Act V, Scene i: The plains of Philippi.
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Now, Antony, our hopes are answered. | |
| | You said the enemy would not come down, | |
| | But keep the hills and upper regions: | |
| | It proves not so; their battles are at hand: | |
| | They mean to warn us at Philippi here, | |
| | Answering before we do demand of them. | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know | |
| | Wherefore they do it: they could be content | |
| | To visit other places; and come down | |
| | With fearful bravery, thinking by this face | |
| | To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage; | |
| | But 'tis not so. | |
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| | MESSENGER: | |
| | Prepare you, generals: | |
| | The enemy comes on in gallant show; | |
| | Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, | |
| | And something to be done immediately. | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | Octavius, lead your battle softly on, | |
| | Upon the left hand of the even field. | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Upon the right hand I; keep thou the left. | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | Why do you cross me in this exigent? | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | I do not cross you; but I will do so. | |
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[March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army;Lucilius, Titinius, Messala, and Others.]
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | They stand, and would have parley. | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Stand fast, Titinius: we must out and talk. | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle? | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. | |
| | Make forth; the generals would have some words. | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Stir not until the signal. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Words before blows: is it so, countrymen? | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Not that we love words better, as you do. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius. | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words: | |
| | Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart, | |
| | Crying, "Long live! Hail, Caesar!" | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Antony, | |
| | The posture of your blows are yet unknown; | |
| | But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, | |
| | And leave them honeyless. | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | Not stingless too. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | O, yes, and soundless too, | |
| | For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony, | |
| | And very wisely threat before you sting. | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | Villains, you did not so when your vile daggers | |
| | Hack'd one another in the sides of Caesar: | |
| | You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds, | |
| | And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet; | |
| | Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind | |
| | Struck Caesar on the neck. O flatterers! | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Flatterers!—Now, Brutus, thank yourself: | |
| | This tongue had not offended so to-day, | |
| | If Cassius might have ruled. | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Come, come, the cause: if arguing makes us sweat, | |
| | The proof of it will turn to redder drops. | |
| | Look,— | |
| | I draw a sword against conspirators: | |
| | When think you that the sword goes up again? | |
| | Never, till Caesar's three and thirty wounds | |
| | Be well avenged; or till another Caesar | |
| | Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands, | |
| | Unless thou bring'st them with thee. | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | So I hope; | |
| | I was not born to die on Brutus' sword. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, | |
| | Young man, thou couldst not die more honourably. | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | A peevish school boy, worthless of such honour, | |
| | Join'd with a masker and a reveller! | |
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| | ANTONY: | |
| | Old Cassius still! | |
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| | OCTAVIUS: | |
| | Come, Antony; away!— | |
| | Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth: | |
| | If you dare fight today, come to the field; | |
| | If not, when you have stomachs. | |
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[Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their Army.]
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Why, now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark! | |
| | The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Ho, Lucilius! Hark, a word with you. | |
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[Brutus and Lucilius talk apart.]
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| | MESSALA: | |
| | What says my General? | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Messala, | |
| | This is my birth-day; as this very day | |
| | Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala: | |
| | Be thou my witness that against my will, | |
| | As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set | |
| | Upon one battle all our liberties. | |
| | You know that I held Epicurus strong, | |
| | And his opinion: now I change my mind, | |
| | And partly credit things that do presage. | |
| | Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign | |
| | Two mighty eagles fell; and there they perch'd, | |
| | Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands; | |
| | Who to Philippi here consorted us: | |
| | This morning are they fled away and gone; | |
| | And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites | |
| | Fly o'er our heads and downward look on us, | |
| | As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem | |
| | A canopy most fatal, under which | |
| | Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | I but believe it partly; | |
| | For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved | |
| | To meet all perils very constantly. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Even so, Lucilius. | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Now, most noble Brutus, | |
| | The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may, | |
| | Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age! | |
| | But, since th' affairs of men rest still incertain, | |
| | Let's reason with the worst that may befall. | |
| | If we do lose this battle, then is this | |
| | The very last time we shall speak together: | |
| | What are you then determined to do? | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Even by the rule of that philosophy | |
| | By which I did blame Cato for the death | |
| | Which he did give himself;—I know not how, | |
| | But I do find it cowardly and vile, | |
| | For fear of what might fall, so to prevent | |
| | The time of life;—arming myself with patience | |
| | To stay the providence of some high powers | |
| | That govern us below. | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | Then, if we lose this battle, | |
| | You are contented to be led in triumph | |
| | Thorough the streets of Rome? | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman, | |
| | That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome; | |
| | He bears too great a mind. But this same day | |
| | Must end that work the Ides of March begun; | |
| | And whether we shall meet again I know not. | |
| | Therefore our everlasting farewell take: | |
| | For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius! | |
| | If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; | |
| | If not, why, then this parting was well made. | |
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| | CASSIUS: | |
| | For ever and for ever farewell, Brutus! | |
| | If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed; | |
| | If not, 'tis true this parting was well made. | |
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| | BRUTUS: | |
| | Why then, lead on. O, that a man might know | |
| | The end of this day's business ere it come! | |
| | But it sufficeth that the day will end, | |
| | And then the end is known.—Come, ho! away! | |
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