Another part of the field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS BRUTUS Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. CLITUS Statilius show'd the torch-light, but, my lord,
He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain. BRUTUS Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word;
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.
Whispers CLITUS What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. BRUTUS Peace then! no words. CLITUS I'll rather kill myself. BRUTUS Hark thee, Dardanius.
Whispers DARDANIUS Shall I do such a deed? CLITUS O Dardanius! DARDANIUS O Clitus! CLITUS What ill request did Brutus make to thee? DARDANIUS To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. CLITUS
Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes. BRUTUS Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word. VOLUMNIUS What says my lord? BRUTUS Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Caesar 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. VOLUMNIUS Not so, my lord. BRUTUS Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have
beat us to the pit:
Low alarums 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. VOLUMNIUS That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
Alarum still CLITUS Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here. BRUTUS 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!' CLITUS Fly, my lord, fly. BRUTUS 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? STRATO Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord. BRUTUS Farewell, good Strato.
Runs on his sword Caesar, now be still:
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
Dies Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the army OCTAVIUS What man is that? MESSALA My master's man. Strato, where is thy master? STRATO 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. LUCILIUS So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. OCTAVIUS All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? STRATO Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. OCTAVIUS Do so, good Messala. MESSALA How died my master, Strato? STRATO I held the sword, and he did run on it.
MESSALA Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my master. ANTONY This was the noblest Roman of them all:
All the conspirators save only he
Did that they did in
envy of great Caesar;
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!' OCTAVIUS 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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