Bru.
Yet, Countrymen, oh 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. [Exit.

Luc.
Oh young and noble Cato, art thou down?
Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius;
And, may'st be honour'd, ^{4 note}being Cato's Son.

Sold.
Yield, or thou diest.

^{5 note}

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 the 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 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 if Brutus be alive or dead;
And bring us word unto Octavius' Tent,
How every thing is chanc'd. [Exeunt.

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