Cato. Brave Titinius!

Look whe'r he have not crown'd dead Caffius!

f

Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these ?

Thou last of all the Romans, fare thee well!

It is impossible, that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow. -Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.-
I shall find time, Caffius, I shall find time.-
Come, therefore, and to Thassos fend 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.

SCENE IV.

Another Part of the Field.

[Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Cato, Lucilius, and others.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, 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. [Exit. 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.
1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest.

Luc. Only I yield to die :

There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight;

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

[Offering money.

I Sold. We must not.-A noble prisoner!

2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en..

■ Sold. I'll tell the news.-Here comes the general:

Enter Antony.

Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.
Ant. Where is he?

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough :

I dare affure 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 see whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead :
And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,

How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt.

being Cato's fon.]-having approv'd thyself worthy of such a fire, * Only I yield to die:] -On this sole condition, that I may die.

SCENE

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. O, Dardanius!

Dar. O, 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 so, my lord.

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.

Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes;

Our enemies have beat us to the pit :

[Alarum.

It

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-hilts, whilst I run on it.

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

[Alarum ftill.

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 asleep;
Farewel to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
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.

[Alarum. Cry within. Fly, Aly, fly.

Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. (Exeunt Clitus, Dar, and Vol.

Bru. Hence; I will follow.

I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord :

Thou art a fellow of a good refpect;

Thy life hath had some smack of honour in it :
Hold then my fword, 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 bis fword, and dies.

Alarum.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lu

cilius, and the army.

Ofta. 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 man else hath honour by his death.

Luc. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.

Ofta. 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.
Ofta. 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,
Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.-
So, call the field to rest: and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day.

[Exeunt.