CATO. He is flain.

BRU. O Julius Cæfar, thou art mighty yet! Thy fpirit walks abroad, and turns our fwords In our own proper entrails.

CATO. Brave Titinius!

[Low alarums.

Look, whe'r he have not crown'd dead Caffius!

BRU. Are yet two Romans living fuch as thefe ?— The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!

It is impoffible, that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow.-Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man, than you fhall fee me pay.—
I fhall find time, Caffius, I fhall find time.—
Come, therefore, and to Thaffos fend his body;
His funerals fhall not be in our camp,

Left it discomfort us. Lucilius, come ;

1

And come, young Cato; let us to the field.—,
Labeo, and Flavius, fet our battles on:-
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight.

SCENE IV. Another Part of the Field.

[Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter fighting, SOLDIERS of both armies; then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and Others.

BRU. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads! CATO. What baftard doth not? Who will go with me? I will proclaim my name about the field :

I am the fon of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;

I am the fon of Marcus Cato, ho!

[charges the enemy.

BRU. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;

Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus. [Exit, charging the enemy. CATO is overpowered, and falls. 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 fon.

I SOLD. Yield, or thou dieft.

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.

[Offering money.

I SOLD. We must not.-A noble prisoner!

2 SOLD. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. I SOLD. I'll tell the news.-Here comes the general:Enter ΑΝΤΟΝΥ.

Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.

ANT. Where is he?

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is fafe enough : I dare affure thee, that no enemy

Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :

The gods defend him from fo 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 affure you,
A prize no less in worth: keep this man fafe,
Give him all kindness: I had rather have

Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
And fee whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead:
And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

SCENE V. Another Part of the Field.

[Exeunt.

Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and

VOLUMNIUS.

BRU. Come, poor remains of friends, reft on this rock. CLI. Statilius fhow'd the torch-light; but, my lord,

He came not back; he is or ta'en, or flain.

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!
DAR. I do fuch a deed?
CLI. O, Dardanius!

DAR. O, Clitus!

[whispers him.

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; lift a word,
VOL. What fays my lord?

BRU. Why, this, Volumnius:

The ghost of Cæfar 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 fo, my lord.

BRU. Nay, I am fure it is, Volumnius.

Thou fee'ft 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'ft, that we two went to school together;
Even for that our love of old, I pray thee,
Hold thou my fword-hilts, whilft I run on it.
VOL. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.

[Alarum ftill.

CLI. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.

BRU. Farewell to you ;-and you ;-and
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 fhall have glory by this lofing day,
More than Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conqueft fhall attain unto.

you, Volum

So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue

Hath almost ended his life's hiftory:

[nius.

Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would reft,

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 thee.

[Exeunt CLITUS, DARDANIUS, and VOLUMNIUS.

I pr'ythee, Strato, ftay thou by thy lord:

Thou art a fellow of a good refpect;

Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it :
Hold then my fword, 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.-Cæfar, now be ftill;

I kill'd not thee with half fo good a will.

[He runs on bis fword, 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 mafter? STRA. Free from the bondage you are in, Meffala ; The

conquerors can but make a fire of him;

For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man elfe hath honour by his death.

Luc. So Brutus fhould be found.-I thank thee, Brutus, That thou haft prov'd Lucilius' faying true.

OCT. All that ferv'd Brutus, I will entertain them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
STRA. Ay, if Meffala will prefer me to you.
OCT. Do fo, Meffala.

MES. How died my mafter, Strato?

STRA. I held the fword, 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 nobleft Roman of them all:
All the confpirators, fave only he,

Did that they did in envy of great Cæfar;
He, only, in a general honeft thought,
And 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 respect, and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Moft like a foldier, order'd honourably.-
So, call the field to reft: and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day.

[Exeunt.