[Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.]
Brutus
Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
Clitus
Statilius showed the torchlight, 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.
[Brutus whispers to Clitus.]
Clitus
What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world!
Brutus
Clitus
Brutus
[Brutus whispers to Dardanius.]
Dardanius
Clitus
Dardanius
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
Brutus
The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me
Two several times by night — at Sardis once,
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields.
Volumnius
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 trumpets.]
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.
[Trumpets continue.]
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 labored to attain this hour.
[Trumpets sound. Cry from off stage, 'Fly, fly, fly!’]
Clitus
Brutus
[Exit 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 honor 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. — Caesar, now be still.
I killed not thee with half so good a will.
[Runs onto his sword and dies. Trumpets sound the call to stop pursuing the enemy. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and the army.]
Octavius
[Indicating Strato] 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 honor 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
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 tonight shall lie,
Most like a soldier, ordered honorably.
So call the field to rest, and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day.
[Exit.]
