William Shakespeare: Julius Caesar

ACT IV. 3. SCENE III. within the tent of Brutus. (continued)

BRUTUS.
Speak no more of her.--Give me a bowl of wine.--
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

[Drinks.]

CASSIUS.
My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.

[Drinks.]

BRUTUS.
Come in, Titinius!--

[Exit Lucius.]

[Re-enter Titinius, with Messala.]

Welcome, good Messala.--
Now sit we close about this taper here,
And call in question our necessities.

CASSIUS.
Portia, art thou gone?

BRUTUS.
No more, I pray you.--
Messala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius and Mark Antony
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

MESSALA.
Myself have letters of the selfsame tenour.

BRUTUS.
With what addition?

MESSALA.
That by proscription and bills of outlawry
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus
Have put to death an hundred Senators.

BRUTUS.
There in our letters do not well agree:
Mine speak of seventy Senators that died
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.

CASSIUS.
Cicero one!

MESSALA.
Cicero is dead,
And by that order of proscription.--
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?

BRUTUS.
No, Messala.

MESSALA.
Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?

BRUTUS.
Nothing, Messala.

MESSALA.
That, methinks, is strange.

BRUTUS.
Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?

MESSALA.
No, my lord.