SCENE V.-Another part of the Field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and 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. Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. Bru. Peace, then, no words. Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius! Cli. O Dardanius! Dar. O Clitus! [Whispering him. I'll rather kill myself. [Whispers him. Shall I do such a deed? Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? That it runs over even at his eyes. Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word. Bru. Why, this, Volumnius: Not so, my lord. Vol. [Low alarums. Good Volumnius, It is more worthy to leap in ourselves Thou know'st that we two went to school together: Hold thou my sword-hilts whilst I run on it. [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 So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, [Alarum. Cry within, "Fly, fly, fly!" Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. Hence! I will follow. [Exeunt CLI., DAR., and VOL. I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Stra. Give me your hand first: fare you well, my lord. Bru. Farewell, good Strato.-Cæsar, now be still: I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. [He runs on his sword, and dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and Army; MESSALA and LUCILIUS, prisoners. 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? Mes. How died my master, Strato? Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. 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; And common good to all, made one of them. So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up Oct. According to his virtue, let us use him [Exeunt. |