For Brutus onely ouercame himselfe, And no man else hath Honor by his death

Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee Brutus That thou hast prou'd Lucillius saying true, Octa. All that seru'd Brutus, I will entertaine them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stra. I, if Messala will preferre me to you

Octa. Do so, good Messala

Messa. How dyed my Master Strato? Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it

Messa. Octauius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest seruice to my Master

Ant. This was the Noblest Roman of them all: All the Conspirators saue onely hee, Did that they did, in enuy of great Caesar: He, onely in a generall honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the Elements So mixt in him, that Nature might stand vp, And say to all the world; This was a man

Octa. According to his Vertue, let vs vse him Withall Respect, and Rites of Buriall. Within my Tent his bones to night shall ly, Most like a Souldier ordered Honourably: So call the Field to rest, and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day.

Exeunt. omnes.

FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF IVLIVS CaeSAR.

The Tragedie of Macbeth

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.

1. When shall we three meet againe? In Thunder, Lightning, or in Raine? 2. When the Hurley-burley's done, When the Battaile's lost, and wonne

3. That will be ere the set of Sunne

1. Where the place? 2. Vpon the Heath

3. There to meet with Macbeth

1. I come, Gray-Malkin

All. Padock calls anon: faire is foule, and foule is faire, Houer through the fogge and filthie ayre.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Alarum within. Enter King Malcome, Donalbaine, Lenox, with attendants, meeting a bleeding Captaine.

King. What bloody man is that? he can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the Reuolt The newest state

Mal. This is the Serieant, Who like a good and hardie Souldier fought 'Gainst my Captiuitie: Haile braue friend; Say to the King, the knowledge of the Broyle, As thou didst leaue it

Cap. Doubtfull it stood, As two spent Swimmers, that doe cling together, And choake their Art: The mercilesse Macdonwald (Worthie to be a Rebell, for to that The multiplying Villanies of Nature Doe swarme vpon him) from the Westerne Isles Of Kernes and Gallowgrosses is supply'd, And Fortune on his damned Quarry smiling, Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but all's too weake: For braue Macbeth (well hee deserues that Name) Disdayning Fortune, with his brandisht Steele, Which smoak'd with bloody execution (Like Valours Minion) caru'd out his passage, Till hee fac'd the Slaue: Which neu'r shooke hands, nor bad farwell to him, Till he vnseam'd him from the Naue toth' Chops, And fix'd his Head vpon our Battlements

King. O valiant Cousin, worthy Gentleman

Cap. As whence the Sunne 'gins his reflection, Shipwracking Stormes, and direfull Thunders: So from that Spring, whence comfort seem'd to come, Discomfort swells: Marke King of Scotland, marke, No sooner Iustice had, with Valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heeles, But the Norweyan Lord, surueying vantage, With furbusht Armes, and new supplyes of men, Began a fresh assault

King. Dismay'd not this our Captaines, Macbeth and Banquoh? Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes, Eagles; Or the Hare, the Lyon: If I say sooth, I must report they were As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks, So they doubly redoubled stroakes vpon the Foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds, Or memorize another Golgotha, I cannot tell: but I am faint, My Gashes cry for helpe

King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds, They smack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons. Enter Rosse and Angus.

Who comes here? Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse

Lenox. What a haste lookes through his eyes? So should he looke, that seemes to speake things strange

Rosse. God saue the King

King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane? Rosse. From Fiffe, great King, Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie, And fanne our people cold. Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyall Traytor, The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismall Conflict, Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe, Confronted him with selfe-comparisons, Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme, Curbing his lauish spirit: and to conclude, The Victorie fell on vs

King. Great happinesse

Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norwayes King, Craues composition: Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men, Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes ynch, Ten thousand Dollars, to our generall vse

King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceiue Our Bosome interest: Goe pronounce his present death, And with his former Title greet Macbeth

Rosse. Ile see it done

King. What he hath lost, Noble Macbeth hath wonne.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1. Where hast thou beene, Sister? 2. Killing Swine

3. Sister, where thou? 1. A Saylors Wife had Chestnuts in her Lappe, And mouncht, & mouncht, and mouncht: Giue me, quoth I. Aroynt thee, Witch, the rumpe-fed Ronyon cryes. Her Husband's to Aleppo gone, Master o'th' Tiger: But in a Syue Ile thither sayle, And like a Rat without a tayle, Ile doe, Ile doe, and Ile doe

2. Ile giue thee a Winde

1. Th'art kinde

3. And I another

1. I my selfe haue all the other, And the very Ports they blow, All the Quarters that they know, I'th' Ship-mans Card. Ile dreyne him drie as Hay: Sleepe shall neyther Night nor Day Hang vpon his Pent-house Lid: He shall liue a man forbid: Wearie Seu'nights, nine times nine, Shall he dwindle, peake, and pine: Though his Barke cannot be lost, Yet it shall be Tempest-tost. Looke what I haue

2. Shew me, shew me

1. Here I haue a Pilots Thumbe, Wrackt, as homeward he did come.

Drum within.

3. A Drumme, a Drumme: Macbeth doth come

All. The weyward Sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the Sea and Land, Thus doe goe, about, about, Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice againe, to make vp nine. Peace, the Charme's wound vp. Enter Macbeth and Banquo.

Macb. So foule and faire a day I haue not seene

Banquo. How farre is't call'd to Soris? What are these, So wither'd, and so wilde in their attyre, That looke not like th' Inhabitants o'th' Earth, And yet are on't? Liue you, or are you aught That man may question? you seeme to vnderstand me, By each at once her choppie finger laying Vpon her skinnie Lips: you should be Women, And yet your Beards forbid me to interprete That you are so

Mac. Speake if you can: what are you? 1. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Glamis

2. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Cawdor

3. All haile Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter

Banq. Good Sir, why doe you start, and seeme to feare Things that doe sound so faire? i'th' name of truth Are ye fantasticall, or that indeed Which outwardly ye shew? My Noble Partner You greet with present Grace, and great prediction Of Noble hauing, and of Royall hope, That he seemes wrapt withall: to me you speake not. If you can looke into the Seedes of Time, And say, which Graine will grow, and which will not, Speake then to me, who neyther begge, nor feare Your fauors, nor your hate

1. Hayle

2. Hayle

3. Hayle

1. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater

2. Not so happy, yet much happyer

3. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none: So all haile Macbeth, and Banquo

1. Banquo, and Macbeth, all haile

Macb. Stay you imperfect Speakers, tell me more: By Sinells death, I know I am Thane of Glamis, But how, of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor liues A prosperous Gentleman: And to be King, Stands not within the prospect of beleefe, No more then to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange Intelligence, or why Vpon this blasted Heath you stop our way With such Prophetique greeting? Speake, I charge you.

Witches vanish.

Banq. The Earth hath bubbles, as the Water ha's, And these are of them: whither are they vanish'd? Macb. Into the Ayre: and what seem'd corporall, Melted, as breath into the Winde. Would they had stay'd

Banq. Were such things here, as we doe speake about? Or haue we eaten on the insane Root, That takes the Reason Prisoner? Macb. Your Children shall be Kings

Banq. You shall be King

Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? Banq. Toth' selfe-same tune and words: who's here? Enter Rosse and Angus.

Rosse. The King hath happily receiu'd, Macbeth, The newes of thy successe: and when he reades Thy personall Venture in the Rebels sight, His Wonders and his Prayses doe contend, Which should be thine, or his: silenc'd with that, In viewing o're the rest o'th' selfe-same day, He findes thee in the stout Norweyan Rankes, Nothing afeard of what thy selfe didst make Strange Images of death, as thick as Tale Can post with post, and euery one did beare Thy prayses in his Kingdomes great defence, And powr'd them downe before him

Ang. Wee are sent, To giue thee from our Royall Master thanks, Onely to harrold thee into his sight, Not pay thee

Rosse. And for an earnest of a greater Honor, He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor: In which addition, haile most worthy Thane, For it is thine

Banq. What, can the Deuill speake true? Macb. The Thane of Cawdor liues: Why doe you dresse me in borrowed Robes? Ang. Who was the Thane, liues yet, But vnder heauie Iudgement beares that Life, Which he deserues to loose. Whether he was combin'd with those of Norway, Or did lyne the Rebell with hidden helpe, And vantage; or that with both he labour'd In his Countreyes wracke, I know not: But Treasons Capitall, confess'd, and prou'd, Haue ouerthrowne him

Macb. Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behinde. Thankes for your paines. Doe you not hope your Children shall be Kings, When those that gaue the Thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no lesse to them

Banq. That trusted home, Might yet enkindle you vnto the Crowne, Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: And oftentimes, to winne vs to our harme, The Instruments of Darknesse tell vs Truths, Winne vs with honest Trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. Cousins, a word, I pray you

Macb. Two Truths are told, As happy Prologues to the swelling Act Of the Imperiall Theame. I thanke you Gentlemen: This supernaturall solliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill? why hath it giuen me earnest of successe, Commencing in a Truth? I am Thane of Cawdor. If good? why doe I yeeld to that suggestion, Whose horrid Image doth vnfixe my Heire, And make my seated Heart knock at my Ribbes, Against the vse of Nature? Present Feares Are lesse then horrible Imaginings: My Thought, whose Murther yet is but fantasticall, Shakes so my single state of Man, That Function is smother'd in surmise, And nothing is, but what is not

Banq. Looke how our Partner's rapt

Macb. If Chance will haue me King, Why Chance may Crowne me, Without my stirre

Banq. New Honors come vpon him Like our strange Garments, cleaue not to their mould, But with the aid of vse

Macb. Come what come may, Time, and the Houre, runs through the roughest Day

Banq. Worthy Macbeth, wee stay vpon your leysure

Macb. Giue me your fauour: My dull Braine was wrought with things forgotten. Kinde Gentlemen, your paines are registred, Where euery day I turne the Leafe, To reade them. Let vs toward the King: thinke vpon What hath chanc'd: and at more time, The Interim hauing weigh'd it, let vs speake Our free Hearts each to other

Banq. Very gladly

Macb. Till then enough: Come friends.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Flourish. Enter King, Lenox, Malcolme, Donalbaine, and Attendants.

King. Is execution done on Cawdor? Or not those in Commission yet return'd? Mal. My Liege, they are not yet come back. But I haue spoke with one that saw him die: Who did report, that very frankly hee Confess'd his Treasons, implor'd your Highnesse Pardon, And set forth a deepe Repentance: Nothing in his Life became him, Like the leauing it. Hee dy'de, As one that had beene studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, As 'twere a carelesse Trifle

King. There's no Art, To finde the Mindes construction in the Face. He was a Gentleman, on whom I built An absolute Trust. Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.

O worthyest Cousin, The sinne of my Ingratitude euen now Was heauie on me. Thou art so farre before, That swiftest Wing of Recompence is slow, To ouertake thee. Would thou hadst lesse deseru'd, That the proportion both of thanks, and payment, Might haue beene mine: onely I haue left to say, More is thy due, then more then all can pay

Macb. The seruice, and the loyaltie I owe, In doing it, payes it selfe. Your Highnesse part, is to receiue our Duties: And our Duties are to your Throne, and State, Children, and Seruants; which doe but what they should, By doing euery thing safe toward your Loue And Honor

King. Welcome hither: I haue begun to plant thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, That hast no lesse deseru'd, nor must be knowne No lesse to haue done so: Let me enfold thee, And hold thee to my Heart

Banq. There if I grow, The Haruest is your owne

King. My plenteous Ioyes, Wanton in fulnesse, seeke to hide themselues In drops of sorrow. Sonnes, Kinsmen, Thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know, We will establish our Estate vpon Our eldest, Malcolme, whom we name hereafter, The Prince of Cumberland: which Honor must Not vnaccompanied, inuest him onely, But signes of Noblenesse, like Starres, shall shine On all deseruers. From hence to Envernes, And binde vs further to you

Macb. The Rest is Labor, which is not vs'd for you: Ile be my selfe the Herbenger, and make ioyfull The hearing of my Wife, with your approach: So humbly take my leaue

King. My worthy Cawdor

Macb. The Prince of Cumberland: that is a step, On which I must fall downe, or else o're-leape, For in my way it lyes. Starres hide your fires, Let not Light see my black and deepe desires: The Eye winke at the Hand: yet let that bee, Which the Eye feares, when it is done to see. Enter.

King. True worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant, And in his commendations, I am fed: It is a Banquet to me. Let's after him, Whose care is gone before, to bid vs welcome: It is a peerelesse Kinsman.

Flourish. Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Macbeths Wife alone with a Letter.

Lady. They met me in the day of successe: and I haue learn'd by the perfect'st report, they haue more in them, then mortall knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them further, they made themselues Ayre, into which they vanish'd. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came Missiues from the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawdor, by which Title before, these weyward Sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to the comming on of time, with haile King that shalt be. This haue I thought good to deliuer thee (my dearest Partner of Greatnesse) that thou might'st not loose the dues of reioycing by being ignorant of what Greatnesse is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart and farewell. Glamys thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promis'd: yet doe I feare thy Nature, It is too full o'th' Milke of humane kindnesse, To catch the neerest way. Thou would'st be great, Art not without Ambition, but without The illnesse should attend it. What thou would'st highly, That would'st thou holily: would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly winne. Thould'st haue, great Glamys, that which cryes, Thus thou must doe, if thou haue it; And that which rather thou do'st feare to doe, Then wishest should be vndone. High thee hither, That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare, And chastise with the valour of my Tongue All that impeides thee from the Golden Round, Which Fate and Metaphysicall ayde doth seeme To haue thee crown'd withall. Enter Messenger.

What is your tidings? Mess. The King comes here to Night

Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it. Is not thy Master with him? who, wer't so, Would haue inform'd for preparation

Mess. So please you, it is true: our Thane is comming: One of my fellowes had the speed of him; Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Then would make vp his Message

Lady. Giue him tending, He brings great newes,

Exit Messenger.

The Rauen himselfe is hoarse, That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncan Vnder my Battlements. Come you Spirits, That tend on mortall thoughts, vnsex me here, And fill me from the Crowne to the Toe, top-full Of direst Crueltie: make thick my blood, Stop vp th' accesse, and passage to Remorse, That no compunctious visitings of Nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keepe peace betweene Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Womans Brests, And take my Milke for Gall, you murth'ring Ministers, Where-euer, in your sightlesse substances, You wait on Natures Mischiefe. Come thick Night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoake of Hell, That my keene Knife see not the Wound it makes, Nor Heauen peepe through the Blanket of the darke, To cry, hold, hold. Enter Macbeth.

Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor, Greater then both, by the all-haile hereafter, Thy Letters haue transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feele now The future in the instant

Macb. My dearest Loue, Duncan comes here to Night

Lady. And when goes hence? Macb. To morrow, as he purposes

Lady. O neuer, Shall Sunne that Morrow see. Your Face, my Thane, is as a Booke, where men May reade strange matters, to beguile the time. Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye, Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th' innocent flower, But be the Serpent vnder't. He that's comming, Must be prouided for: and you shall put This Nights great Businesse into my dispatch, Which shall to all our Nights, and Dayes to come, Giue solely soueraigne sway, and Masterdome

Macb. We will speake further, Lady. Onely looke vp cleare: To alter fauor, euer is to feare: Leaue all the rest to me.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Hoboyes, and Torches. Enter King, Malcolme, Donalbaine, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.

King. This Castle hath a pleasant seat, The ayre nimbly and sweetly recommends it selfe Vnto our gentle sences

Banq. This Guest of Summer, The Temple-haunting Barlet does approue, By his loued Mansonry, that the Heauens breath Smells wooingly here: no Iutty frieze, Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle, Where they must breed, and haunt: I haue obseru'd The ayre is delicate. Enter Lady.

King. See, see our honor'd Hostesse: The Loue that followes vs, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thanke as Loue. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid God-eyld vs for your paines, And thanke vs for your trouble

Lady. All our seruice, In euery point twice done, and then done double, Were poore, and single Businesse, to contend Against those Honors deepe, and broad, Wherewith your Maiestie loades our House: For those of old, and the late Dignities, Heap'd vp to them, we rest your Ermites

King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor? We courst him at the heeles, and had a purpose To be his Purueyor: But he rides well, And his great Loue (sharpe as his Spurre) hath holp him To his home before vs: Faire and Noble Hostesse We are your guest to night

La. Your Seruants euer, Haue theirs, themselues, and what is theirs in compt, To make their Audit at your Highnesse pleasure, Still to returne your owne

King. Giue me your hand: Conduct me to mine Host we loue him highly, And shall continue, our Graces towards him. By your leaue Hostesse.

Exeunt.

Scena Septima.

Hoboyes. Torches. Enter a Sewer, and diuers Seruants with Dishes and Seruice ouer the Stage. Then enter Macbeth

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twer well, It were done quickly: If th' Assassination Could trammell vp the Consequence, and catch With his surcease, Successe: that but this blow Might be the be all, and the end all. Heere, But heere, vpon this Banke and Schoole of time, Wee'ld iumpe the life to come. But in these Cases, We still haue iudgement heere, that we but teach Bloody Instructions, which being taught, returne To plague th' Inuenter, this euen-handed Iustice Commends th' Ingredience of our poyson'd Challice To our owne lips. Hee's heere in double trust; First, as I am his Kinsman, and his Subiect, Strong both against the Deed: Then, as his Host, Who should against his Murtherer shut the doore, Not beare the knife my selfe. Besides, this Duncane Hath borne his Faculties so meeke; hath bin So cleere in his great Office, that his Vertues Will pleade like Angels, Trumpet-tongu'd against The deepe damnation of his taking off: And Pitty, like a naked New-borne-Babe, Striding the blast, or Heauens Cherubin, hors'd Vpon the sightlesse Curriors of the Ayre, Shall blow the horrid deed in euery eye, That teares shall drowne the winde. I haue no Spurre To pricke the sides of my intent, but onely Vaulting Ambition, which ore-leapes it selfe, And falles on th' other. Enter Lady.

How now? What Newes? La. He has almost supt: why haue you left the chamber? Mac. Hath he ask'd for me? La. Know you not, he ha's? Mac. We will proceed no further in this Businesse: He hath Honour'd me of late, and I haue bought Golden Opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worne now in their newest glosse, Not cast aside so soone