1

Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,

As tidings of this fight.

Tit. Hie you, Meffala,

And I will feek for Pindarus the while.

[Exit MES

-Why didst thou send me forth, brave Caffius?

Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they

Put on my brows this wreath of victory,

And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their

shouts?

Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing.

But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding.-Brutus, come apace;
And see how I regarded Caius Caffius.
By your leave, Gods: This is a Roman's part;

[Stabs himself. Come, Caffius' fword, and find Titinius' heart. [Dies.

Alarm. Enter BRUTUS, MESSALA, young CATO,
STRATO, VOLUMNIUS, and LUCILIUS.

Bru. Where, where, Mesfala, doth his body lie?
Mes. Lo, yonder; and Titinius mourning it.
Bru. Titinius' face is upward.

Cato. He is flain.

Bru. Oh Julius Cæfar, thou art mighty yet!

Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our fwords
In our own proper entrails.

Cato. Brave Titinius!

[Low Alarms.

Look, whether he have not crown'd dead Caffius!Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these ? Thou last of all the Romans! fare thee well! It is impoffible, that ever Rome Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears To this dead man, than you shall fee me pay.I shall find time, Caffius, I shall find time.Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body; His funeral shall not be in our camp, Left it discomfort us. Lucilius, come ;And come, young Cato; let us to the field.Labeo, and Flavius, set our battles on :'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night We shall try fortune in a fecond fight.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Alarm. Enter BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, oh yet, hold up your heads!
Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?
I will proclaim my name about the field :-
I am the son of Marcus Cato,-ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the son of Marcus Cato,-ho!

Enter Soldiers, and fight.

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I ;

Brutus, my country's friend: Know me for Brutus. [Ex. Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down?

Why, now thou dy'st as bravely as Titinius;

And may'st be honour'd being Cato's fon.

Sold. Yield, or thou dieft.

Luc. Only I yield to die :

There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;

[Offering Money.

Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.

Sold. We must not.-A noble prifoner !

Enter ANTONY.

2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. I Sold. I'll tell the news. Here comes the general :

Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.

Ant. Where is he?

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough :

I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The Gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you,
A prize no less in worth: keep this man safe,
Give him all kindness: I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
And fee if Brutus be alive, or dead :
And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt

SCENE V.

Another Part of the Field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, Strato, and VOLUMNIUS.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. Cli. Statilius shew'd the torch-light; but, my lord, He came not back, he is or ta'en, or flain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: Slaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

[Whispering.

Cli. What I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Bru. Peace then, no words.

Cli. I'll rather kill myself.

Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius !

Dar. Shall I do such a deed?

Cli. Oh, Dardanius !

Dar. Oh, Clitus!

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee ?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,

That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.
Vol. What says my lord?

Bru. Why this, Volumnius;

The ghost of Cæfar hath appear'd to me
Two several times by night at Sardis, once ;
And, this last night, here in Philippi' fields.
I know, my hour is come.

Vol. Not fo, my lord.

[Alarm.

Bru. Nay, I am fure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit; It is more worthy, to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st, that we two went to school together; Even for that, our love of old, I pray thee, Hold thou my sword's hilt, while I run on it.

Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarm lill.

Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here. Bru. Farewel to you ;-and you ;-and you, Volum

nius.

Strato, thou hast been all this while afleep;

Countrymen,

Farewel to thee too, Strato.
My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life,
I found no man, but he was true to me.

I shall have glory by this losing day,
More than Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.

So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue

Hath almost ended his life's history :

Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,

That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

[Alarm. Cry within. Fly, fly, fly.

Cli. Fly, my lord, fly.

Bru. Hence; I will follow.

-I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord :
Thou art a fellow of a good respect;

Thy life hath had fome smack of honour in it :
Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato ?

Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord.
Bru. Farewel, good Strato. Cæfar, now be still;

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.

[He runs on his Sword, and dies.

Alarm. Retreat. Enter ANTONY, OCTAVIUS, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the Army.

Octa. What man is that?

Mes. My master's man.--Strato, where is thy master ? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala;

The conquerors can but make a fire of him:

For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no one else hath honour by his death.

Luc. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,

That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.

Octa. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them.

-Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me ?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Octa. Do so, good Messala.
Mes. How died my master, Strato ?
Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee,

That did the latest service to my master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all:

All the conspirators, save only he,

Did that they did in envy of great Cæfar;
He, only, in a general honeft thought,
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, This was a man !

Olta. According to his virtue, let us use him,
With all respect, and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Moft like a foldier, order'd honourably.-
So, call the field to reft: and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt omnes.