[Servants lie down.]
LUCIUS.
I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
BRUTUS.
Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
LUCIUS.
Ay, my lord, an’t please you.
BRUTUS.
It does, my boy.
I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
LUCIUS.
It is my duty, sir.
BRUTUS.
I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
LUCIUS.
I have slept, my lord, already.
BRUTUS.
It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again;
I will not hold thee long. If I do live,
I will be good to thee.
[Lucius plays and sings till he falls asleep.]