All at once except Anthony and Octauian.

Omnes. Reuenge, Reuenge vpon the murtherers. Antho. Braue Lords this worthy resolution shewes, Your deerest loue, and great affection VVhich to this slaughtered Prince you alwaies bare, 1890 And may like bloudy chance befall my life: If I be slack for to reuenge his death. Octa. Now on my Lords, this body lets inter: Amongest the monuments of Roman Kinges, And build a Temple to his memory: Honoring therein his sacred Deity. Exeunt omnes.

ACT. 4. SC. 2. {SN Act IV sc. iii}

Enter Cassius, and Brutus with an army.

Cassi. Now Romains proud foe, worlds common enemy, In his greatest hight and chiefest Iollitie, 1900 In the Sacred Senate-house is done to death: Euen as the Consecrated Oxe which soundes, At horny alters, in his dying pride: VVith flowry leaues and gar-lands all bedight, Stands proudly wayting for the hasted stroke: Till hee amazed with the dismall sound, Falls to the Earth and staines the holy ground, The spoyles and riches of the conquered world, Are now but idle Trophies of his tombe: His laurell gar-landes do but Crowne his chaire, 1910 His sling, his shilde, and fatall bloudy speare, VVhich hee in battell oft 'gainst Rome did beare, Now serue for nought but rusty monuments. Bru. So Romulus when proud ambition, His former vertue and renowne had stayned: Did by the Senators receiue his end, But soft what boades Titinnius hasting speede.

Enter Titinnius.

Titin. The frantike people and impatient, By Anthonyes exhorting to reuenge: 1920 Runne madding throw the bloudy streetes of Rome, Crying Reuenge, and murthering they goe, All those that caused Caesars ouerthrowe. Cassi. The wauering people pytiyng Caesars death, Do rage at vs, who fore to winne their weale: Spare not the danger of our dearest liues, But since no safety Rome for vs affordes: Brutus weell hast vs to our Prouinces, I into Syre, thou into Maccedon, Where wee will muster vp such martiall bandes, 1930 As shall afright our following enemies. Bru. In Thessaly weele meete the Enemy, And in that ground distaynd with Pompeys bloud, And fruitefull made with Romane massaker, VVeele either sacrifice our guilty foe, To appease the furies of these howling Ghostes, That wander restles through the sliemy ground Or else that Thessaly bee a common Tombe: To bury those that fight to infranchize Rome. Titin. Brauely resolu'd, I see yong Brutus minde, 1940 Strengthned with force of vertues sacred rule: Contemneth death, and holdes proud chance in scorne. Bru. I that before fear'd not to do the deede, Shalt neuer now repent it being done, No more I Fortun'd, like the Roman Lord, Whose faith brought death yet with immortall fame, I kisse thee hand for doing such a deede: And thanke my heart for this so Noble thought, And blesse the Heauens for fauoring my attempts: For Noble Rome, and if thou beest not free, 1950 Yet I haue done what euer lay in mee: And worthy friend as both our thoughts conspired, And ioyned in vnion to performe this deede, This acceptable deede to Heauens and Rome, So lets continue in our high resolue: And as wee haue with honor thus begunne, So lets persist, vntill our liues bee done. Cassi. Then let vs go and with our warlike troopes, Collected from our seuerall Prouinces, Make Asia subiect to our Conquering armes. 1960 Brutus thou hast commanded the Illirian bandes: The feared Celts and Lusitanian horse, Parthenians proud, and Thrasians borne in warre: And Macedon yet proud with our old actes, With all the flowre of Louely Thessaly, Vnder my warlike collours there shall march: New come from Syria and from Babilon, The warlike Mede, and the Arabian Boe, The Parthian fighting when hee seemes to flie: Those conquering Gauls that built their seates in Greece, 1970 And all the Costers on the Mirapont.

ACT. 3. SCE. I. {SN Act IV sc. iv}

Enter Caesars Ghost.

Gho. Out of the horror of those shady vaultes, Where Centaurs, Harpies, paynes and furies fell: And Gods and Ghosts and vgly Gorgons dwell, My restles soule comes heere to tell his wronges. Hayle to thy walles, thou pride of all the world, Thou art the place where whilome in my life. My seat of mounting honour was erected, 1980 And my proud throane that seem'd to check the heauens: But now my pompe and I are layd more lowe, With these asosiates of my ouerthrow, Here ancient Assur and proud Belus lyes, Ninus the first that sought a Monarches name. Atrides fierce with the AEacides, The Greeke Heros, and the Troian flower, Blood-thirsting Cyrus and the conquering youth: That sought to fetch his pedegree from Heauen, Sterne Romulus and proud Tarquinius, 1990 The mighty Sirians and the Ponticke Kings, A lcides and the stout, Carthagian Lord, The fatall enemie to the Roman name. Ambitious Sylla and fierce Marius, And both the Pompeyes by me don to death, I am the last not least of the same crue, Looke on my deeds and say what Caesar was, Thessalia, AEgipt, Pontus, Africa, Spayne Brittaine, Almany and France, So many a bloody tryall of my worth. 2000 But why doe I my glory thus restraine, When all the world was but a Charyot, Wherein I rode Triumphing in my pride? But what auaylesthis tale of what I was? Since in my chefest hight Brutus base hand. With three and twenty wounds my heart did goare, Giue me my sword and shild Ile be Reueng'd, My mortall wounding speare and goulden Crest. I will dishorse my foemen in the field, Alasse poore Caesar thou a shadow art, 2010 An ayery substance wanting force and might, Then will I goe and crie vpon the world, Exclame on Anthony and Octauian, Which seeke through discord and discentions broyles, T'imbrue their weapons in each others blood, And leaue to execute my iust reuenge, I heare the drummes and bloody Trumpets sound, O how this sight my greeued soule doth wound,

Enter Anthony, at on dore, Octauian at another with Souldiers. 2020

Anth. Now martiall friends competitors in armes, You that will follow Anthony to fight, Whome stately Rome hath oft her Consull seene, Grac'd with eternall trophes of renowne, With Libian triumphes and Iiberian spoyles, Who scorns to haue his honour now distaind, Or credit blemisht by a Boyes disgrace, Prepare your dauntles stomakes to the fight, Where without striking you shall ouer come. Octa. Fellowes in war-faire which haue often serued, 2030 Vnder great Caesar my disceased sier, And haue return'd the conquerors of the world, Clad in the Spoyles of all the Orient: That will not brooke that any Roman Lord, Should iniure mighty Iulius Caesars sonne, Recall your wonted vallour and these hearts, That neuer entertaynd Ignoble thoughts And make my first warre-faire and fortunate: Ant. Stike vp drums, and let your banners flie, Thus will we set vpon the enemy. 2040 Gho. Cease Drums to strike, and fould your banners vp, Wake not Bellona with your trumpets Clange, Nor call vnwilling Mars vnto the field: See Romaines, see my wounds not yet clos'd vp, The bleeding monuments of Caesars wronges. Haue you so soone for got my life and death? My life wherein I reard your fortunes vp. My death wherein my reared fortune fell, My life admir'd and wondred at of men? My death which seem'd vnworthy to the Gods, 2050 My life which heap'd on you rewards and gifts, My death now begges one gift; a iust reueng. Ant. A Chilly cowld possesseth all my Ioyntes, And pale wan feare doth cease my fainting heart, Octa. O see how terrible my Fathers lookes? My haire stands stiffe to see his greisly hue: Alasse I deare not looke him in the face, And words do cleaue to my benummed Iawes. Gho. For shame weake Anthony throw thy weapons downe Sonne sheath thy sword, not now for to be drawne, 2060 Brutus must feele the heauy stroke thereof: But if that needes you will into the field, And that warrs enuie pricks your forward hate. To slacke your fury with each others blood, Then forward on to your prepared deaths Let sad Alecto sound her fearefull trump, Reueng a rise in lothsome sable weedes, Light-shining Treasons and vnquenced Hates, Horror and vgly Murther (nights blacke child,) Let sterne Maegera on her thundering drumme, 2070 Play gastly musicke to comsort your deathes. Banner to banner, foote gainst foote opos'd, Sword against sword, shild gainst shild, and life to life, Let death goe raginge through your armed rankes, And load himselfe with heapes of murthered men, And let Heauens iustice send you all to Hell, Anth. Shamst thou not Anthony to draw thy sword, On Caesars Sonne, for rude rash youth full brawles, And dost let passe their treason vnrevenged, That Caesars life and glory both did end, 2080 Octa. Shame of my selfe, and this intended fight, Doth make me feare t' approach his dreadfull sight: Forgiue my slacknes to reuenge thy wronges, Pardon my youth that rashly was mislead, Through vaine ambition for to doe this deed, Gho. Then ioyne your hands and heare let battle cease, Chang feare to Ioy, and warre to smooth-fac't Peace. Oct. Then Father heere in sight of Heauen and thee, I giue my hand and heart to Anthony, Ant. Take likewise mine, the hand that once was vowd', 2090 To bee imbrued in thy luke-warme bloud, VVhich now shall strike in yong Octauians rights. Gho. Now sweare by all the Dieties of Heauen, All Gods and powers you do adore and serue: For to returne my murther on their cruell head, Whose trayterous hands my guiltles bloud haue shed. Anth. Then by the Gods that through the raging waues, Brought thee braue Troian to old Latium, And great Quirinus placed now in Heauen: By the Gradinus that with shield of Brasse, 2100 Defendest Rome, by the ouerburning flames Of Vesta and Carpeian Towers of Ioue. Vowes Anthony to quite thy worthy death, Or in performance loose his vitall breath. Octa. The like Octauian vowes to Heauen and thee. Gho. Then go braue warriors with succesfull hap, Fortune shall waite vpon your rightfull armes, And courage sparkell, from your Princely eyes, Dartes of reuenge to daunt your enemies. Antho. Now with our armies both conioyned in one, 2110 Weele meete the enemy in Macedon: AEmathian fieldes shall change her flowry greene, And die proud Flora in a sadder hew: Siluer Stremonia, whose faire Christall waues, Once founded great Alcides echoing fame: When as he slew that fruitefull headed snake, Which Lerna long-time fostered in her wombe: Shall in more tragick accentes and sad tunes, Eccho the terror of thy dismall sight, Hemus shall fat his barren fieldes with bloud: 2120 And yellow Ceres spring from woundes of men, The toyling husband-men in time to come, Shall with his harrow strike on rusty helmes, And finde, and wonder, at our swordes and speares, And with his plowe dig vp braue Romans graues:



ACT. 5. SCE 1. {SN Chor. V}

Enter Discord.

Dis. The balefull haruest of my ioy, thy woe Gins ripen Brutus, Heauens commande it so. 2130 Pale sad Auernus opes his yawning Iawes, Seeking to swallow vp thy murtherous soule, The furies haue proclaym'd a festiuall: And meane to day to banquet with thy bloud, Now Heauens array you in your clowdy weedes: Wrap vp the beauty of your glorious lamp, And dreadfull Chaos, of sad drery night, Thou Sunne that climest vp to the easterne hill: And in thy Chariot rides with swift steedes drawne, In thy proud Iollity and radiant glory: 2140 Go back againe and hide thee in the sea, Darkenesse to day shall couer all the world: Let no light shine, but what your swords can strike, From out their steely helmes, and fiery shildes: Furies, and Ghosts, with your blue-burning lampes, In mazing terror ride through Roman rankes: With dread affrighting those stout Champions hearts, All stygian fiendes now leaue whereas you dwell: And come into the world and make it hell.

{SN Act. V sc. i}

Enter Cassius, Brutus, Titinnius, Cato Iunior, with an army marching

Casi. Thus far wee march with vnresisted armes, 2152 Subduing all that did our powres with-stand: Laodicia whose high reared walles, Faire Lyeas washeth with her siluer waue: And that braue monument of Perseus fame, With Tursos vaild to vs her vanting pride, Faire Rhodes, I weepe to thinke vpon thy fall; Thou wert to stubberne, else thou still hadst stood, Inviolate of Cassius hurtles hand, 2160 That was my nurse, where in my youth I drew The flowing milke of Greekish eloquence: Proud Capadocia sawe her King captiu'd, (And Dolabella vanting in the spoyles. Of slayne Trebonius) fall as springing tree, Seated in louely Tempes pleasant shades: Whom beuteous spring with blossoms braue hath deckt, And sweete Fauonia manteled all in greene, By winters rage doth loose his flowry pride, And hath each twigg bar'd by northerne winds. 2170 Thus from the conquest of proud Palestine, Hether in triumph haue we march'd along, Making our force-commaunding rule to stretch, From faire Euphrates christall flowing waues Vnto the Sea which yet weepes Io's death, Slayne by great Hercules repenting hand, Bru. Of all the places by my sword subdued, Pitty of thee poore Zanthus moues me most; Thrise hast thou ben beseeged by thy foe, And thrise to saue thy liberty hast felt 2180 The fatall flames of thine owne cruell hand. First being beseeg'd by Harpalus the Mede, The sterne performer of proud Cyrus wrath: Next when the Macedonian Phillips sonne, Did rayse his engines gainst thy battered walls, Proud Zanthus that did scorne to beare the yoake, That all the world was forced to sustaine, Last when that I my selfe did guirt thy walls, With troopes of high resolued Roman hearts, Rather then thou wouldest yeeld to Brutus sword, 2190 Or stayne the mayden honour of thy Towne, Did'st sadly fall as proud Numantia. Scorning to yeeld to conquering Scipios power. Cas. And now to thee Phillipi, are wee come, Whose fields must twise feele Roman cruelty, And flowing blood like to Daercean playnes, When proud Eteocles on his foaming steede, Rides in his fury through the Argean troopes, Now making great AErastus giue him way, Now beating back Tidaeus puissant might: 2200 The ground not dry'd from sad Pharsalian blood, Will now bee turned to a purple lake: And bleeding heapes and mangled bodyes slayne, Shall make such hills as shall surpasse in height The Snowy Alpes and aery Appenines, Titi. A Scout brought word but now that he descryd, Warlike Anthonius and young Caesars troopes, Marching in fury ouer Thessalian playnes. As great Gradinus when in angry moode, He driues his chariot downe from heauens top, 2210 And in his wheels whirleth reueng and death: Heere by Phillippi they will pich their tents, And in these fieldes (fatall to Roman liues.) Hazard the fortune of the doubtfull fight, Cat. O welcome thou this long expected day, On which dependeth Romane liberty, Now Rome thy freedom hangeth in suspence, And this the day that must assure thy hopes. Cassi. Great Ioue, and thou Trytonyan warlike Queene: Arm'd with thy amazing deadly Gorgons head. 2220 Strenghen our armes that fight for Roman welth: And thou sterne Mars, and Romulus thy Sonne, Defend that Citty which your selfe begun. All heauenly powers assist our rightfull armes, And send downe siluer winged victory, To crowne with Lawrells our triumphant Crests. Bru. My minde thats trobled in my vexed soule, (Opprest with sorrow and with sad dismay,) Misgiues me this wilbe a heauy day. Cassi. Why faynt not now in these our last extremes, 2230 This time craues courage not dispayring feare, Titin. Fie, twill distayne thy former valiant acts. To say thou faintest now in this last act, Bru. My mind is heauy, and I know not why, But cruell fate doth sommon me to die, Cato. Sweet Brute, let not thy words be ominous signes, Of so mis-fortunnate and sad euent, Heauen and our Vallour shall vs conquerours make. Cassi. What Bastard feare hath taunted our dead hearts, Or what vnglorious vnwounted thought, 2240 Hath changed the vallour of our daunted mindes. What are our armes growne weaker then they were? Cannot this hand that was proud Caesars death, Send all Caesarians headlong that same path? Looke how our troups in Sun-bright armes do shine, With vaunting plumes and dreadfull brauery. The wrathful steedes do check their iron bits, And with a well grac'd terror strike the ground, And keeping times in warres sad harmony. And then hath Brutus any cause to feare, 2250 My selfe like valiant Peleus worthy Sonne, The Noblest wight that eur Troy beheld, Shall of the aduerse troopes such hauock make, As sad Phillipi shall in blood bewayle, The cruell massacre of Cassius sword, And then hath Brutus any cause to feare? Bru. No outward shewes of puissance or of strength, Can helpe a minde dismayed inwardly, Leaue me sweete Lordes a while vnto my selfe. Cassi. In the meane time take order for the fight, 2260 Drums let your fearefull mazing thunder playe. And with their sound peirce Heauens brazen Towers, And all the earth fill with like fearefull noyse, As when that Boreas from his Iron caue. With boysterous furyes Striuing in the waues, Comes swelling forth to meet his blustering foe, They both doe runne with feerce tempestuous rage, And heaues vp mountaynes of the watry waues. The God Oceanus trembles at the stroke, Bru. What hatefull furyes vex my tortured mind? 2270 What hideous sightes appalle my greeued soule, As when Orestes after mother slaine. Not being yet at Scithians Alters purged, Behould the greesly visages of fiends. And gastly furies which did haunt his steps, Caesar vpbraues my sad ingratitude, He saued my life in sad Pharsalian fieldes, That I in Senate house might worke his death. O this remembrance now doth wound my soule, More then my poniard did his bleeding heart, 2280

Enter Ghost.

Gho. Brutus, ingratefull Brutus seest thou mee: Anon In field againe thou shalt me see, Bru. Stay what so ere thou art, or fiend below, Rays'd from the deepe by inchanters bloody call, Or fury sent from Phlegitonticke flames, Or from Cocytus for to end my life, Be then Megera or Tysiphone, Or of Eumenides ill boading crue. Fly me not now, but end my wretched life, 2290 Comegreesly messenger of sad mishap, Trample in blood of him that hates to liue, And end my life and sorrow all at once. Gho. Accursed traytor damned Homicide, Knowest thou not me, to whome for forty honors: Thou three and twenty Gastly wounds didst giue? Now dare no more for to behould the Heauens, For they to Day haue destyned thine end: Nor lift thy eyes vnto the rising sunne, That nere shall liue for to behould it set, 2300 Nor looke not downe vnto the Hellish shades, There stand the furyes thursting for thy blood, Flie to the field but if thou thither go'st, There Anthonyes sword will peirce thy trayterous heart. Brutus to daie my blood shalbe reuenged, And for my wrong and vndeserued death, Thy life to thee a torture shall become, And thou shalt oft amongest the dying grones, Of slaughtered men that bite the bleeding earth. Wish that like balefull cheere might thee befall, 2310 And seeke for death that flies so wretched wight, Vntill to shunne the honour of the fight, And dreadfull vengeance of supernall ire. Thine owne right hand shall worke my wish'd reueng, And so Fare ill, hated of Heauen and Men. Bru. Stay Caesar stay, protract my greife no longer, Rip vp my bowells glut thy thirsting throte, With pleasing blood of Caesars guilty heart: But see hee's gon, and yonder Murther stands: See how he poynts his knife vnto my hart. 2320 Althea raueth for her murthered Sonne, And weepes the deed that she her-selfe hath done: And Meleager would thou liuedst againe, But death must expiate. Altheas come. I, death the guerdon that my deeds deserue: The drums do thunder forth dismay and feare, And dismall triumphes found my fatall knell, Furyes I come to meete you all in Hell,

{SN Act V sc. ii}

Enter Cato wounded.

Cato. Bloodles and faynt; Cato yeelde vp thy breath; While strength and vigour in these armes remaynd, 2331 And made me able for to wield my sword, So long I fought; and sweet Rome for thy sake Fear'd not effusion of my blood to make. But now my strength and life doth fayle at once, My vigor leaues my could and feeble Ioynts, And I my sad soule, must power forth in blood. O vertue whome Phylosophy extols. Thou art no essence but a naked name, Bond-slaue to Fortune, weake, and of no power, 2340 To succor them which alwaies honourd thee: Witnesse my Fathers and mine owne sad death, Who for our country spent our latest breath: But oh the chaines of death do hold my toung, Mine eyes wax dim I faynt, I faynt, I die. O Heauens help Rome in this extremity.

{SN Act V sc. iii}

Cass. Where shall I goe to tell the saddest tale, That ere the Romane toung was forc'd to speake, Rome is ouerthrowne, and all that for her fought: This Sunne that now hath seen so many deaths, 2350 When from the Sea he heaued his cloudy head, Then both the armes full of hope and feare, Did waite the dreadfull trumpets fatall sound, And straight Reuenge from Stygian bands let loose, Possessed had all hearts and banished thence, Feare of their children, wife and little home. Countryes remembrance, and had quite expeld, With last departed care of life it selfe: Anger did sparkell from our beautious eyes, Our trembling feare did make our helmes to shake, 2360 The horse had now put on the riders wrath, And with his hoofes did strike the trembling earth, When Echalarian soundes then both gin meete: Both like enraged, and now the dust gins rise, And Earth doth emulate the Heauens cloudes, Then yet beutyous was the face of cruell war: And goodly terror it might seeme to be, Faire shieldes, gay swords, and goulden crests did shine. Their spangled plumes did dance for Iolity, As nothing priuy to their Masters feare, 2370 But quickly rage and cruell Mars had staynd, This shining glory with a sadder hew, A cloud of dartes that darkened Heauens light, Horror insteed of beauty did suceede. And her bright armes with dust and blood were foyld: Now Lucius fals, heare Drusus takes his end, Here lies Hortensius, weltring in his goare. Here, there, and euery where men fall and die, Yet Cassius shew not that thy heart doth faynt: But to the last gasp for Romains freedom fight, 2380 And when sad death shall be thy labors end, Yet boast thy life thou didst for Country spend.

{SN Act V sc. iv}

Enter Anthony.

Ant. Queene of Reuenge imperious Nemesis, That in the wrinkels of thine angry browes, Wrapst dreadfull vengance and pale fright-full death: Raine downe the bloudy showers of thy reuenge, And make our swordes the fatall instruments, To execute thy furious bale-full Ire, Let grim death seate her on my Lances point, 2390 Which percing the weake armour of my foes, Shall lodge her there within there coward brestes, Dread, horror, vengance, death, and bloudy hate: In this sad fight my murthering sworde awaite. Exit

{SN Act V sc. v}

Enter Titinnius.

Titin. Where may I flie from this accursed soyle, Or shunne the horror of this dismall day: The Heauens are colour'd in mourning sable weedes, The Sunne doth hide his face, and feares to see, This bloudy conflict; sad Catastrophe, 2400 Nothing but grones of dying men are heard: Nothing but bloud and slaughter may bee seene And death, the same in sundry shapes araied.

Enter Cassius.

Casi. In vaine, in vaine, O Cassius all in vaine, Tis Heauen and destiny thou striuest against. Titin. VVhat better hope or more accepted tydinges, Ist Noble Cassius from the Battell bringes? Cassi. This haples hope that fates decreed haue, Philippi field must bee our haples graue. 2410 Titin. And then must this accurs'd and fatall day, End both our liues and Romane liberty: Must now the name of freedome bee forgot, And all Romes glory in Thessalia end? Casi. As those that lost in boysterous troublous seas, Beaten with rage of Billowes stormy strife: And without starres do sayle 'gainst starres and winde. In drery darkenesse and in chereles night, Without or hope or comfort endles are: So are my thoughts deiected with dismay, 2420 Which can nought looke for but poore Romes decay. But yet did Brutus liue, did hee but breath? Or lay not slumbering in eternall night, His welfare might infuse some hope, or life: Or at the least bring death with more content: Weried I am through labour of the fight: Then sweete Titinnius, range thou through the fielde, And either glad me with my friends successe, Or quickly tell mee what my care doth feare: How breathles hee vpon the ground doth lie, 2430 That at thy words, I may fall downe and die. Titin. Cassius, I goe to seeke thy Noble friend, Heauen grant my goings haue a prosperous end. Cassi. O go Titinnius, and till thy returne, Heere will I sit disconsolate alone, Romes sad mishap, and mine owne woes to moone: O ten times treble fortunate were you, VVhich in Pharsalias bloudy conflict dyed, VVith those braue Lords, now layed in bed of fame: VVhich neere protected their most blessed dayes, 2440 To see the horror of this dismall fight, VVhy died I not in those AEmathian playnes, VVhere great Domitius fell by Caesars hand? And swift Eurypus downe his bloudy streame Bare shieldes and helmes and traines of slaughter'd men, But Heauens reserud mee to this luckles day, To see my Countries fall and friends decay. But why doth not Titinnius yet returne? My trembling heart misgiues me what's befalne, Brutus is dead: I: herke how willingly 2450 The Ecco itterates those deadly words, The whisling windes with their mourning sound Do fill mine eares with noyse of Brutus death, The birdes now chanting a more cheerles lay, In dolefull notes recorde my friends decay. And Philomela now forgets old wronges, And onely Brutus wayleth in her songes. I heare some noyse, O tis Titinnius, No tis not hee, for hee doth feare to wound, My greeued eares with that hearts-thrilling sound. 2460 Why dost thou feed my thoughts with lingering hope? Why dost thou then prolong my life in vayne? Tell me my sentence and so end my payne: He comes not yet, nor yet, nor will at all, Linger not Cassius for to heare reply, What if he come and tels me hee is slayne? That only will increase my dying paine, Brutus I come to company thy soule, Which by Cocytus wandreth all alone. Brutus I come prepare to meete thy friend 2470 Thy Brothers fall procures this balefull end.

Enter Titinius.

Titi. Brutus doth liue and like a second Mars, Rageth in heate of fury mongest his foes, Then cheere thee Cassius, loe I bring releefe. And news of power to ease thy stormy greefe, But see where Cassius weltreth in his blood, Doth beate the Earth, and yet not fully dead. O Cassius speake, O speake to me sweet friend, Brutus doth liue; open thy dying eyes, 2480 And looke on him that hope and comfort rings. O noe, hee will not looke on mee but cryes, That by my long delayes he haples dies: Accursed villaine murtherer of thy friend, Why hath thy lingering thus wrought Cassius end, How cold thy care was to preuent this deed, How slow thy loue that made no greater speed, Care winged is, and burning loue can flye, My care was feareles, loue but flattery, But sithence in my life my loue was neuer shewne, 2490 Now in my death Ile make it to be knowne. Accursed weapon that such blood could spil, Nay cursed then the author of this deed, Yet both offended, both shall punished be, Ile take reueng of the knife, the knife of me, It shall make a passage for my life to passe, Cause through my life his master murthered was. And I on it againe will venged bee. Cause it did worke my Cassius tragedy. Then this reueng shalbe to end my life. 2500 Mine to distayne with baser blood the knife.

Enter Brutus the Ghost following him.

Bru. What doest thou still persue me vgly fend, Is this it that thou thirsted for so much? Come with thy tearing clawes and rend it out, Would thy appeaseles rage be slacked with blood, This sword to day hath crimsen channels made, But heare's the blood that thou woulds drinke so fayne, Then take this percer, broch this trayterous heart. Or if thou thinkest death to small a payne, 2510 Drag downe this body to proud Erebus, Through black Cocytus and infernall Styx, Lethean waues, and fiers of Phlegeton, Boyle me or burne, teare my hatefull flesh, Deuoure, consume, pull, pinch, plague, paine this hart, Hell craues her right, and heere the furyes stand, And all the hell-hounds compasse me a round Each seeking for a parte of this same prey, Alasse this body is leane, thin, pale and wan, Nor can it all your hungery mouthes suffice, 2520 O tis the soule that they stand gaping for, And cndlesse matter for to prey vpon. Renewed still as Titius pricked heart. Then clap your hands, let Hell with Ioy resound? Here it comes flying through this aery round. Gho. Hell take their hearts, that this ill deed haue done And vengeance follow till they be ouercome: Nor liue t'applaud the iustice of this deed. Murther by her owne guilty hand doth bleed.

Enter Discord.

Dis. I, now my longing hopes haue their desire, 2531 The world is nothing but a massie heape: Of bodys slayne, The Sea a lake of blood, The Furies that for slaughter only thirst, Are with these Massakers and slaughters cloyde, Tysiphones pale, and Megeras thin face, Is now puft vp, and swolne with quaffing blood, Caron that vsed but an old rotten boate Must nowe a nauie rigg for to transport, The howling soules, vnto the Stigian stronde. 2540 Hell and Elisium must be digd in one, And both will be to litle to contayne, Numberles numbers of afflicted ghostes, That I my selfe haue tumbling thither sent. Gho. Now nights pale daughter since thy bloody ioyes, And my reuengfull thirst fulfilled are, Doe thou applaud what iustly heauens haue wrought, While murther on the murtherers head is brought. Dis. Caesar I pitied not thy Tragick end: Nor tyrants daggers sticking in thy heart, 2550 Nor doe I that thy deaths with like repayd, But that thy death so many deaths hath made: Now cloyde with blood, Ile hye me downe below, And laugh to thinke I caused such endlesse woe. Gho. Sith my reueng is full accomplished, And my deaths causers by them selues are slaine, I will descend to mine eternall home, Where euerlastingly my quiet soule, The sweete Elysium pleasure shall inioy, And walke those fragrant flowry fields at rest: 2560 To which nor fayre Adonis bower so rare, Nor old Alcinous gardens may compare. There that same gentle father of the spring, Mild Zephirus doth Odours breath diuine: Clothing the earth in painted brauery, The which nor winters rage, nor Scorching heate, Or Summers sunne can make it fall or fade, There with the mighty champions of old time, And great Heroes of the Goulden age, My dateles houres Ile spend in lasting ioy.

FINIS.