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And see whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead :
SCENE V.-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 torchlight; 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.
[Whispering. 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 him. 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,
Bru, Come hither, good Volumnius : list a word.
Why, this, Volumnius :
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.
(Alarúm 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, Ay, Ay! 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,
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,
MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and their Army. Oct. What man is that? Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy
master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in,
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.
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 mixed 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.