Octa.
Now, Antony, our hopes are answered,
You said the Enemy would not come down,
But keep the Hills and upper Regions;
It proves not so; their Battels are at hand,
They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
Answering before we do demand of them.

Ant.
Tut I am in their Bosoms, and I know
Wherefore they do it; they could be content
To visit other Places, and come down
With fearful bravery; thinking by this Face
To fasten in our thoughts that they have Courage.
But 'tis not so. Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
Prepare you Generals,
The Enemy comes on in gallant shew;

Their bloody Sign of Battel is hung out,
And something to be done immediately.

Ant.
Octavius, lead your Battel softly on
Upon the left Hand of the even Field.

Octa.
Upon the right Hand I, keep thou the left.

Ant.
Why do you cross me in this exigent?

Octa.
I do not cross you; but I will do so. [March. Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army.

Bru.
They stand, and would have Parley.

Cas.
Stand fast, Titinius, we must out and talk.

Octa.
Mark Antony, shall we give sign of Battel?

Ant.
No, Cæsar, we will answer on their Charge.
Make forth, the Generals would have some Words.

Octa.
Stir not until the Signal.

Bru.
Words before Blows: is it so, Countrymen?

Octa.
Not that we love Words better, as you do.

Bru.
Good Words are better than bad Strokes, Octavius.

Ant.
In your bad Strokes, Brutus, you give good Words.
Witness the hole you made in Cæsar's Heart,
Crying, Long live, hail Cæsar.

Cas.
Antony,
The posture of your Blows are yet unknown;
But for your Words, they rob the Hibla Bees,
And leave them Honey-less.

Ant.
Not stringless too.

Bru.
O yes, and soundless too;
For you have stoln their buzzing, Antony,
And very wisely threat before you sting.

Ant.
Villains! you did not so, when your vile Daggers
Hack one another in the sides of Cæsar.
You shew'd your Teeth like Apes, and fawn'd like Hounds,
And bow'd like Bond-men, kissing Cæsar's Feet;
Whilst damned Caska, like a Cur, behind
Struck Cæsar on the Neck. O you Flatterers!

Cas.
Flatterers! Now Brutus thank your self;
This Tongue had not offended so to day,
If Cassius might have rul'd.

Octa.
Come, come, the Cause. If arguing make us swet,
The proof of it will turn to redder Drops.
Behold, I draw a Sword against Conspirators,

When think you that the Sword goes up again?
Never 'till Cæsar's three and thirty Wounds
Be well aveng'd; or 'till another Cæsar
Have added Slaughter to the Sword of Tirators.

Bru.
Cæsar, thou canst not dye by Traitors Hands,
Unless thou bringst them with thee.

Octa.
So I hope;
I was not born to dye on Brutus Sword.

Bru.
O if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
Young Man, thou couldst not dye more Honourable.

Cas.
A peevish School-boy, worthless of such Honour,
Join'd with a Masker and a Reveller.

Ant.
Old Cassius still.

Octa.
Come, Antony, away;
Defiance, Traitors, hurl we in your Teeth,
If you dare fight to day, come to the Field,
If not, when you have Stomachs. [Exit Octavius, Antony, and Army.

Cas.
Why now blow Wind, swell Billow, and swim Bark;
The Storm is up, and all is on the Hazard.

Bru.
Ho, Lucilius,—hark a word with you. [Lucilius and Messala stand forth.

Luc.
My Lord. [Brutus speaks apart to Lucilius.

Cas.
Messala.

Mes.
What says my General?

Cas.
Messala, this is my Birth-Day; as this very Day
Was Cassius born. Give me thy Hand, Messala;
Be thou my Witness, that against my will,
As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set
Upon one Battel all our Liberties.
You know that I held Epicurus strong,
And his Opinion; now I change my Mind,
And partly credit things that do presage.
Coming from Sardis, on our foremost Ensign,
Two mighty Eagles fell, and there they pearch'd,
Gorging and feeding from our Soldiers Hands,
Who to Philippi here consorted us:
This Morning are they fled away, and gone,
And in their steads, do Ravens, Crows and Kites,
Ply o'er our Heads, and downward look on us

As we were sickly Prey; their shadows seem
A Canopy most fatal, under which
Our Army lies, ready to give up the Ghost.

Mes.
Believe not so.

Cas.
I but believe it partly;
For I am fresh of Spirit, and resolv'd
To meet all Peril, very constantly.

Bru.
Even so, Lucilius.

Cas.
Now most Noble Brutus,
The Gods to Day stand friendly; that we may
Lovers in Peace, lead on our Days to Age.
But since the Affairs of Men rest still incertain,
Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
If we do lose this Battel, then is this
The very last time we shall speak together?
What are you then determined to do?

Bru.
Even by the rule of that Philosophy,
By which I did blame Cato, for the Death
Which he did give himself, I know not how;
But I do find it cowardly, and vile,
For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
The time of Life, arming my self with patience,
To stay the Providence of some high Powers,
That govern us below.

Cas.
Then if we lose this Battel,
You are contented to be led in triumph,
Through the Streets of Rome.

Bru.
No, Cassius, no; think not thou, Noble Roman,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome,
He bears too great a Mind. But this same Day
Must end that Work, that Ides of March begun.
And whether we shall meet again, I know not;
Therefore our everlasting farewel take;
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Cassius;
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile,
If not, why then, this parting was well made.

Cas.
For ever, and for ever, farewel, Brutus;
If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made.

Bru.
Why then lead on. O that a Man might know
The end of this Day's Business, e'er it come;
But it sufficeth, that the Day will end,
And then the end is known. Come ho, away. [Exeunt. Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.

Bru.
Ride, ride, Messala, ride and give these Bills
Unto the Legions, on the other side. [Loud Alarum.
Let them set on at once; for I perceive
But cold demeanor in Octavio's Wing;
And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
Ride, ride, Messala, let them all come down. [Exeunt. Alarums. Enter Cassius and Titinius.

Cas.
O look, Titinius, look, the Villains fly!
My self have to mine own turn'd Enemy;
This Ensign here of mine was turning back,
I slew the Coward, and did take it from him.

Tit.
O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early,
Who having some advantage on Octavius
Took it too eagerly; his Soldiers fell to spoil,
Whilst we by Antony are all inclos'd. Enter Pindarus.

Pind.
Fly further off my Lord, fly further off,
Mark Antony, is in your Tents, my Lord;
Fly therefore, Noble Cassius, fly far off.

Cas.
This Hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius,
Are those my Tents where I perceive the Fire?

Tit.
They are, my Lord.

Cas.
Titinius, if thou lovest me,
Mount thou my Horse, and hide thy Spurs in him,
'Till he have brought thee up to yonder Troops,
And here again, that I may rest assur'd,
Whether yond Troops are Friend or Enemy.

Tit.
I will be here again, even with a thought. [Exit.

Cas.
Go, Pindarus, get thither on that Hill,
My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
And tell me what thou not'st about the Field.
This Day I breathed first, time is come round,
And where I did begin, there shall I end,
My Life is run his Compass. Sirrah, what News?

Pind. above.
O, my Lord!

Cas.
What News?

Pind.
Titinius is enclosed round about
With Horsemen, that make to him on the Spur,
Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him;
Now Titinius! Now some Light—O he lights too—
He's ta'en— [Shout.
And hark, they shout for Joy.

Cas.
Come down, behold no more;
O Coward that I am, to live so long,
To see my best Friend ta'en before my Face! Enter Pindarus.
Come hither Sirrah; in Parthia did I take thee Prisoner,
And then I swore thee, saving of thy Life,
That whatsoever I did bid thee do,
Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine Oath,
Now be a Freeman, and with this good Sword
That ran through Cæsar's Bowels, search this Bosom.
Stand not to answer; here, take thou the Hilts,
And when my Face is cover'd, as 'tis now,
Guide thou the Sword—Cæsar thou art reveng'd,
Even with the Sword that kill'd thee. [Kills him.

Pin.
So, I am free, yet would not so have been,
Durst I have done my Will, O Cassius,
Far from this Country Pindarus shall run,
Where never Roman shall take Note of him. [Exit. Enter Titinius, and Messala.

Mes.
It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius
Is overthrown by Noble Brutus Power,
As Cassius Legions are by Antony.

Tit.
These Tidings will well comfort Cassius.

Mes.
Where did you leave him?

Tit.
All disconsolate,
With Pindarus his Bondman, on this Hill.

Mes.
Is not that he that lyes upon the Ground?

Tit.
He lyes not like the Living. O my Heart!

Mes.
Is not that he?

Tit.
No, this was he, Messala,
But Cassius is no more. O setting Sun!
As in thy red Rays thou dost sink to Night,

So in his red Blood Cassius Day is set;
The Son of Rome is set. Our Day is gone,
Clouds, Dews, and Dangers come; our Deeds are done;
Mistrust of my Success hath done this Deed.

Mes.
Mistrust of good Success hath done this Deed.
O hateful Error, Melancholy's Child!
Why dost thou shew to the apt thoughts of Men,
The things that are not? O Error soon conceiv'd,
Thou never com'st unto a happy Birth,
But kill'st the Mother that engendred thee.

Tit.
What Pindarus? Where art thou, Pindarus?

Mes.
Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet
The Noble Brutus, thrusting this report
Into his Ears; I may say, thrusting it;
For piercing Steel, and Darts invenomed
Shall be as welcome to the Ears of Brutus,
As tydings of this sight.

Tit.
Hye you, Messala,
And I will seek for Pindarus the while.
Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?
Did I not meet thy Friends, and did not they
Put on my Brows this wreath of Victory,
And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their Shouts?
Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing.
But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow.
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding. Brutus come apace,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
By your leave, Gods—This is a Roman's part, [Stabs himself.
Come Cassius Sword, and find Titinius Heart. [Dies. Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.

Bru.
Where, where, Messala, doth his Body lye?

Mes.
Lo yonder, and Titinius mourning it.

Bru.
Titinius Face is upward.

Cato.
He is slain.

Bru.
O Julius Cæsar, thou art mighty yet,
Thy Spirit walks abroad, and turns our Swords
In our own proper Entrails. [Low Alarums.

Cato.
Brave Titinius!
Look where he have not crown'd dead Cassius.

Bru.
Are yet two Romans living such as these?
Thou last of all the Romans, fare thee well;
It is impossible that ever Rome
Should breed thy Fellow. Friends, I owe more Tears
To this dead Man, than you shall see me pay.
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time—
Come therefore, and to Tharsus send his Body,
His Funerals shall not be in our Camp,
Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius come,
And come, young Cato, let us to the Field,
Labio and Fluvius, set our Battels on;
'Tis three a Clock, and, Romans, yet e'er Night,
We shall try Fortune in a second fight. [Exeunt. Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lucilius, and Flavius.

Bru.
Yet Countrymen, O yet, hold up your Heads.

Cato.
What Bastard doth not? who will go with me?
I will proclaim my Name about the Field.
I am the Son of Marcus Cato, ho!
A Foe to Tyrants, and my Country's Friend.
I am the Son of Marcus Cato, ho. Enter Soldiers and fight.

Bru.
And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I.
Brutus my Country's Friend; know me for Brutus.

Luc.
O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
Why now thou diest as bravely as Titinius,
And may'st be honour'd being Cato's Son.

Sold.
Yield, or thou diest.

Luc.
Only I yield to die;
There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight;
Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his Death.

Sold.
We must not; a Noble Prisoner. Enter Antony.

2 Sold.
Room ho! tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.

1 Sold.
I'll tell thee News, here comes the General,
Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my Lord.

Ant.
Where is he?

Luc.
Safe Antony, Brutus is safe enough.

I dare assure thee, that no Enemy
Shall ever take alive the Noble Brutus:
The Gods defend him from so great a shame,
When you do find him or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant.
This is not Brutus, Friend, but I assure you,
A prize no less in worth; keep this Man safe,
Give him all kindness. I had rather have
Such Men my Friends, than Enemies. Go on,
And see where Brutus be alive or dead,
And bring us word unto Octavius Tent,
How every thing is chanc'd. [Exeunt. Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.

Bru.
Come, poor remains of Friends, rest on this Rock.

Cli.
Statillius shew'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 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 my self.

Bru.
Hark thee, Dardanius—

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,
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 Alarum.

It is more worthy, to leap in our selves,
Than tarry 'till they push us. Good Voluminus,
Thou knowest that we two went to School together;
Even for that, our love of old, I prethee
Hold thou my Sword's Hilt, while 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.

Bru.
Farewel to you, and you, and you, Volumnius.
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewel to thee, to 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.

Cli.
Fly, my Lord, fly—

Bru.
Hence; I will follow;
I prethee, 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, my Lord.

Bru.
Farewel, 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 Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucilius, and the Army.

Octa.
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.

Luc.
So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
That thou hast prov'd Lucillius saying true.

Octa.
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.

Octa.
Do so, good Messala.

Mes.
How died my Lord, 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 mixt in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the World; this was a Man.

Octa.
According to his Virtue, let us use him,
With all respect, and rites of Burial.
Within my Tent his Bones to Night shall lye,
Most like a Soldier, ordered honourably.
So call the Field to rest, and let's away,
To part the Glories of this happy Day. [Exeunt omnes.

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