University of Virginia Library

THE TRAGEDY OF MARCUS BRUTUS.

With the Prologue, and the Two last Chorus's.

PROLOGUE. By the AUTHOR.

Dramatis Personæ.

• M. Brutus.
• C. Cassius.
• Lucilius, Friend of Brutus.
• Titinius, Friend of Cassius.
• Pindarus, Freedman of Cassius.
• Varius, A Young Roman bred at Athens.
• Theodotus, A Philospher.
• M. Antonius, The Triumvir.
• Dolabella, Friend of M. Antonius.
• Junia, Wife of Cassius, and Sister of Brutus.
• Magistrates of Athens.
• Centurions.
• Officers.
• Soldeirs.

The Play begins the Day before the Battle of Philippi, and ends with it.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A Vestibule in Athens.
Enter Lucilius and Varius.
Lucilius.
Express upon Express arrives from Rome.
Their Veneration for most noble Brutus
Is now reviv'd, and makes all mourn his Absence.

Varius.
But yet some threaten to destroy us here,
For giving Shelter to that worthy Roman:
What means this Contradiction?

Lucilius.
I'll inform you.
Our Empire groan'd beneath the Pow'r of Cæsar;
A Man so fam'd for Clemency and Courage,
(Qualities charming ev'n in Enemies)
That none, tho' virtuous, could resolve to act
A bold and noble Deed, which all Men wish'd.

Varius.
You mean the Death of Cæsar. Pray go on.

Lucilius.
At length, a Man of all the World inclin'd
The least to Violence, or any Passion;
A Man sublimely wise, exactly just—

Varius.
After this Character, you need not name him

Lucilius.
Brutus, the Head of all those noble Spirits
Who shine at Rome, and rule the under World,
Selects the very choicest of them all,
And fells the Tyrant in the very Senate.

Varius.
This Deed of Brutus seems the Will of Heav'n.

Lucilius.
And so accounted for his wond'rous Virtue.
The Soldiers, Senators, and common People,
(If among Romans they can be so call'd)
Ev'n the best Friends of Cæsar follow'd Brutus,
As the avow'd Deliv'rer of his Country:
Till his soft Nature, and his gen'rous Spirit,
Resign'd the Corps to be interr'd with Honour.

Varius.
That made this fatal Change, as we are told.

Lucilius.
Most true, in those that heard the fam'd Oration.
What is it Eloquence cannot persuade?
Reason itself comes over to its Side.
Thus Antony, soon as his Speech was ended,
Rais'd in that Heat so great a Rage against us,
As forc'd ev'n Friends to act the Part of Foes:
Yet now the Wise repent, and rev'rence Athens
For thus supporting the most worthy Brutus.

Varius.
The Roads from Rome are fill'd by valiant Crouds,
Who fly from Safety, to partake our Danger.

Lucilius.
No Wonder: since Virtue has ever fix'd
Kind Correspondence between Rome and Athens.
The Youth of Rome, and all whom Rome has conquer'd,
Hither repair to learn Philosophy.
Chief among these, you (Son of famous Tully)
Advis'd no doubt by your illustrious Father,
Invited Brutus and his Brother Cassius
To make great Athens Centre of the War.

Varius.
And she has own'd your Cause in ample manner.
Armies are levy'd, and vast Sums are rais'd,
In the Defence of Roman Liberty.

Lucilius.
Oh! noble Efforts of republick Spirit!
Why this is being Friends to Human-kind;
Which, next to Heav'n, is most oblig'd to those
Who rescue Liberty from vile Oppression.

Varius.
Our ancient Heroes thus grew Gods themselves:
Besides, 'tis in a manner Self-defence
To help in neighb'ring Dangers; for it hinders
Future Incroachments on ourselves at home.

Lucilius.
Of that, Athenians are almost too jealous:
Ev'n with Ingratitude they crush Ambition,
And banish Merit, when the least aspiring,

Varius.
Most wisely do they act, nay justly too:
For we reward a Leader's Service best,
In barring him the Means of doing Mischief.
Happier, much happier had it been for Cæsar,
Had he been banish'd, while yet innocent,
Than e'er return'd triumphant o'er his Country.

SCENE II.

Enter Dolabella, pulling off his Disguise.
Lucilius.
What! Dolabella here?

Dolabella.
A Friend to Varius,
Sent by Antonius in most secret manner,
To ask an Interview of noble Brutus,
Before the Soldier joins in bloody Battle.
Who knows but each great Chief may grow more kind,
In Sight of wond'ring Armies may embrace,
And Rome shall smile at their returning Friends?

[Exit Lucilius.
Varius.
And can you think that Brutus slew great Julius,
To suffer Tyranny in other Hands?

Dolabella.
Alas! that Tyranny is but a Word,
Us'd only by us when we hate our Ruler.
Have we not found (you'll pardon me, good Varius)
That ev'n this Change you call Deliverance
Has but remov'd one Hardship for a greater,
A single Grievance for a Civil War?

Varius.
What do I hear! Is any Grievance equal
To that most abject State of being Subjects
To Will, to Passion, or to lawless Humour?

Dolabella.
Yet these Expressions shew 'tis not mere ruling,
But ruling ill, you fear. When Prudence sways,
'Tis Happiness, not Slav'ry, to be govern'd.
To bless our Times with Plenty, and with Pleasures,
Prevent Disorders, and promote Diversions,
Hinder us all from hurting one another,
Take all the Cares, and leave us all the Joys,
Can only be accomplish'd by great Power,
When plac'd in such a Man as God-like Brutus.

Varius.
Where is Content or Pleasure under Force?
The Freedom of Man's Will not Heav'n constrains:
Who wants it, and endures it, is a Brute.
Yet put the Case some Phœnix Prince should reign,
A Vultur might succeed; a Son, or Brother,
Who will undo in a few Months of Folly,
(For short will be his Regin, tho' seeming long)
Whate'er the Wise had been whole Years contriving.
Like Brutus, did you say? A Man like Brutus
No more would be a Sov'reign, than a Slave:
A Man so virtuous, and so wise, well knows
'Tis better much to bear than do a Hardship.

Dolabella.
What Hardship's done by acting for Mens Good?

Varius.
What Good can come from arbitrary Sway?
The choicest Fare, forc'd down, will cloy the Stomach.
But here he comes himself to hear your Message:
At once the humblest and the highest Mind
That ever shin'd in all our Roman Story!

[Exit Varius.

SCENE III.

Enter Brutus.
Brutus.
A Message from Antonius claims a Hearing,
Whom, tho' my Enemy, I still esteem.

Dolabella.
His boldest Wishes aim at nothing higher;
And therefore thus assures most noble Brutus,
That what he has done was by Nature forc'd,
From his fresh Sorrow for his slaughter'd Friend;
But now his bleeding Country moves him more,
And his Soul shakes at Sight of Civil War.
Secure him but by taking Sov'reign Pow'r,
To you alone he joins with all his Force.

Brutus.
And I abandon Cassius, and my Friends!

Dolabella.
Far be it from me to propose such Baseness.
May they, and we, be happy under you,
And the whole World once govern'd by the Virtuous.

Brutus.
Ah! Dolabella, little do you know
The Mind of Brutus. When I slew your Cæsar,
Think you it was Ambition? Jove is Witness,
I would have crown'd him rather than myself.
But Rome claim'd Freedom, tho' by Cæsar's Death;
Tho' by Destruction of my dearest Friend:
And free she shall be still, if I prevail.
Antonius joining in that glorious Work,
May claim whate'er a Commonwealth can give:
Nay, I will be his Soldier in her Service.
Then, neither he nor we shall longer strive,
But only who shall serve his Country best.

Dolabella.
Will you then rather see the World in Arms,
Than govern it yourself to make it happy?

Brutus.
May the great Gods destroy that World and me,
If e'er I suffer Rome to be enslav'd!
Rome, that has toil'd for Fame so many Ages,
By Valour, and by Virtue tam'd Mankind,
Soften'd rude Minds, and in the wildest Soils
Establish'd Manners and Humanity;
And, cultivating Youth with strictest Care,
First taught Urbanity, that useful Art
Of being most politely sociable;
(A Virtue scarce known in the World beside,
And chiefly owing to our Liberty)
Gods! shall all this sink into mean Submission?
Which in a Moment would debase our Souls,
Like those in wretched Governments around us.

Dolabella.
But yet Submission seems design'd by Nature:
Why, else, has she bestow'd such diff'rent Talents?
Some, like your own, with Worth, and Skill to govern;
And Thousands only fitted to obey.

Brutus.
As well you might imagine harmless Sheep
Only created for the rav'nous Wolf.

Dolabella.
But is Man blameable for mast'ring both?

Brutus.
No; for those Beasts are of inferior Rank:
But where does Nature, or the Will of Heav'n,
Subject a Creature to one like itself?
Man is the only Brute enslaves his Kind.

Dolabella.
'Tis not the Shape, but Soul, that shews the Likeness:
Is a mere Changeling like a Man of Prudence?

Brutus.
A Man of Prudence never will at once
Make both himself and all the World unhappy.
Think you that 'tis for Envy Kings are hated?
Pity would rather plead in their Defence,
Did we not more compassionate their Subjects.
Alas! they scarce have one contented Hour;
Few to confide in, and whole Crowds to fear;
Asham'd to rule so many wiser Subjects,
Yet often sway'd by weaker than themselves.

Dolabella.
All this were reconcil'd, if Brutus govern'd;
Freedom and Empire might consist together:
Yourself would be the only Man uneasy;
Which, for the sake of all, you will not grudge.

Brutus.
If there were Colour for so vile a Change,
Or the least Pleasure in the greatest Power;
Yet I abhor what I disdain to hear.
Return in Safety back, but tell Antonius,
My highest Wish is to fix Rome in Freedom;
My next, to die before she is enslav'd.

[Exit Dolabella; manet Brutus.

SCENE IV.

Enter Varius and Lucilius.
Varius.
The Areopagite Council long have sat,
To do great Brutus some unwonted Honour.
Some voted to renew th' Olympick Games,
Others with Plays would crowd the Theatres;
But these were held Diversions too divine,
And only consecrated to the Gods.
At last, the wisest and most famous Senate,
In Love to you, in Service to the Publick,
In Veneration for superior Virtue,
Resolves to rear your Statue carv'd by Samius,
That greatest Artist, for the best of Men;
And place it in the sacred Temple, next
Harmonius and Aristogiton,
Those worthy Patriots of learned Athens.

Lucilius.
How many Ages hence shall Wealth of Princes
Vie for these dear Remains, so doubly famous,
Both for the Work, and him it represents!

Brutus.
Was ever Honour from so wise a People
Design'd so kindly, yet bestow'd so ill?
I am not only destitute of Merit,
But of Ambition, more than to do Good.
Fame's only due for Deeds beyond our Duty;
Who can do those in Service of his Country?
The Romans, and ev'n Cassius, may repine
At such a partial Proof of their Affection.
Advise me how to shun it with Respect.

Varius.
You should not, cannot now, without Affront.
No mean Assembly this, such as proceeds
In Shew for publick Good, with private Aim;
Sluggish to meet, yet hasty to resolve.
These, in safe Methods, and with prudent Steps,
Encourage Vittue, and uphold their Country.

SCENE V.

Enter Cassius.
Cassius.
I greet my Friend on this new Compliment;
Which, in your Name, shews a Respect to all.
The Death of Cæsar is a common Cause,
Which Commonwealths in Prudence must approve.

Brutus.
True, noble Cassius; and I never would
Accept an Honour sep'rate from my Friends.
Brutus has nothing in his Life or Humour
Suited to this unprecedented Honour.

Cassius,
Methinks you now esteem yourself too little,
Only to prize this Compliment too much.

Brutus.
A Statue rear'd to me, and rear'd by Athens,
I own a most transcendent Obligation;
But ev'ry Sum and Soldier they have rais'd
In Aid of Liberty, affects me more.

Cassius.
I ever thought a Roman General
Above Reward from an Athenian Senate.
What is a Trifle then giv'n by Grey-beards,
Mov'd by a little Popularity?

Brutus.
But, to be mov'd by Envy, sure, is worse.

Cassius.
I did not envy Cæsar, tho' I slew him.

Brutus.
An honest Mind can envy no Usurper;
You said you kill'd him for the Publick Good.

Cassius.
You know I kill'd him for the Publick Good:
Who doubts it, does me wrong.

Brutus.
Do none yourself.
What! shall we two, the Champions of Freedom,
Like Children, grudge at one another's Play-things?
Come, we are Friends. But think not I am fond [Embraces him.

Of airy Trifles, tho' I value Fame.
Fame for good Deeds is the Reward of Virtue.
Thirst after Fame is giv'n us by the Gods,
Both to excite our Minds to noble Acts,
And give a Proof of some immortal State,
Where we shall know, that Fame we leave behind,
That highest Blessing which the Gods bestow.

Cassius.
But 'tis a greater not to need their Blessings.
You Stoicks hold a wise Man is above them.

Brutus.
Yet not insensible to Reputation.
For that he slights all Torments, ev'n Disgrace;
Nay, what is harder yet, despises Pleasure;
A Strength of Mind which only Man possesses.

Cassius.
I see no such Distinction, nor wherein
Man so transcends, except in Arrogance.
This great Superiority of Man
Often comes short ev'n of the meanest Creatures:
They in their ways more happily confin'd,
Seem not to scorn, or bear down one another;
Never ungrateful, or the least deceiving,
But keep wise Nature's Laws with strict Obedience.
Oh happy for the World, if in these Times
Mankind in gen'ral were no worse than Brutes!

Brutus.
Ill Men, indeed, I must confess, are worse.

Cassius.
And sure the worst of all, their Country's Enemies.
These should be censur'd by our rev'rend Priests,
Who always raise our Thoughts to things above,
But yet connive at Villainy below.

Brutus.
From hence the Miseries of Rome proceed.
When Fraud, Oppression, foulest Calumny,
Contempt of Laws, and bold Impieties,
Appear bare-fac'd; no Auguries more sure
Foretel the Ruin of a sinking State.

Cassius.
No Auguries! What do they e'er foretel,
But as the Politician bribes the Priest?
Mere Combination against common Sense.

Brutus.
You'll have your way. But do you not remember
That Soothsayer who said, the Ides of March
Were come, not gone?

Cassius.
And that was all he knew:
Had he known more, why did he not inform?

Brutus.
The Gods decreed that Rome should be deliver'd.

Varius.
That devout Thought revives our sinking Hopes;
Heav'n will not fail a Cause it once has blest.

Cassius.
But trust not all to that; let us be careful.
When you shall march To-morrow after me,
Should we not leave some Forces here behind?

Brutus.
For what?

Cassius.
To keep these People firmly to us.
They, who at Rome command an Empire's Wealth,
Have dangerous Temptations of seducing.

Varius.
Oh never fear it. Shake Athenian Faith?
'Tis stopping Tides, or striving with the Winds.

Brutus.
They are too learn'd, and prudent, not to know
That 'tis the greatest Folly to be false;
Not worth a Villainy to gain the World
A low mean Act so rankles in the Mind,
There is no Joy, nor Quiet afterwards;
Kind Heav'n has form'd us so, that we might find
Content and Honesty still join'd together.

Cassius.
But, then we are the more oblig'd to guard 'em
Against what they might suffer for our sakes.

Brutus.
Kindly, and justly urg'd, I must confess.
But think you, that our Enemies can spare
The smallest Legion from opposing us?
Detaching some, may be their Loss of all.
Yet, for this Place I am concern'd so much,
You shake my Reason when you urge their Danger.
Let them propose what Guards themselves desire.

Cassius.
Nay, there I differ; since in War-affairs,
With all their Wit, they cannot judge so well:
Nor is it fit they judge in their own Cause.
I'll strait assemble them, and then debate
With calm Deliberation this Affair;
Which well deserves our speediest Management,
Since we are forc'd to march away so soon.
You'll come, I hope, and fix our Resolution.

[Exit Cassius.
Brutus.
This Man has some Uneasiness of Temper,
But over-balanc'd by his publick Spirit,
Which ever sways him to his Country's Good.
Whate'er our Master Zeno may have taught us,
Nothing is wholly perfect here below:
We should applaud the Merit that we find,
And cast a friendly Veil on good Mens Faults.
My Sister Junia loves him to Excess
(If there can be Excess in Love, or Friendship).
Go, and acquaint her gently with the Journey
Which he must take this Night towards Philippi,
There to decide th'important Fate of Rome. [Exit Lucilius.

I must prepare the Forces under me,
To overtake him on his March to-morrow:
From thence we'll haste conjointly to the Battle:
This scanty Road bears us not both together;
And we must once divide, to part no more.

[Exeunt. Brutus, and Varius.

Of Athenian Philosophers. Written at the Command of his Grace, by Mr. POPE.

First CHORUS.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The same Vestibule.
Enter Varius, with Titinius newly arriv'd at Athens.
Titinius.
What mean these sumptuous Preparations?
Is this a Time for either Pomp or Pleasure?
When two, the best and boldest Sons of Rome,
The justest Cause too that was e'er defended,
Are on the very Brink of their Destruction.

Varius.
O wrong not sacred Athens, Sir, the Nurse,
The Mother of all Arts and Sciences:
Has she spread Wit and Learning thro' the World,
Nay soften'd Rome herself (but rough before)
To Arts, to Eloquence, and gentler Manners,
And is she now upbraided?

Titinius.
Fallacious Eloquence, and useless Arts!
I own her Learning; but that Polishing
Has but too much weaken'd our harder Steel.
Our ancient, rough, and manly Worth now bends
At the hard Touch of Perils and of Toils.
Our Gold is melted to a finer Shape,
But mix'd with Dross of Flatt'ry and Corruption.
How else could Brutus be a banish'd Man?
Or how could Liberty fly here for Refuge?

Varius.
And whither should it fly, if not to Athens?
The School of all Philosophy and Virtue.
Our publick Recreations here are sacred:
This Day th'Athenians, ever true to Virtue,
In this low Ebb, in spite of pow'rful Rome,
Have kept their Custom, tho' against their Safety,
And consecrated Sports for your Success.

Titinius.
Is't possible? Pardon a Stranger's Error,
Newly arriv'd with Succours from afar,
Sent from the Gods, I think: for 'tis their Cause;
And unknown Regions have espous'd our Quarrel.

Varius.
The Sports are just beginning; I have Time
Only to let you know these are not Trifles,
Or such as are in Nations loose of Manners;
But solemn Celebrations to the Gods,
With pious Hymns imploring their Protection.
Wise Athens ever has indulg'd Diversions
With more Magnificence than greatest Princes:
But they are all dispos'd in Praise of Virtue,
Inspiring Courage, Generosity,
And most of all, Affection to their Country.
How think you now, Titinius?

Titinius.
I recant,
And grow myself impatient for your Pleasures.

SCENE II.

The Scene opens, and discovers the magnificent Temple of Bacchus, where the publick Entertainments were wont to be celebrated at Athens. The Statue of Brutus being this Day erected, is supposed to be the Occasion of these Solemnities, and must appear in the furthermost part of the Stage.
After the Shews and Songs are over, Brutus, Lucilius, Titinius, and Varius remain on the Stage.
Lucilius.
By these refin'd Diversions, we perceive
This Town retains its old Magnificence.
No wondet Atticus, so nice a Judge.
When he retir'd, preferr'd this Place to all.

Varius.
Philosophy is highly'st honour'd here;
And from that Fountain of superior Wisdom
Flows all this Stream of Arts and Sciences.

Brutus.
Here Poetry, harmoniously divine,
Is most transporting, thus accompany'd
With artful Paintings, and melodious Sounds.
The Muses join in all Athenian Pleasures.

Varius.
But that which has occasion'd these Delights,
Gives the true Taste to all; your matchless Merit.

Brutus.
Hold, Varius; too much has been said already
In Compliment: and I receive it only
As Honour done me for Rome's sake, not mine.
So Prizes, taken but by vulgar Hands,
Are brought in Triumph to the Capitol.

Lucilius.
Yet then, we know, that Leader justly triumphs,
Under whose Conduct those rich Spoils are gain'd.

Brutus.
But were our Conduct equal to our Cause,
In which the noble Cassius and myself
Have here engag'd all Asia on our Side;
Yet the whole World deliver'd, must acknowledge
All owing to this gen'rous Commonwealth.

Varius.
Rome could not fail to find Support in Athens,
Her elder Sister, both in Arts and Arms,
And great Protectress of fair Liberty;
That Liberty to which she owes her Splendor.

Brutus.
Most truly noted: From whence ever came
Good Sense, or Learning, Arts of Peace, or War?
Deepness of Thought, or Nobleness of Nature?
Except where Liberty inlarg'd the Mind?

Varius.
The very Air of Freedom breeds great Souls,
Which Education ripens into Virtue.

Brutus.
And here inspires the usefullest of Virtues,
Tender Affection to our native Country.

Varius.
My Friends and near Relations, when I took
My tender Leave, after a thousand Counsels,
Assur'd me that their greatest Satisfaction
Was, that they sent me to this famous Place,
Where Wisdom, and where Virtue best are taught;
And own'd, when Romans write the most politely,
Their highest Praise is to have copy'd well.

Brutus.
Tully himself confesses Greece superior:
Yet he, of all our famous Wits of Rome,
Shines much the brightest.

Varius.
Such Applause from Brutus,
Is a Reward equal to all his Merit.

Titinius.
To be esteem'd by you, the greatest Kings
Here send their Legions, and have lent their Treasure.

Brutus.
And timely comes this Aid. Advice from Rome
Assures us, all their Force is on the March.

Varius.
I thought Dissension was among their Chiefs,
Each of them striving to set up himself.

Enter Cassius.
Cassius.
Just now is come most unexpected News;
Our Foes have forc'd their Gen'rals to be Friends,
And call'd it Civil War to fight in Quarrels
Between Octavius and Antony;
Yet think their War is lawful against us.

Titinius.
Alas! what Reas'ning can there be in Fools,
Who, bred in Faction, blindly join with Knaves?

Lucilius.
They are for Licence, not for Liberty;
And love those Gen'rals best, who lead to Mischief.

Brutus.
You have describ'd a State just ripe for Ruin.

Cassius.
Small Marches need they make, to meet a Foe
So eager as we are, to free our Country.
Oh the Delay is tiresome!

Brutus.
Yet have Patience;
With Vigour act, but think of all with Caution.

Cassius.
Our Rendezvous is settled at Philippi.

Brutus.
Thither you march To-night, and I To-morrow.
But Junia comes, I fear, to mourn your Absence.

[Exeunt. Manet Cassius.

SCENE III.

Enter Junia.
Junia.
Now, all the Gods that guard the Innocent,
Protect my Cassius! they are marching hither:
Ruin is rolling on us from afar.

Cassius.
Not hither, Junia; we shall spare their Pains;
Our Forces intercept their bold Presumption,
And I just now am making Haste to meet them.

Junia.
Come then, away; with you all Pains are easy;
I am this Moment ready for the Journey.

Cassius.
Ready, alas! you must not for this World
Share in the Shifts and Hazards I must run;
Virtue, like yours, here none will dare to harm;
And while you stay in Athens, I am easy;
My dear, and better Half, is out of Danger.

Junia.
And am I yet more wretched than I thought?
I had no Comfort left for your Misfortunes,
But that I was to share them ev'ry where:
And will you take that from me? O 'tis hard!
You would not, if you saw my sighing Heart.

Cassius.
And you should go, did I not doubt my own:
But 'tis so tender always towards you,
It shakes, alas! my firmest Resolutions.
I, like some skilful Swimmer in a Shipwreck,
Grasping his only Treasure in his Arms,
May, for thy sake, make too much Haste to Shore,
Leaving the Bark with all my Friends behind,
Your Sighs would blow away my best Resolves,
Soften my Soul, and slacken all its Strength.
When all's at stake, I eagerly may fix
My Mind on you, and never think beyond.

Junia.
Beyond! Why, is there any thing beyond
The dear, the charming Object of our Love?
Mere Thought of that is Height of Happiness.
What Image have we of Elysian Bowers,
But such a gentle, calm, contented State?
What has this Trifle of a World to do
With a blest Pair, who live embracing thus?

Cassius.
What says my Charmer? can I leave this Woman?
I could look thus, and languish here for ever.
Yet there's one Tye, more dear than Life, or Love;
'Tis Honour, and the sacred Good of Rome.
For these I kill'd the greatest Man on Earth,
Engag'd the best and noblest of Mankind
(And saying that, I need not name your Brother)
To stab his Friend, and his own Heart at once.
Since I have done all this, I must do more;
Leave Junia here, and all my Joys behind.

Junia.
Did I e'er think that Cassius would forsake me?

Cassius.
Forsake! I leave you as the richest Pledge
Which can be giv'n to this illustrious City.
That Rome itself can be no dearer to me,
Than friendly Athens for protecting you.

Junia.
Jewels we prize we seldom leave behind:
Oh take me with you! my officious Love
Perhaps may shield you from some sudden Danger,
Soften your angry and uneasy Hours,
And make Adversity itself seem pleasing.
My Love could do all this, if yours were equal.

[Weeps.
Cassius.
All this! nay more; what cannot Junia do?
Then, since I dare not hazard you in Armies,
I will stay here, and die within your Arms.

Junia.
You die! Oh Heav'n! the very Sound of that
Checks my Designs, and chills all my Desires.

Cassius.
Hast thou not heard, how hard ungrateful Rome
Pursues the Men who once deliver'd her,
And riots in the Blood of her Redeemers?
Two of our Band they have destroy'd already,
And vow to spare no Murderer of Cæsar;
That is to say, no Man that lov'd his Country,
Ruin'd himself, only to rescue her.

Junia.
Oh! I have talk'd too long: go on, make Haste;
I am not wont, alas! to use this Language,
But now I can say nothing else: Away;
No matter what becomes of me; away.

Cassius.
Your spotless Fame must always be your Guard,
Rudeness itself will reverence such Virtue.
I must immediately haste to our Friends,
Who all assembled in the Fields of Sardis,
Wait there for me and Brutus. He, To-morrow,
Shall follow, at the Head of mighty Numbers,
Rais'd only by the Credit of our Cause;
A Cause, well worthy of the World to succour!
Oh! while I languish out this long, long Absence,
Take care of all my Treasure, thy dear Self.

Junia.
Farewel! thou truest, kindest, best of Men!
But one Look more—and then a long Farewel
To all Content—all, till we meet again.

[Exit Cassius. Manet Junia.

SCENE IV.

Enter Varius.
Varius.
Junia in Tears! So shines an April Sun;
And so the precious Dew that drops on Flowers,
Steals down unheeded by the vulgar Eye:
But I admire this Master-pieee of Nature.

Junia.
Alas! my Lord, Cassius is gone to Sardis.

Varius.
Is't possible? So I was told before,
Yet never could believe it till this Moment.

Junia.
Why, was it not determin'd so in Council?

Varius.
I must confess it was debated there,
And wish'd by some, that all our Force at Sardis
Had some great Chief, for keeping martial Sway:
But who could hope that Cassius would be willing
To part from you, one Day, without Occasion?

Junia.
Is it so strange that Cassius should be forward
In all the Proofs of Courage, or of Conduct?

Varius.
His Fame forbids I should have such a Thought.
But yet—

Junia.
But what? I cannot guess your Meaning.

Varius.
Not all the noble Discipline of War,
Strict Rules of Conduct, Heat of martial Prowess,
The Faith of Friendship, or the Oaths of Leagues,
Not Fame itself, no nor the publick Good,
Deserve to be preferr'd to Junia's Love.

Junia.
But Rome's at stake.

Varius.
And well it would be lost,
For staying here one Night within those Arms.

Junia.
Varius, so high a Compliment as this
Shews you have study'd long at courtly Athens;
Where you have learn'd to know all things, but me:
Who, tho' I value Caius Cassius,
As Slaves do Liberty, or sick Men Health,
Nay more than most of my own Sex love Power;
Yet (what I think the very worst of Fates)
I would lose Sight of that dear Man for ever,
Rather than see him fail our Country's Cause.

Varius.
Oh ample Recompence for all his Troubles,
To be so lov'd by you! But is he grateful,
Who can so easily endure your Absence?

Junia.
I mourn for his, and judge his Grief by mine.
Retirement suits a solitary Wife,
And Melancholy loves to be alone.

[Offers to go out.
Varius.
But should not be indulg'd against your Health. [Stops her.

Rather shine forth, and chear your Brother's Soul,
Which daily sinks beneath a thousand Cares.

Junia.
His Soul's too great to need such feeble Help.
Besides, tho' priz'd he be above Expression,
Yet ev'n his Friendship must not vye with Love:
One Thought of Cassius out-weighs all things else;
Cassius, whose noble Soul would ne'er submit
To him who domineer'd o'er all besides:
Cassius, Contriver of the Tyrant's Fall;
And (what is more, far more than all the rest)
That hardy Man who mov'd it first to Brutus:
This Man, my Husband, or my Hero rather,
Shall with his Presence ever chear my Eyes,
Or in his Absence take up all my Thoughts.

[Exit Junia.

SCENE V.

Enter Brutus.
Brutus.
My Sister weeping! Tho' her Reason governs,
I judge her Grief for Cassius, by my own;
For Portia's Absence sits upon my Heart:
Nor need I blush to bear the tender Burthen,
So much she merits, and so well she loves.
But publick Cares must silence private Grief;
Since ev'ry Hour some fresh Expresses tell
New fatal Turns in Rome, portending Ill:
The wav'ring Lepidus, (perceiving Cæsar
Had cunningly agreed with Antony)
Tho' with a greater Army, yields to them.

Varius.
What says the noble Brutus?—Junia gone!

Brutus.
Is Varius deaf to Dangers of his Country?

Varius.
Forbid it, Jove! But Junia's Melancholy,
So very moving, took up all my Thoughts.

Brutus.
Too moving, I'm afraid.

Varius.
Indeed, my Lord,
Had you perceiv'd the Charms of weeping Beauty,
That gorgeous Dress which Sorrow had put on,
(Out-shining all the Gaiety of Youth,
The pleasing Smiles of Mirth, and Airs of Joy)
Your gentle Nature would be mov'd like mine.

Brutus.
Why you have drawn a Picture, my young Varius,
Like any Poet, nay, like any Lover.
What, does that Word draw forth a guilty Blush?
Be not alarm'd, no more than I am, Varius;
Junia's strict Virtue, and known Love to Cassius,
Fully prevent my Fears, unless for you;
Whose Father's wond'rous Merit, and your own,
Give me a soft Concern, as for a Son.
She is above your very vainest Hopes:
Not the most tempting Charms of Wit, or Worth,
Most graceful Forms, or dazling Shew of Greatness,
Can make Impression on a Mind like her's;
Who, tho' my Sister, forces Praises from me.

Varius.
Too much, alas! I join in Junia's Praise:
My eager Thoughts still fly before your Words,
And find them short, far short of Junia's Due.

Brutus.
Then whence can rise self-flatt'ring Expectation?
Can Varius reason thus against himself,
And act quite contrary to what he thinks?
Oh what is Man, when blinded with his Passion!

Varius.
Why just that Creature Heav'n thought fit to make him.
You are, indeed, exempt from all our Follies,
And rest serene within: Yet pity others!
Behold, I own my undisguis'd Offence,
And freely open all my Thoughts to you;
To you, who are a very God to Varius,
Who can at once forgive, and cure my Weakness.

Brutus.
But only by Despair: without that Help,
There is no God himself can give you Ease:
A sharp, I must confess, but certain Cure.
Our Stoical Philosophy instructs us,
A wise Man is above the Reach of Jove,
Yet hardly 'scapes the worst of Demons, Love.
But since good Junia's Soul is firm as Fate,
Be yours so too. What helps it to be learn'd!
Or to be wise in Bus'ness of the World?
Nay, where would be the Good to rule that World,
Without an inward Pow'r to govern Passion?
The Man disturb'd within, is but a Player;
May act abroad, perhaps, some Hero's Part,
But sinks at home, a low, uneasy Slave.

Varius.
To teach, is easy; but to learn, is hard.
As well might Heav'nly Socrates infuse
His own wise Temper, while he taught his Morals,
As Brutus raise my Soul to equal his.

Brutus.
Be not so modest, Varius, nor so courtly;
Brutus is not your Mistress, but your Friend.
The Roman Virtue shines so bright in you,
Nothing is wanting to make up Perfection
But your Command o'er this unfruitful Passion.
Love, ev'n when most successful, makes not happy.
Sometimes indeed, Pleasure beyond Expression
Possesses all at once both Mind and Body,
Confounding Soul and Sense with Height of Rapture.
But what Allays o'erbalance all this Joy!
Frequent Disquiets, Doubts, and Jealousies;
Sometimes the Pains of Absence, and sometimes,
Amidst the Bliss, a dismal Dread to lose it.
At best the Pleasure is but intermitting,
While the uneasy Fever never ceases.
But Love, when slighted, is intolerable:
Who courts the fairest Tyrant, is a Fool,
And lives a Martyr in the meanest Cause.

Varius.
Enough, enough, I am already cur'd,
At least till Junia is beheld again.

Brutus.
'Tis half a Cure in Love to wish for one.
Give me your Hand, you'll march with me To-morrow;
Where you will drown your Sighs in Sounds of War,
And turn your tend'rest Thoughts on your poor Country.

[Exeunt Brutus and Varius.

Of Athenian Youths and Virgins. By Mr. Pope.

Second CHORUS.

Youths.
O tyrant Love! hast thou possest
The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous Breast?
Wisdom and Wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but soften us to feel thy Flame.
Varius with Blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
Why, Virtue, dost thou blame Desire,
Which Nature has imprest?
Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire
The mild and gen'rous Breast?

Virgins.
Love's purer Flames the Gods approve;
The Gods, and Brutus bend to Love:
Brutus for absent Portia sighs,
And sterner Cassius melts at Junia's Eyes.
What is loose Love? A wand'ring Fire,
A transient Fit of fond Desire.
But Hymen's Flames like Stars unite,
And burn for ever one;
Chaste, as cold Cynthia's Virgin Light,
Productive as the Sun.

Youths.
What various Joys on One attend,
As Son, as Father, Husband, Friend
Whether his hoary Sire he spies,
And finds a thousand grateful Thoughts arise,
Or meets his Spouse's fonder Eye,
Or views his smiling Progeny;
What tender Passions take their Turns?
What home-felt Raptures move?
His Heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With Rev'rence, Hope and Love.

CHORUS of Both.
Hence guilty Joys, Distastes, Surmises,
False Oaths, false Tears, Deceits, Disguises,
Dangers, Doubts, Delays, Surprizes,
(Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine)
Purest Love's unwasting Treasure,
Constant Faith, fair Hope, long Leisure,
Days of Ease, and Nights of Pleasure,
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

In the same Vestibule.
Enter Brutus, Junia, Lucilius.
Lucilius.
A messenger express arriv'd from Rome,
Is entring mournfully the Palace Gates;
And, as he passes, weeping all the Way.

Brutus.
My Mind forebodes; speak, is my Portia well?

Enter Messenger, who gives a Letter to Brutus.
Messenger.
She is, Sir.

Brutus.
Then I hope to bear the worst.
“My Duty forces me to send you News, [Reads.

“Which, tho' you needs must know, I grieve to write.
“Two hundred of the noblest Rank in Rome
“Proscrib'd, and murder'd: Cicero himself
“Giv'n up by false Octavius to his Foes.”
Good Heav'ns! to whom do ye dispose Mankind? [Drops the Letter.

Sad Fate, indeed! So great a Villainy
Is most surprizing, tho' 'tis done by them.

[Weeps.
Junia.
Dismal indeed! but oh my dearest Brother,
Let not your tender Mind be too much touch'd;
Practise that Patience which you now have taught me.
Cassius is absent, I am desolate,
Yet Rome (you said) must take up all my Thoughts.

Brutus.
And therefore 'tis for Rome I most lament,
At once depriv'd of her most worthy Sons!
These Sons are to be envy'd, not bemoan'd;
Most noble Suff'rers in their Country's Cause:
Great Cicero lives still, shall live for ever;
While Men can read, or value Worth or Learning.
But Rome herself appears all pale before me,
Gushing out Tears, and wringing helpless Hands;
Rome, Rome has lost her best, her purest Blood!

[Weeps again.
Junia.
Brutus, be chear'd: her vital Parts remain;
In you and Cassius flows the Roman Spirit,
That still inspires whole Armies on her Side.

Lucilius.
'Tis nobly, truly said; and you, bright Junia,
Possess a Soul, tho' in a softer Frame,
Lofty enough to animate ev'n them.

Brutus.
She does, Lucilius; and were Portia here,
(But I, alas! shall never be so happy)
Cassius and I should be but Followers
Of them in the Defence of Liberty.
But oh! my Cicero! who speaks thy Praise,
Must have a Tongue like thine, beyond the Bounds
Of Roman Eloquence; and fit to fill
The Mouth of Fame with never-dying Sounds.

Junia.
How could Octavius consent to lose him,
The best, as well as wisest of his Friends?

Brutus.
Ambition over-eager, checks at nothing;
A goodly, but a dang'rous Bird of Prey;
Flies at all Game, and never to be tam'd,
She pecks, and tears the Hand on which she sits.
I often warn'd good Tully of his Danger;
But all in vain, when Heav'n will have it so.
He wish'd himself with us, at Cæsar's Death,
And heartily, I doubt not; tho' his Foes
Suspected his too soft and tender Nature.

SCENE II.

Enter some Lictors, bringing in Theodotus with them bound as a Prisoner.
Lictor.
We have discover'd here Theodotus,
Odious to all Mankind for Pompey's Death.

Junia.
What! he that made a formal Speech for Murder?
And with a Philosophick Gravity
Sanctify'd Mischief with a rev'rend Tongue?
The Orator wants Words in his own Cause.

Brutus.
Speak for thyself; that Justice thou shalt have.

Theodotus.
Had I not often own'd my Crime with Tears,
So self-condemn'd already; or if Brutus
Were not my Judge, the good, the faultless Brutus;
Black tho' I now appear, and all disfigur'd
With common Prejudice; yet I might give
Fair Colour to this hated, foul Offence.
But who can stand the Test of strictest Justice?
Or how can Words avail to sway the Wise?
This Wisdom and this Justice are in Brutus.
So much superior thou to other Men,
That at thy Judgment-Seat, the greatest Art
Is useless to excuse the smallest Fault.

Brutus.
Say boldly all thou canst.

Theodotus.
Else, I might say 'tis hard to be condemn'd
For doing that, which if I had not done,
I might have justly been condemn'd by those
Who summon'd me to Council for their Safety.
I thought their Safety ask'd for Pompey's Death:
O that I could redeem it with my own!
Pompey was great, was good, was wise, was valiant,
But yet was vanquish'd by more happy Cæsar;
Who, had his Foe been spar'd, would soon have shewn
A real Rage, which now he but affected.
Could Egypt stop the Victor of Pharsalia?
All we could give was but a poor Reprieve,
A Hardship worse than Death to Minds resolv'd.
Rome and her Liberty entirely lost,
Pompey would have disdain'd a Life precarious,
Which yet had cost our King and Country dear.
Would he had counsell'd, and would I had dy'd!
For he, who, as a Roman, died for Rome;
If born with us, would have advis'd for Egypt.

Junia.
With all thy Guilt, how durst thou name great Pompey?

Theodotus.
Ev'n he was guilty once, and slew your Father.
Yet, grant he was the bravest, best of Men,
Victorious often in the Cause of Rome,
While I was but a Counsellor for Egypt;
Since Fame rewards his Service to his Country,
Should I be punish'd for assisting mine?

Brutus.
If Words could change the Nature of ill Deeds,
Thy Head would be indebted to thy Tongue,
Which, I must needs confess, has done its Part,
And makes my tender Nature wish thee hence,
Out of my Reach, as well as Will to punish.
But here I stand the Substitute of Rome;
Which with united Sighs bemoans her Pompey,
And weeping waits to have his Death reveng'd.
Thy worthless Prince and Country were too slight
A Sacrifice to Pompey. At his Feet
Cæsar himself was not too great to fall:
Think but on that, and thou wilt die content. [Exeunt Lucilius and Officers with Theodotus.

'Twere barbarous to reason with a Wretch
Long since condemn'd to die by Rome's Decree.
But he was no Egyptian, as he pleaded;
Nor subject to that Prince he so advis'd.

Junia.
What King or Country dares be so audacious
To hurt the meanest Senator of Rome?
How then durst any think of killing Pompey?

Brutus.
Presumptuous Wickedness! Pompey o'ercome,
Abandon'd by his Friends, a Fugitive,
At Mercy of the meanest, basest Villain;
Yet in that lowest Ebb was much too high
For such a Prince as Ptolemy to reach.
From Ptolemy, prostrate at Pompey's Feet,
Not only Aid, but Reverence was due.
That Chief escaping, might have chang'd Rome's Fate;
And the whole World had been oblig'd to Egypt.

SCENE III.

Enter Lucilius.
Lucilius.
Base Villainy is seldom at a stand,
But still proceeding on to greater Mischief:
From murd'ring Senators at Rome, they now
Lift their aspiring Treachery to Brutus.
The wise Athenians watchful of your Safety,
Have newly seiz'd a Slave in foul Disguise;
Who on the Rack confesses all the Crime.
“Hie thee to Athens (said the base Octavius)
“And save thy Master, save us all, save Rome,
“Go, purchase Fame and Freedom by a Blow:
“Our Foes are all united in that Brutus;
“He, he alone inspir'd the Death of Cæsar.
“Be desperate, be secret, and be rich.”

Brutus.
I pity the poor Wretch; he knows no better.
At his Return how would his Master grieve
To find me safer here than he at Rome?
He does but shoot these Arrows in the Air.

Lucilius.
Except at Rome infected by our Foes,
Virtue like yours is ev'ry-where secure,
And claims the just Protection of Mankind.

Junia.
Your Life is so important,
Youths quit their Pleasures, Soldiers slight their Pay,
Ev'n Misers leave their Wealth to watch your Safety.

Brutus.
Let go the Slave to tell Octavius this.

Lucilius.
What! save that Wretch?

Brutus.
Both save and let him go.
In this Attempt he but obey'd his Master. [Exit Lucilius.

Oh that there were no Romans worse than he!
This Slave would kill, but 'tis to get his Freedom!
But, ah! ev'n Senators are growing Slaves,
Careless of Honour, void of Honesty,
Forgetting all their noble Ancestors,
And ruining a glorious Commonwealth!

Enter Titinius and Lucilius again.
Titinius.
Cassius has sent me here with this Reply,
He wants that Gold himself, which you would borrow;
Of which, at Meeting, you shall have Account.
These Letters I have brought for noble Junia.

[Junia goes out with the Letters.
Lucilius.
Your Legions then must stay till his are paid.

Brutus.
Think not the worst, Lucilius, ere it comes:
At Sardis we shall meet by break of Day.
I'll take an Hour's Repose, and then for Sardis.
Good Night to both.

Lucilius.
Rest to your noble Thoughts.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Brutus remains, laid on his Couch.
Brutus.
'Tis but in vain, Sleep is not to be courted.
Sing, Boy, the Song that Portia likes so well,
And sooth my Thoughts with some melodious Sounds. [Soft Musick and Song.

Man is himself an Instrument of Musick;
But yet some String is always out of Tune,
And ev'ry Sound we make shews our Confusion.
Why should this Death of Cæsar trouble me?
I did it not for Anger, or Ambition;
But for mere Honesty, and Publick Good;
Nay, Good to him; for in my own Opinion,
'Tis better much to die, than live unjustly.
My Fellow-Citizens, my Kindred, Friends,
All sunk at once beneath his rising Fortune.
And should I tamely suffer an Usurper
T'enslave Mankind, because he smiles on me?
Friendship indeed is the most tempting Bribe;
But Justice should be blind to all its Beauty.
And yet a Restlessness attends such Deeds,
Tho' ne'er so just; something that feels unwieldy,
That sits uneasy on a gentle Nature:
I cannot sleep, unless I shake it off.

SCENE V.

Enter a Spirit in the Shape of Cæsar, full of Wounds.
Spirit.
I am thy Evil Genius, Marcus Brutus,
And have assum'd this Shape, to give thee Terror.

Brutus.
Terror! How cam'st thou to know me no better?
Sure thou art ignorant, as well as evil.

Spirit.
Is Murder then no Crime?

Brutus.
Killing is none;
When done not for ourselves, but for our Country.

Spirit.
Not for yourself indeed; you stabb'd your Friend.

Brutus.
Friend! Oh thou touchest now my tender Part!
Oh name that Word no more!

Spirit.
A Friend! a Friend!

Brutus.
But what's a Friend, compar'd with publick Good?
Convince me, if thou can'st: Oh, teach me Truth!
And shew me but one Glimpse of future Being,
Of which we talk so much, yet know so little!
Dispel these Mists that muffle poor Mankind,
And open to me all that glorious Scene!
Shew me where Virtue smiles and sits enthron'd,
And where Morality finds just Reward;
'Tis sure, above: for ill Men prosper here.

Spirit.
Soon at Philippi thou shalt know it all.

Brutus.
Shall we then meet again?

Spirit.
Yes, at Philippi.

Brutus.
I'll meet thee there. I'll meet thee any-where. [Exit Spirit.

Now I am resolute, the Shadow flies,
And vanishes together with my Fear.
What hoa!

Enter Boy.
My Lord!

Brutus.
Did you see nothing?

Boy.
No.

Brutus.
Nor hear me speak?

Boy.
Nothing at all, my Lord.

Brutus.
Let ev'ry thing be ready for our March;
And call me up, be sure, by break of Day.
Till then I'll sleep within.

[Exeunt.

Of Roman Senators.

Third CHORUS.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

A Field near Philippi, where Cassius and Brutus made the Rendezvous of their Armies.
Enter Brutus and Officers.
Brutus.
'Tis here that I and Cassius were to join:
What say our Scouts? Is any Army near?

Officer.
The rising Dust discovers their Approach;
And some, impatient of so slow a March,
Are just arriv'd before to meet their Friends.

Enter Lucilius.
Brutus.
O, here's Lucilius, whom I sent to Cassius.

Lucilius.
Cassius, my Lord, salutes the noble Brutus,
And hastens to embrace him.

Brutus.
O Lucilius!
Cassius is alter'd much, or ill advis'd;
Has, I am loth to say it, done some things
Which do not well become so great a Man.
But, since he is so near, I'll stay my Censure,
And wish to find my Jealousy mistaken.
But, good Lucilius, how did he receive you.
When you brought friendly Notice I was near?

Lucilius.
With Forms, and Compliments, and great Respect,
Out-doing Enemies in Ceremony;
But no Familiarity betwixt us;
None of that free and friendly Conference
Which we have us'd of old: and when he nam'd you,
'Twas always with such set, affected Praise,
As if the Commendation had no Meaning,
But to be told again.

Brutus.
I am afraid
Thou judgest but too right: Nothing is nobler
Than Friendship, till it once begins to fail;
But then asham'd, and conscious of Defect,
It hides itself in Compliment and Care:
At the first Shock, off falls the frail Disguise;
Falshood is foolish, and betrays itself.
There is no Art in plain and friendly Truth,
Which like the Sun shines forth by its own Light.
Violent Minds sometimes make glorious Shew,
Like Gilding shine, equal to real Gold,
But in the Usage, how much Difference!
Hark! he's arriv'd; march gently on to meet him.

SCENE II.

Enter Cassius, &c.
Cassius.
Embracing thus is but a thing of Form;
For 'tis not fit that both our Armies here
Should once suspect the least Dispute between us.

Brutus.
The common Cause indeed requires our Care;
And all our Discontents should yield to that.

Cassius.
Brutus, let us retire into my Tent,
Lest here by chance some unbecoming Word
Break out too loud.

Brutus.
Are we so little Masters of ourselves?
How can we then be fit to govern Armies?

Cassius.
You think yourself above those common Frailties.

Brutus.
The Stoics are above unruly Passion.
But, since you would retire, I am content
My Soldiers may remove beyond those Fields.
Lucilius, march a little off this Ground:
Let your Men do the like, under Pretence
Of our conferring about great Affairs;
Indeed our greatest; for a Home Dispute
Is of more Consequence than Foreign Dangers.

Cassius.
Titinius, let my Forces move away
To yonder Plain, and leave us all alone;
'Tis necessary we should be in private.

[Exeunt all, except Brutus and Cassius.

SCENE III.

Cassius.
You ask'd me fifty Talents for your Legions,
And in a Style as to your Treasurer,
As if I should prefer yours to my own:
Am I to be impos'd on thus by you?

Brutus.
Sure, Cassius little knows the Force of Friendship;
Writing so freely, shew'd my Trust and Kindness.
He that desires a Favour from a Friend,
Does him the greatest in desiring it.

Cassius.
Come, I must tell you, over-great Applause
Lifts you too high. Shou'd I, who kill'd ev'n Cæsar,
Only for his excessive Pow'r and Pride,
Should I at last submit thus to another?
From a Superior my Stars defend me!

Brutus.
From a Superior! you little know me:
I scarce would be superior to my Slaves,
Except in Virtue; that is worthy Pride.

Cassius.
Then think not, Sir, of being above me.

Brutus.
I wish I were not, by these weak Suspicions.
What! jealous of a Friend? it moves my Pity.

Cassius.
Pity! I scorn it.

Brutus.
Scorn your Rage, that moves it.
My Pity is not, ought not, to be slighted:
'Tis like the kind Compassion of a Parent,
Full of Concern, and free from all Contempt,
Rather deserves your Thanks than your Reproach.

Cassius.
My Thanks! for what? for domineering o'er me?

Brutus.
Yet Reason has some Right to govern Passion.

Cassius.
Brutus, you have an over-ruling way,
Which, under Colour of a patient Calmness,
Expects Compliance with your gentle Temper.
But I see thro' it.

Brutus.
See! your Passion blinds you.

Cassius.
You have no Passion, yet provoke another's.

Brutus.
It is provoking to inform a Brother
Of Faults no other dares presume to tell him,
And yet most necessary he should know?
Your Troops have done most dismal Outrages;
Forc'd harmless Wretches from their native Homes,
Slighted the Widows and the Orphans Tears,
Gather'd their last Remains with greedy Gripe;
That which poor Swains had labour'd for whole Years,
Is in one Moment plunder'd by your Soldiers.
This sinks our Cause, which rose at first so glorious.
Shall we, who soar'd so high in Reputation,
And open'd ev'ry Mouth in our just Praises,
Now on a sudden fall to dire Oppression?
Shall we at last pull down with our own Hands
That lofty Fabrick of well-founded Honour?

Cassius.
Am I to answer for it?

Brutus.
With your Fame;
That stands expos'd to ev'ry just Man's Censure.

Cassius.
Go on no more; I will no longer bear it.

Brutus.
By Heav'n you shall hear all; then do your worst.
Dare I not say whatever you dare act?
Am I not equally concern'd with you
In this great War for Freedom of our Country?
Yet must not tell whatever hurts our Cause?

Cassius.
Tempt me no farther, Sir; you may repent it.

Brutus.
Tempt not you me with all your furious Looks:
I am above your Threats, and can look down
Both on yourself and them.

Cassius.
Were it not for the Cause we have in Hand,
I wou'd not bear this Heap of Injuries.

Brutus.
I injure! Where is that unlucky Man
Who can with Reason make Complaint of me?
If any, I'll acknowledge it with Shame.
The Man who wrongs his meanest Adversary,
Exalts his Enemy above himself.
And can you think that I could injure Cassius,
My Brother, and my Friend?

Cassius.
If hearing Lyes
With greedy Ears, and soon believing them;
If misinterpreting whate'er I do,
And representing things in foulest Colours,
Can be call'd wronging, who was e'er so wrong'd?

Brutus.
If I have said one Word that sounds unkindly,
My Tongue has slipp'd, and quite deceiv'd my Heart,
That melts like Wax before your hottest Anger.
Behold my Tears for having so much vex'd you.

Cassius.
What says my Brutus? Speak that Word again:
Am I not then so full, so full of Faults?

Brutus.
It was my Frailty to presume so much.

Cassius.
And mine to be suspicious of my Brutus.
All shall be mended.

Brutus.
But can you forgive
Too sharp Expressions, tho' with kind Intent?

Cassius.
So kind Intent, I own the Obligation.
No Man but Brutus durst have spoke so boldly;
No Man but Brutus would have spoke so kindly.

Brutus.
Oh! Cassius, nothing but the tender'st Friendship,
And when I thought it for the publick Good,
Could have embolden'd me to censure you.

Cassius.
Embrace me close, and witness how my Heart
Leaps up transported with this sudden Change.

Brutus.
It was an eager Argument indeed,
But ends as it should do between such Friends,
Resenting nothing but their Country's Wrongs.
Methinks good Spirits hov'ring all around us,
Should to the World proclaim our happy Union,
Now, while our Enemies combine in Mischief.
Thus firmly join'd, we'll first be Conquerors,
Then make all Rome contented as ourselves.

SCENE IV.

Enter Lucilius and Titinius.
Cassius.
Come in, Lucilius; welcome, good Titinius.
Let us consult of our Necessities,
And manage well this last important Stake.

Brutus.
The State is thus at Rome: My Letter mentions
Full fifty Senators, with thousands more,
Newly proscrib'd; and Cicero is one.

Cassius.
Cicero one! that talking Friend of Cæsar!
Octavius has well paid him for his Pains;
May ill Men ever use each other so.

Brutus.
Oh! gently censure ev'n a Foe when dead.
See, Cassius, here the Curse of Over-caution.
The wary Walker, who mistrusts too much,
Treads not so firm, but faintly, and so stumbles:
Thus Tully fell, by too much Fear of Falling.

Cassius.
But Antony and young Octavius
Are marching hither with a mighty Force:
The useless Lepidus is left at Rome.

Brutus.
The Question is, whether we had not best
Haste on, with Anger bent against our Foes,
Rather than tamely wait their bold Assault.

Cassius.
I am for staying here: my Reason this;
So long a March must weary out our Strength,
Which Rest will give us here. Let them come on,
And, tir'd with Toil, expose their bending Bodies
Under our lusty Arms, vig'rous and fresh:
Besides, in this we take the stoutest Part;
For resolute expecting certain Danger
Shews the most settled Courage; while the Coward
Runs often fiercely on to shun his Fear,
And swallow down in haste the bitter Draught.

Brutus.
Some Reasons have a strange fallacious Force;
Just as the pleasing Colours us'd by Artists
Delude the very Sight. But, in my Judgment,
It tires our Army more to tarry here.
Opinion is the Soul of ev'ry Action;
Keep but that up, that keeps up all the rest:
And 'tis maintain'd by Marks of Resolution,
By rushing on the Foe, forcing to fight,
Not ling'ring here behind with slacken'd Vigour.
We must depend upon our Zeal and Cause,
And therefore in hot Blood shall do it best.
If once we cool, their surer Discipline
Will soon prevail against our new-rais'd Force.
The Hearts of all our Soldiers now are set
On fierce Encountring, all their Rage inflam'd;
There's nothing wanting but to draw their Swords,
And down goes Tyranny, to rise no more.
Can we sit still, and pause with such a Thought?
So near a glorious Deed there's no Repose:
Impatience makes unquiet Expectation,
And eager Nature can allow no Rest.

Cassius.
You shall prevail; we'll let 'em but refresh,
And then we'll charge the Foe.

Brutus.
Let us embrace; and, oh! my dearest Brother,
This Quarrel shall but make us better Friends.

Of Roman Soldiers.

Fourth CHORUS.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The Field of Philippi.
Brutus, Cassius, Lucilius and Titinius, with other Officers, at the Head of their Army.
Enter Varius hastily.
Varius.
Propitious Stars favour our Cause already.
Behold! a heedless Party of Octavius,
Hast'ning too fast, is fall'n within our Ambush;
And we may cut them off without Defence.

Cassius.
Fall on 'em instantly.

Brutus.
Hold, Cassius, hold,
And spare your Fellow-Citizens at Mercy.

Cassius.
The Death of these will make the Day our own.

Brutus.
'Twill rather make the rest more desperate.
Consider, Cassius, they are Romans all.

Cassius.
So much the worse, fighting against their Country.

Brutus.
Alas! they do but follow wicked Leaders,
And are our Countrymen, with all their Faults;
Kindred, nay Friends, perhaps, to thee or me.

Cassius.
Thy tender Nature will undo us all.

Brutus.
Good Cassius, let me over-rule in this,
And you in all Things else shall govern me.
Order our Soldiers not to kill a Man. [To Lucilius.

But seize them gently, as your future Friends.
Oh! Cassius, what a Pleasure 'tis to save
Romans from falling in a shameful Cause!

Cassius.
I can no longer contradict my Brutus,
Your Mercy is so moving; yet I own
This Battle never was approv'd by me:
For I would ne'er have ventur'd at one Blow
So great a Stake as all our Liberties;
But rather have prolong'd th'important War.
I use to slight Presages; but of late,
My Mind, I know not how, foreboding Ill,
Spite of my Reason, feels a drooping Sadness,
And by its gloomy Light foresees Misfortune.

Brutus.
In such a Cause it were a Fault to fear;
Else, Cassius, I might have some Fancies too.
For Cæsar's Ghost appear'd to me last Night,
At all his gaping Wounds breathing Revenge;
And when I would have reason'd with it, vanish'd.

Cassius.
Alas! good Brutus, what can be in that,
But an Effect of melancholy Fumes?
A dark and dismal Picture lively drawn
By dreaming Fancy, tho' we think we wake?
Our Sect believes no Spirits; if there be,
At least, if they are such as Plato fancies,
Those purer Beings, who behold our Cause,
Those Demi-gods will sure encourage Virtue,
And give their Fellow-Creatures just Assistance.
Thus, in the Midst of Slaughter we shall find
Ten thousand airy Legions on our Side,
Sent to our Aid, as Heav'n's Auxiliaries.

Enter Lucilius, with an Officer of the other Army.
Lucilius.
My Lord, your gen'rous Orders were obey'd,
And see the just Success! This worthy Tribune,
Won by your Mercy to those other Soldiers,
Is come to join us with a valiant Band,
Hoping they never will be Foes to Brutus.

Officer.
Such Virtue needs no Army to support it;
It vanquishes beyond the Reach of Force,
And makes our very Minds yield due Submission.

Brutus.
Submission only should be paid to Heav'n,
And I must blush to hear it from a Roman.
We scarce have in this little Span of Life
Sufficient Time for Exercise of Virtue;
We should do Ill to lose the least Occasion.
Let all his Cohort charge with our chief Legion.
Such a Desertion is a timely Service.

Officer.
Your Approbation is our highest Aim:
And this Day we'll deserve it.

Brutus.
'Tis not doubted:
Your Country's Freedom will excite your Valour.
Let him have Rank among our chief Commanders.

[Exit Officer with Varius and Titinius.

SCENE II.

Manent Cassius and Brutus.
Cassius.
The Fight is well begun, most noble Brutus:
And may the rest be still so favourable,
That we may lengthen out our Lives to Age,
In all the peaceful Joys of Love and Friendship.
But, since the Chance of War is most uncertain,
'Tis Wisdom to provide against the Worst:
Which is, our Parting, if we lose the Battle,
Never to meet again: In such a Case
What is my dearest Friend resolv'd to do?

Brutus.
I am, alas! so weary of a World,
All full of Faults and Follies, I would leave it:
But that to me it seems a want of Spirit
To shrink from Life for fear of future Ill.
'Tis to distrust the Justice of the Gods,
Or else their Pow'r; and is, in my Opinion,
Not Courage, but a bold Disguise for Fear.
With Patience arm'd, I'll bear the Blows of Fortune.

Cassius.
Then, dearest Brutus, you can be content
To wear a Chain; nay, what is yet much worse,
To see great Rome as much a Slave as you?

Brutus.
O never, never come that fatal Day!
The very Sound offends. Oh! you have nam'd
The only thing, ye Gods! I cannot bear.
When-e'er ye send that Summons, 'tis my last.
And therefore, lest we ne'er should meet again,
Here let us take our everlasting Leave.

Cassius.
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Brutus!
After this famous Day we shall be Victors,
Or else beyond the Sense of being vanquish'd.

Brutus.
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Cassius!
'Twill be with Pleasure if we meet hereafter;
If not, this Parting is our greatest Pain.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

Just as Cassius is going off, enter Titinius hastily, and stops him.
Titinius.
The Army of Marc Antony appears,
Fearless, and forward to attempt your Camp.

Cassius.
Sure, 'tis impossible: Tho' brave to Rashness,
He is a Soldier of too great Experience;
I cannot hope for such a Fault in him.
'Tis safer to bestride the angry Ocean,
Than offer to assault a Roman Camp.
We'll soon correct this insolent Antonius,
And crush the bold Attempt.

[Exit Cassius.
A Charge is sounded.
Re-enter Cassius, with Titinius, Pindarus and other Officers.
Cassius.
Their prosp'rous Rashness terrifies our Men,
Who never fear'd before: I doubt all's lost;
The Liberty of Rome is gone for ever.
I'll perish with it, or redeem the Day.
Titinius, oh! make haste, fly tow'rd those Troops;
Discover quickly if they are our Friends. [Exit Titinius.

Go, Pindarus, get on the rising Ground,
(My Sight, thou know'st, is short) and take a View
Quite round the Field.

Pindarus goes up the Hill, then calls to Cassius.
Pindarus.
Hoa, my good Lord!

Cassius.
What now?

Pindarus.
Titinius is seiz'd on by the Foe.

Cassius.
Oh, he is taken, and they shout for Joy. [Cassius goes also to view.

Come down, come down;
Oh, I have liv'd to see my best Friend lost!
And by my own Procurement! Pindarus,
I took thee Pris'ner once, and spar'd thy Life;
All the Return I ask, is, now take mine. [Pindarus turns away weeping.

I am thy General, and Master too;
Yet I have us'd thee as becomes a Friend:
A Friend will not deny my last Request.
Kill me with this; with this I slew the Tyrant.

[Cassius presents him his Dagger.
Pindarus.
Is there Necessity?

Cassius.
Thou see'st there is.
Dispatch it quickly, while I turn my Face.

Pindarus.
Then farewel, worthy Cassius.

[Pindarus kills himself.
Cassius.
What, gone before me? Did I need Example?
For Shame now Cassius, do thy own last Work;
Pindarus leads the honourable Way.

[Falls on his Sword.

SCENE IV.

Enter Titinius, meeting one of Cassius's Officers just entering at the other Door.
Titinius.
Brutus with chearful News greets Caius Cassius;
And, having broke the Forces of Octavius,
Is hasting hither to relieve his Friend.

Officer.
Alas! he comes too late, see there lies Cassius!

Enter Brutus with Officers.
Brutus.
Is Cassius on the Ground? O my dear Friend! [Runs to Cassius.

I came to fill thy Ears with pleasing News;
But such a Sight has turn'd my Joy to Grief.

Cassius.
What! has my feeble Hand made me be taken?
Is Cassius to become the Scorn of Antony?

[Rising a little, believing it to be Antony.
Brutus.
Rather the Grief of ev'ry worthy Roman.
What cursed Hand has slain my dearest Friend?

Cassius.
What do I hear, and see? Is Brutus there?
A Pris'ner too?

Brutus.
The Gods forbid that, Cassius!
Look up and see thy mournful Friend victorious.

Cassius.
Have you then sav'd the Liberty of Rome?
I ask no more, and die with full Content.
But yet I leave my Junia behind:
Oh, still be tender of that best of Women!
In being kind to her, remember me.

[Dies in his Arms.
Brutus.
Remember thee! Who can forget thy Worth?
With a dead Friend, Disputes are all forgot,
And what is tender takes up all the Mind;
Grief only thinks on that which most promotes it: [Turns to his Officers.

And oh! I long to give my Sorrow vent;
But our dear Country now claims all my Care.
Summon our Soldiers, that I may with Praise
Keep up that Spirit which has fir'd their Souls. [Enter a confused Multitude of Soldiers.

Hail, Fellow-Soldiers, worthy of that Cause
For which you fight so well. Your Actions past
Urge you to more: Be your own great Example.
On far unequal Terms these Armies meet;
They fight to make Ambition Tyranny,
And themselves Slaves; their Vict'ry is their Ruin.
But if for this one Day you can submit
To one who but commands you for your Sakes;
(Now proud to lead, while you are pleas'd to follow)
You ev'ry one shall be a Conqueror,
And equal to your General, who seeks
No other Triumph but his Country's Freedom.
End but that Work, and then to foreign Wars.
There's no Man here, but may by Merit hope
To lead an Army, and have me his Soldier. Acclamations of Applause.

Let prodigal Antonius promise Treasures,
Wrench'd from hard Hands of wretched lab'ring Swains,
Who lift them up to Heav'n to call down Vengeance.
I can out-bid him, spite of all his Riches:
Hark to the pleasing Sound! 'tis Liberty!
That only nam'd, I need to say no more.

[Exeunt Soldiers shouting.

SCENE V.

A Trumpet sounds mournfully.
Brutus.
Silence those dismal Notes for Cassius' Death;
There is no need of Sounds to raise true Sorrow;
And it will chear the Foe to hear us mourn.
Oh Cassius! what a Loss art thou to Rome!

[Stooping down to the dead Body.
Trumpet sounds again mournful. Enter Varius.
Varius.
'Tis with a trembling Hand I shew these Letters;
Your Grief for Cassius, will, alas! be lost:
Like Rivers in the Ocean, swallow'd up
In sadder News.

Brutus.
Speak, is my Portia well?
What! make no Answer? then 'tis so indeed.
In saying nothing, thou hast told me all.

Varius.
Here is the sad Account.

[Holds the Letter to Brutus.
Brutus.
Oh, read it, read it.

Varius.
“Varius, I must unwillingly inform you, [Reading.

“That Portia, grieving for her Husband's Absence,
“Had mourn'd herself into a raging Fever;
“In which, because she fancy'd he was dead,
“She (none suspecting) swallow'd burning Coals,
“So dy'd with mournful Clamours for her Brutus.”

Brutus.
Enough, enough. O ye immortal Gods!
I'll not complain of you, but of myself;
For, sure I am the very worst of Men,
Since you think fit to make me the most wretched.
How all my Tears are on a sudden stopt!
Something I feel within, that weighs me down;
And I must sink.

Varius.
Good Sir, be comforted.

Brutus.
Oh never, never.
Had'st thou beheld her with my weeping Eyes,
When tenderly we took our latest leave;
How her Love pleaded, and her Beauty mov'd;
When, all dissolv'd in Grief, her mournful Looks
She fix'd on mine! Oh never talk of Comfort.
Comfort! dear Portia, if I ever seek it,
May then—alas! I cannot curse myself,
Heav'n knows, I am already so unhappy.

Enter Lucilius hastily.
Lucilius.
The Enemy once more is coming on:
Antony leads them out of Cassius' Camp,
And gathers, as he goes, the large Remains
Of the new-routed Army of Octavius.
I'll do my best to stop them in their March.

Brutus.
Antonius, and his Army! Alas! Varius;
What's that, or Victory itself, to me?

Varius.
But yet our Country should not be forgotten.

Brutus.
Oh! no: I'll bear about this heavy Heart:
Yet, when I struggle most, it weighs me down.

Varius.
But where is, Sir, your wonted Resolution?

Brutus.
Gone, Varius, gone for ever with my Portia.

Varius.
Then, farewel all the Liberty of Rome!

Brutus.
The Liberty of Rome! The Thought of that
Has rous'd me up—Yet one Sigh more for Portia—
Rome yet shall have my Cares: But Oh! my Friend,
May this be the last Battle among Romans!
It grieves my Soul to see this Civil Slaughter.
Fain I would live to leave my Country free,
And with my dying Eyes behold her prosper.
Else I have done too much; and Cæsar's Death
Too sharp a Med'cine, if it does not cure.
'Twas cutting off a Limb ev'n from myself,
And, oh! I now begin to feel the Maim.
But 'tis too late, and we must now look forwards—
Command our Men to spread on both the Wings,
Lest they encompass us with greater Numbers:
The Troops we routed of Octavius
Will hardly have the Heart to rally more.

[Exeunt.
After they have sounded a Battle for some time, enter Lucilius and another Officer.
Lucilius.
All's lost! Ambition triumphs over Virtue.

Officer.
'Tis not our Fault, but Fate's: Did we not charge
With Fierceness fit to fight for all the World?
First, all our Darts we flung away despis'd,
Uncertain Weapons of remoter War,
And rush'd on nearer with the surer Sword;
As if each common Soldier were a Brutus,
Rome at their Hearts, and Glory in their Minds.

Lucilius.
But what is Valour, when so overmatch'd
By elder Troops, and much superior Numbers?
Yet no one yielded, while ten thousand dy'd;
Each call'd for Death as fast as e'er he fell,
And still by ill-tim'd Pity was refus'd,
We only fought to die, and they to save us:
Which Brutus then perceiving, left the Field,
And fled not from their Fury, but their Mercy.

Enter Ventidius with a Company of Soldiers.
Ventidius.
Pursue them close, and on your Lives spare Brutus.

Lucilius.
Stop then your Chace, and lead me to Antonius.
I might have scap'd, but Brutus scorns to fly.

Soldier.
He's taken, he is taken.

[They give a great Shout, and carry out Lucilius, whom they suppose to be Brutus.
[Exeunt Omnes.

SCENE VI.

Enter Brutus, and Titinius, with some Officers.
Brutus.
Ye worthy few, who with unusual Faith
Quit not a Friend whom Fortune has forsaken;
Rest your tir'd Bodies on this Bank a while:
Where like a shipwreck'd Merchant I appear,
Gath'ring the dear Remains of my lost Fortunes.

Officer.
Oh, who can judge the Councils of the Gods? [They all sit down.

Behold, the best of Men is made a Prey
To boundless Wildness, and unjust Ambition.

Brutus.
That wild Ambition but too often prospers:
Yet sure the Gods know better far than we,
How to dispose the Ruling of Mankind.
If they will have (which yet seems wondrous strange)
Injustice to succeed, and Virtue suffer;
Our Part is only to submit with Rev'rence.
'Tis time, 'tis time that Rome should be at Rest.

First Officer.
[He whispers each of them.
Not for the World.

Second Officer.
The mighty Gods forbid!

Third Officer.
May my Hand wither first!

First Officer.
What did he whisper?

Third Officer.
He earnestly intreated me to kill him.

First Officer.
He mov'd the same to me.

Titinius.
How is that noble Soul o'erwhelm'd with Anguish,
Not for his own, but for his Country's Ruin!

Brutus.
Romans, for Shame shew not such childish Pity.
Think you I am so fond of painful Life, [He rises hastily.

That my faint Hand should tremble at my Cure?
Why then refuse to do this last good Office,
Which I, for Want of Friends, must do myself?
Nay, if my Life could yet but serve my Country,
Tho' rack'd with Griefs, the very Hopes of that
Would, like strong Cordials, force me to endure it.
But lawless Empire rules! what then remains
But Death, or, worse than Death, ignoble Bondage!
Which if my Soul can ne'er submit to bear,
Pardon, good Heav'n, my not enduring Life
On such a hard Condition!—Sacred Virtue!
Thou Deity that all the Good adore!
Why hast thou cast me off, and giv'n Success
To thy own Foes, and mine? I follow'd thee
Ev'n thro' the Blood of Cæsar, whom I lov'd,
And who lov'd me. Ye Pow'rs immortal! know
With what a heavy Heart, and troubled Mind,
I help'd my Country by so harsh a Means:
But I most gladly make thee this Amends— [Cæsar's Ghost appears and vanishes.

Oh Cæsar, Cæsar! Therefore rest appeas'd;
I did not kill thee half so willingly.

[Kills himself.
Enter Antony, Dolabella, Ventidius, &c.
Antony.
The Blow is giv'n, and we are come too late.

[A great Shout of Soldiers bringing in Lucilius.
Soldier.
Rewards, and Triumph! we have brought you Brutus.

Lucilius.
No, Antony: the Gods forbid that Brutus
Should ever be a Pris'ner! by assuming
His Name, I here have stopp'd their hot Pursuit.

Antony.
This is not Brutus, but a worthy Prize:
For you have brought a Friend, and not a Foe.
Youth, I admire thy Virtue; be to me,
As thou hast been to him who now lies there. [Lucilius starts, sees the Body of Brutus, and kneels down by it.

Oh Brutus, I am robb'd of half my Triumph;
To thy most gen'rous Soul I ow'd my Life,
And fain I would have taken kind Revenge;
For, 'tis a Debt lies heavy on me now.
Rise, worthy Roman, do not mourn in vain.

[Lucilius rises.
Lucilius.
Yield all ye Heroes of immortal Name,
Whose shining Mischiefs only raise your Fame:
If publick Virtue well be understood,
Here lies the Greatest Man that e'er was Good.

Dolabella.
Yet the just Gods a righteous Judgment send;
He lov'd his Country, but he kill'd his Friend.