University of Virginia Library

ACTVS QVARTVS.

Cassius.
Decim Brutus.
Accursed Rome, that arm'st against thy selfe
A Tyrants rage, and mak'st a wretch thy King.
For one mans pleasure (O iniurious Rome,)
Thy chyldren gainst thy children thou hast arm'd;
And thinkst not of the riuers of theyr bloode,
That earst was shed to saue thy libertie,
Because thou euer hatedst Monarchie.
Now o're our bodies (tumbled vp on heapes,
Lyke cocks of Hay when Iuly sheares the field)
Thou buildst thy kingdom, and thou seat'st thy King.
And to be seruile, (which torments me most,)
Employest our liues, and lauishest our blood.
O Rome, (accursed Rome) thou murdrest vs,
And massacrest thy selfe in yeelding thus.
Yet are there Gods, yet is there heauen and earth,
That seeme to feare a certaine Thunderer,
No, no, there are no Gods, or if there be,
They leaue to see into the worlds affaires;
They care not for vs, nor account of men,
For what we see is done, is done by chaunce.
T'is Fortune rules, for equitie and right,
Haue neither helpe nor grace in heauens sight.
Scipio hath wrencht a sword into hys brest,
And launc'd hys bleeding wound into the sea.
Vndaunted Cato, tore hys entrails out.
Affranius and Faustus murdred dyed.
Iuba and Petreus fiercely combatting,
Haue each done other equall violence.
Our Army's broken, and the Lybian Beares
Deuoure the bodies of our Citizens.
The conquering Tyrant, high in Fortunes grace,
Doth ryde tryumphing o're our Common-wealth.
And mournfull we behold him brauely mounted
(With stearne lookes) in his Chariot, where he leades
The conquered honor of the people yok't.
So Rome to Cæsar yeelds both powre and pelfe,
And o're Rome Cæsar raignes in Rome it selfe.
But Brutus shall wee dissolutelie sitte,
And see the tyrant liue to tyranize?
Or shall theyr ghosts that dide to doe vs good,
Plaine in their Tombes of our base cowardise?
Shall lamed Souldiours, and graue gray-haird men,
Poynt at vs in theyr bitter teares, and say,
See where they goe that haue theyr race forgot.
And rather chuse (vnarm'd) to serue with shame,
Then (arm'd) to saue their freedom and their fame.

Brutus.
sweare by heauen, th'Immortals highest throne,
Their Temples, Altars and theyr Images,
To see (for one,) that Brutus suffer not
His ancient liberty to be represt.
I freely marcht with Cæsar in hys warrs,
Not to be subiect, but to ayde his right.
But if (enuenom'd with ambitious thoughts)
He lyft his hand imperiously o're vs,
If he determyn but to raigne in Rome,
Or follow'd Pompey but to thys effect:
Or if (these ciuill discords now dissolu'd)
He render not the Empyre back to Rome,
Then shall he see, that Brutus thys day beares,
The selfe-same Armes to be aueng'd on hym.
And that thys hand (though Cæsar blood abhor,)
Shall toyle in his, which I am sorry for.
I loue, I loue him deerely. “But the loue
“That men theyr Country and theyr birth-right beare,
“Exceeds all loues, and deerer is by farre
“Our Countries loue, then friends or chyldren are.

Cassius.
If this braue care be nourisht in your blood,
Or if so franck a will your soule possesse,
Why hast we not euen while these words are vttred,
To sheathe our new-ground swords in Cæsars throate?
Why spend we day-light, and why dies he not,
That by his death we wretches may reuiue?
We stay too-long, I burne till I be there
To see this massacre, and send his ghost
To theyrs, whom (subtilly) he for Monarchie,
Made fight to death with show of liberty.

Bru.
Yet haply he (as Sylla whylom dyd,)
When he hath rooted ciuill warre from Rome,
Will there-withall discharge the powre he hath.

Cass.
Cæsar and Sylla, Brutus be not like.
Sylla (assaulted by the enemie)
Did arme himselfe (but in his owne defence)
Against both Cynnas host and Marius.
Whom when he had discomfited and chas'd,
And of his safety throughly was assur'd,
He layd apart the powre that he had got,
And gaue vp rule, for he desier'd it not.
Where Cæsar that in silence might haue slept,
Nor vrg'd by ought but his ambition,
Did breake into the hart of Italie.
And lyke rude Brennus brought his men to field,
Trauers'd the seas: And shortly after (backt
With wintered souldiers vs'd to conquering,)
He aym'd at vs, bent to exterminate,
Who euer sought to intercept his state.
Now, hauing got what he hath gaped for,
(Deere Brutus) thinke you Cæsar such a chyld,
Slightly to part with so great signiorie.
Belieue it not, he bought it deere you know,
And traueled too farre to leaue it so.

Brut.
But Cassius, Cæsar is not yet a King.

Cas.
No, but Dictator, in effect as much.
He doth what pleaseth hym, (a princely thing,)
And wherein differ they whose powre is such?

Brutus.
Hee is not bloody.

Cassius.
But by bloody iarres
he hath vnpeopled most part of the earth.
Both Gaule and Affrique perrisht by his warres.
Egypt, Emathia, Italy and Spayne,
Are full of dead mens bones by Cæsar slayne.
Th'infectious plague, and Famins bitternes,
Or th'Ocean (whom no pitty can asswage,)
Though they containe dead bodies numberles,
Are yet inferior to Cæsars rage.
Whom (monster-like) wyth his ambition,
Hath left more Tombes then ground to lay them on.

Brut.
Souldiers with such reproch should not be blam'd.

Cass.
He with his souldiers hath himselfe defam'd.

Bru.
Why then you thinke there is no praise in war.

Cass.
Yes, where the causes reasonable are.

Bru.
He hath enricht the Empire with newe states.

Cass.
Which with ambition now he ruinates.

Bru.
He hath reueng'd the Gaules old iniurie,
And made them subiect to our Romaine Lawes.

Cassius.
The restfull Almaynes with his crueltie,
He rashly styrd against vs without cause.
And hazarded our Cittie and our selues
Against a harmeles Nation, kindly giuen,
To whom we should do well (for some amends,)
To render him, and reconcile old frends.
These Nations did he purposely prouoke,
To make an Armie for his after-ayde,
Against the Romains, whom in pollicie
He train'd in warre to steale theyr signiorie.
“Like them that (stryuing at th'Olympian sports,
“To grace theselues with honor of the game)
“Annoynt theyr sinewes fit for wrestling,
“And (ere they enter) vse some exercise.
The Gaules were but a fore-game fecht about
For ciuill discord, wrought by Cæsars sleights,
Whom (to be King himselfe) he soone remou'd.
Teaching a people hating seruitude,
To fight for that that did theyr deaths conclude.

Bru.
The warrs once ended, we shall quickly know,
Whether he will restore the state or no.

Cas.
No Brutus, neuer looke to see that day,
For Cæsar holdeth signiorie too deere.
But know, while Cassius hath one drop of blood,
To feede this worthles body that you see,
What reck I death to doe so many good,
In spite of Cæsar, Cassius will be free.

Bru.
A generous or true enobled spirit,
Detests to learne what tasts of seruitude.

Cass.
Brutus I cannot serue nor see Rome yok'd,
No, let me rather dye a thousand deaths.
“The stiftneckt horses champe not on the bit,
“Nor meekely beare the rider but by force:
“The sturdie Oxen toyle not at the Plough,
“Nor yeeld vnto the yoke but by constraint.
Shall we then that are men, and Romains borne,
Submit vs to vnvrged slauerie?
Shall Rome that hath so many ouer-throwne,
Now make herselfe a subiect to her owne?
O base indignitie. A beardles youth,
Whom King Nicomides could ouer-reach,
Commaunds the world, and brideleth all the earth,
And like a Prince controls the Romulists.
Braue Romaine Souldier, sterne-borne sons of Mars,
And none, not one, that dares to vndertake
The intercepting of his tyrannie.
O Brutus speake, O say Seruilius,
Why cry you ayme, and see vs vsed thus?
But Brutus liues, and sees, and knowes, and feeles,
That there is one that curbs their Countries weale.
Yet (as he were the semblance, not the sonne,
Of noble Brutus, hys great Grandfather,)
As if he wanted hands, sence, sight, or hart,
He doth, deuiseth, sees nor dareth ought,
That may exstirpe or raze these tyrannies.
Nor ought doth Brutus that to Brute belongs,
But still increaseth by his negligence,
His owne disgrace, and Cæsars violence.
The wrong is great, and ouer-long endur'd;
We should haue practized, conspierd, coniur'd,
A thousand waies, and weapons to represse,
Or kill out-right this cause of our distresse.

Chorus.

Cæsar. Mar. Anthonie.
Cæsar.
O Rome that with thy pryde dost ouer-peare,
The worthiest Citties of the conquered world.
Whose honor got by famous victories,
Hath fild heauens fierie vaults with frightfull horror.
O lofty towres, O stately battlements,
O glorious temples, O proude Pallaces,
And you braue walls, bright heauens masonrie,
Grac'd with a thousand kingly diadems.
Are yee not styrred with a strange delight,
To see your Cæsars matchles victories?
And how your Empire and your praise begins
Through fame, which hee of stranger Nations wins?
O beautious Tyber, with thine easie streames,
That glide as smothly as a Parthian shaft;
Turne not thy crispie tydes like siluer curle,
Backe to thy grass-greene bancks to welcom vs?
And with a gentle murmure hast to tell
The foming Seas the honour of our fight?
Trudge not thy streames to Trytons Mariners
To bruite the prayses of our conquests past?
And make theyr vaunts to old Oceanus,
That hence-forth Tyber shall salute the seas,
More fam'd then Tyger or fayre Euphrates?
Now all the world (wel-nye) doth stoope to Rome.
The sea, the earth, and all is almost ours.
Be'it where the bright Sun with his neyghbor beames,
Doth early light the Pearled Indians.
Or where his Chariot staies to stop the day,
Tyll heauen vnlock the darknes of the night.
Be' it where the Sea is wrapt in Christall Ise,
Or where the Sommer doth but warme the earth.
Or heere, or there, where is not Rome renownd?
There lyues no King, (how great so e're he be,)
But trembleth if he once but heare of mee.
Cæsar is now earths fame, and Fortunes terror,
And Cæsars worth hath staynd old souldiers prayses.
Rome, speake no more of eyther Scipio,
Nor of the Fabij, or Fabritians,
Heere let the Decij and theyr glory die.
Cæsar hath tam'd more. Nations, tane more Townes,
And fought more battailes then the best of them.
Cæsar doth tryumph ouer all the world,
And all they scarcely conquered a nooke.
The Gaules that came to Tiber to carouse,
Dyd liue to see my souldiers drinke at Loyre;
And those braue Germains, true borne Martialists,
Beheld the swift Rheyn vnder-run mine Ensignes;
The Brittaines (lockt within a watry Realme,
And wald by Neptune,) stoopt to mee at last.
The faithles Moore, the fierce Numidian,
Th'earth that the Euxine sea makes somtymes marsh,
The stony-harted people that inhabite
Where seau'nfold Nilus doth disgorge it selfe,
Haue all been vrg'd to yeeld to my commaund.
Yea, euen this Cittie that hath almost made
An vniuersall conquest of the world.
And that braue warrier my brother in law,
That (ill aduis'd) repined at my glory.
Pompey that second Mars, whose haught renowne
And noble deeds, were greater then his fortunes.
Proou'd to his losse but euen in one assault
My hand, my hap, my hart exceeded his;
When the Thessalian fields were purpled ore
With eyther Armies murdred souldiers goe.
When hee (to conquering accustomed,)
Did (conquered) flie, his troopes discomforted.
Now Scipio, that long'd to shew himselfe
Discent of Affrican, (so fam'd for Armes)
He durst affront me and my warlike bands,
Vpon the Coastes of Lybia, till he lost
His scattred Armie: and to shun the scorne
Of being taken captiue, kild himselfe.
Now therefore let vs tryumph Anthony.
And rendring thanks to heauen as we goe
For brideling those that dyd maligne our glory,
Lets to the Capitoll.

Anth.
Come on braue Cæsar,
And crowne thy head, and mount thy Chariot.
Th'impatient people runne along the streets,
And in a route against thy gates they rushe,
To see theyr Cæsar after dangers past,
Made Conqueror and Emperor at last.

Cæsar.
I call to witnes heauens great Thunderer,
That gainst my will I haue maintaind this warre,
Nor thirsted I for conquests bought with blood.
I ioy not in the death of Cittizens.
But through my selfe-wild enemies despight,
And Romains wrong, was I constraind to fight.

Anth.
They sought t'eclipse thy fame, but destinie
Reuers'd th'effect of theyr ambition.
And Cæsars prayse increasd by theyr disgrace
That reckt not of his vertuous deeds: But thus
We see it fareth with the enuious.

Cæsar.
I neuer had the thought to iniure them.
How beit I neuer meant my greatnes should,
By any others greatnes be o're-ruld.
For as I am inferior to none,
So can I suffer no Superiors.

Anth.
Well Cæsar, now they are discomfited,
And Crowes are feasted with theyr carcases.
And yet I feare you haue too kindly sau'd
Those, that your kindnes hardly will requite.

Cæs.
Why Anthony, what would you wish mee doe?
Now shall you see that they will pack to Spaine,
And (ioyned with the Exiles there encampt,)
Vntill th'ill spyrit that doth them defend,
Doe bring their treasons to a bloody end.

Anth.
I feare not those that to theyr weapons flye,
And keepe theyr state in Spaine, in Spaine to die.

Cæs.
VVhom fear'st thou then Mark Anthony?

Anth.
The hatefull crue,
That wanting powre in fielde to conquer you,
Haue in theyr coward soules deuised snares
To murder thee, and take thee at vnwares.

Cæsar.
VVill those conspire my death that liue by mee?

Anth.
In conquered foes what credite can there be?

Cæsar.
Besides theyr liues, I did theyr goods restore.

Anth.
O but theyr Countries good concerns them more.

Cæsar.
What, thinke they mee to be their Countries foe?

Anth.
No, but that thou vsurp'ft the right they owe.

Cæsar.
To Rome haue I submitted mighty things.

Anth.
Yet Rome endures not the commaund of Kings.

Cæs.
Who dares to contradict our Emporie?

Anth.
Those whom thy rule hath rob'd of liberty.

Cæs.
I feare them not whose death is but deferd.

Anth.
I feare my foe vntill he be interd.

Cæs.
A man may make his foe his friend you know.

Anth.
A man may easier make his friend his foe.

Cæs.
Good deeds the cruelst hart to kindnes bring,

Anth.
But resolution is a deadly thing.

Cæs.
If Cittizens my kindnes haue forgot,
whom shall I then not feare?

Anth.
Those that are not.

Cæs.
What, shall I slay them all that I suspect?

Anth.
Els cannot Cæsars Emporie endure.

Cæs.
Rather I will my lyfe and all neglect.
Nor labour I my vaine life to assure.
But so to die, as dying I may liue,
And leauing off this earthly Tombe of myne,
Ascend to heauen vpon my winged deeds.
And shall I not haue liued long enough
That in so short a time am so much fam'd?
Can I too-soone goe taste Cocytus flood?
No Anthony, Death cannot iniure vs,
“For he liues long that dyes victorious.

Anthony.
Thy prayses show thy life is long enough,
But for thy friends and Country all too-short.
Should Cæsar lyue as long as Nestor dyd,
Yet Rome may wish his life eternized.

Cæsar.
Heauen sets our time, with heauen may nought dispence.

Anth.
But we may shorten time with negligence.

Cæs.
But Fortune and the heauens haue care of vs.

Anth.
Fortune is fickle, Heauen imperious.

Cæs.
VVhat shall I then doe?

Anth.
As befits your state,
Maintaine a watchfull guard about your gate.

Cæs.
VVhat more assurance may our state defend
Then loue of those that doe on vs attend?

Anth.
There is no hatred more if it be mou'd,
Then theirs whom we offend, and once belou'd.

Cæs.
Better it is to die then be suspitious.

Anth.
T'is wisdom yet not to be credulous.

Cæsar.
The quiet life that carelesly is ledd,
Is not alonely happy in this world,
But Death it selfe doth sometime pleasure vs.
That death that comes vnsent for or vnseene,
And suddainly doth take vs at vnware,
Mee thinks is sweetest; And if heauen were pleas'd,
I could desire that I might die so well.
The feare of euill doth afflict vs more,
The th'euill it selfe, though it be nere so sore.

A Chorus of Cæsars friends.