Servants

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.]

Lucius

This is a sleepy tune. O murd’rous slumber, Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. If thou dost nod, thou break’st thy instrument; I’ll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night. Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn’d down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. 

 Enter the Ghost of Caesar.

Ghost of Caesar

How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou anything? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That mak’st my blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art. 

GHOST. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. 

BRUTUS. Why com’st thou? 

GHOST. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. 

BRUTUS. Well; then I shall see thee again? 

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