1 He lies tonight within seven leagues of Rome.
2 I will not have it so; lie down, good sirs, It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.
3 Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.
4 I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep; It may be I shall raise you by-and-by On business to my brother Cassius.
5 Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper, thus seal'd up, and I am sure It did not lie there when I went to bed.
6 But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
7 This it is: 'Tis better that the enemy seek us; So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence, whilst we, lying still, Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness.'
8 This morning are they fled away and gone, And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites Fly o'er our heads, and downward look on us, As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
9 If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolv'd How Caesar hath deserv'd to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus Thorough the hazards of this untrod state, With all true faith.