Another Part of the Field. |
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Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS. |
Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. |
Cli. Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my lord, |
He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain. |
Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word; |
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. [Whispers. |
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. [Whispers. |
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 Cæsar 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 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 prithee, |
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. |
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still. |
Cli. Fly, fly, my lord! there is no tarrying here. |
Bru. Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius. |
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; |
Farewell 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, fly, fly!' |
Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. |
Bru. Hence! I will follow. [Exeunt CLITUS, DARDANIUS, and VOLUMNIUS. |
I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: |
Thou art a fellow of a good respect; |
Thy life hath had some smatch 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. Farewell, good Strato.—[He runs on his sword.] Cæsar, now be still; |
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. [Dies. |
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Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and Army. |
Oct. 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. |
Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, |
That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true. |
Oct. 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. |
Oct. 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 Cæsar; |
He only, in a general honest 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!' |
Oct. 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. |
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