Luc. It is my duty Sir
Brut. I should not vrge thy duty past thy might,
I know yong bloods looke for a time of rest
Luc. I haue slept my Lord already
Bru. It was well done, and thou shalt sleepe againe:
I will not hold thee long. If I do liue,
I will be good to thee.
Musicke, and a Song.
This is a sleepy Tune: O Murd'rous slumber!
Layest thou thy Leaden Mace vpon my Boy,
That playes thee Musicke? Gentle knaue good night:
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee:
If thou do'st nod, thou break'st thy Instrument,
Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night.
Let me see, let me see; is not the Leafe turn'd downe
Where I left reading? Heere it is I thinke.
Enter the Ghost of Caesar.
How ill this Taper burnes. Ha! Who comes heere?
I thinke it is the weakenesse of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous Apparition.
It comes vpon me: Art thou any thing?
Art thou some God, some Angell, or some Diuell,
That mak'st my blood cold, and my haire to stare?
Speake to me, what thou art
Ghost. Thy euill Spirit Brutus?
Bru. Why com'st thou?
Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi
Brut. Well: then I shall see thee againe?
Ghost. I, at Philippi
Brut. Why I will see thee at Philippi then:
Now I haue taken heart, thou vanishest.
Ill Spirit, I would hold more talke with thee.
Boy, Lucius, Varrus, Claudio, Sirs: Awake:
Claudio