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.

I will not have it so: lie down, good sirs; It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. Look, Lucius, here’s the book I sought for so; I put it in the pocket of my gown. Varro and Claudius lie down.

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?

It does, my boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

I should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest.