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. [Whispering. ^note

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. [Whispering. ^note

Dar.
Shall ^note 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: [Low alarums. ^note
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 ^note,
Hold thou my sword-hilts ^note, whilst ^note 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. ^note

Bru.
Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius.
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen, ^note
My heart doth joy that yet in ^note 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 ^note vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's ^note history:
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour. [Alarum. ^note Cry within, ‘Fly, fly, fly!’

Cli.
Fly, my lord, fly.

Bru.
Hence! I will follow ^note. [Exeunt ^note 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 ^note of honour in it ^note:
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. [Runs on his sword.] Cæsar, now be still:
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. ^note [Dies. Alarum. ^note Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, ^note Messala, Lucilius, and the army. ^{note note}

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. ^note
So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.

Oct.
All that served 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 ^note Messala.

Mes.
How died my master ^note, Strato?

Stra.
I held the sword, and he did run on it.

Mes.
Octavius, then take him ^note 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 ^note,
Did that ^note they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He only, in a general honest ^note thought
And ^note 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 ^note respect and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Most like a soldier, order'd ^note honourably.
So call the field to rest, and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt. ^note

NOTES. ^note