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

Lucil. You shall not come to them

Poet. Nothing but death shall stay me

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

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

Cas. Beare with him Brutus, 'tis his fashion

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

Cas. Away, away be gone.

Exit Poet

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

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

Bru. Lucius, a bowle of Wine

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

Bru. O Cassius, I am sicke of many greefes

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

Bru. No man beares sorrow better. Portia is dead

Cas. Ha? Portia? Bru. She is dead

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Bru. With what Addition

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

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

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

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

Messa. That me thinkes is strange

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

Bru. Now as you are a Roman tell me true

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

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

Messa. Euen so great men, great losses shold indure

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

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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