Another Part of the Field. |
| |
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. |
| |
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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