.. Took it too eagerly; his foldiers fell to spoil, Enter Pindarus. Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; Caf. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius, Caf. Titinius, if thou lov'ft me, Mount thou my horfe, and hide thy fpurs in him,' Tit. I will be here again, ev'n with a thought. [Exit. And tell me what thou note'ft about the field. Caf. What news? Pind. Titinius is enclosed round about Caf. Come down, behold no more; Enter Pindarus. Come hither, firrah ; In Parthia did I take thee prisoner; And then I fwore thee, faving of thy life, 'That whatsoever I did bid thee do, [Shout. Thou shouldst attempt it. Come, now keep thine oath, Now be a freeman; and with this good fword, That That ran through Cafar's bowels, fearch this bofom. Guide thou the sword Ev'n with the fword that kill'd thee. Cefar, thou art reveng'd, Mef. It is but Change, Titinius; for Octavius Tit. These tidings will well comfort Caffius. Tit. All difconfolate, With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill. [Exit. Mef. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground? Tit. No, this was he, Meffala; But Caffius is no more! Oh, fetting Sun! Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done; Mef. Miftruft of good fuccefs hath done this deed. Oh hateful Error, Melancholy's child! Why doft thou fhew to the apt thoughts of men But kill'ft the mother that engender'd thee. Tit. What, Pindarus? where art thou, Pindarus? Tit. Tit Hye you, Meffala, [Exit Meff And I will feek for Pindarus the while. Put on my brows this wreath of victory, And bid me give it thee? did thou not hear their fhouts? Alas, thou haft mifconftru'd ev'ry thing. But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow By your leave, Gods This is a Roman's part. [Stabs himfelf Come, Cafius' word, and find Titinius' heart. [Dies. Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meffala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius. Bru. Where, where, Meala, doth his body lye? Cato. He is flain. Bru. Oh Julius Cæfar,, thou art mighty yet! Thy Spirit walks abroad, and turns our fwords In our own proper entrails. Cato, Brave Titinius! [Low alarums. Look, if he have not crown'd dead Caffius! Bru. Are yet two Romans living, fuch as these? Thou laft of all the Romans! fare thee well; It is impoffible,, that ever Rome Should breed thy fellow. (33) Friends, I owe more tears To this dead man, than you, shall see me pay. (33) Friends, I owe more Tears I To this dead Man.] This Paflage (bu; why, I know not) feems twice to have been fneer'd in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the burning Peftle. Lucé crying over Jafper, her Sweetheart, fuppos'd dead, fays; Good Friends, depart a little, whilst I take My Leave of this dead Man, that once I lov'd. And I fhall find time, Caffius, I fhall find time- Left it discomfort us. Lucilius, come; 'Tis three o' clock; and, Romans, yet ere night' [Exeunt! Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meffala, Cato, Lucilius, and Flavius. Bru. Yet, Countrymen, oh 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 Son of Marcus Gato, ho! A foe to tyrants, and my Country's friend. 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 dieft as bravely as Titinius; And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's Son. Sold. Yield, or thou dieft. Luc. Only I yield to die; There is fo much, that thou wilt kill me ftraight; Sold. We must not. "A Noble Prifoner! And Mafter Humphry, before, fays to Lucé. I care not at what Price; for, on my Word, it (34) and to Tharfus fend his Body,] Thus all the Editions hitherto, very ignorantly. But the whole Tenor of History warrants us to write, as I have restored the Text, Thaffos. Tharfos was a Town of Cilicia, in Afia Minor: and is it probable, Brutus could think of fending Caffius's Body thither out of Thrace, where they were now incamp'd? Thaffos, on the contrary, was a little Ifle lying close upon Thrace, and at but a fmall Distance from Philippi, to which the Body might very comnodioufly be tranfported. Vid. Plutarch, Appian, Dion Caffius, &c. Enter 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 fafe enough. Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus: And bring us word unto Octavius' Tent, [Exeunt. SCENE changes to another part of the Field. Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, Bru. COME, poor Remains of friends, rest on this Cli. Statilius fhew'd the torch-light, but, my Lord, He came not back, he is or ta'en, or flain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus; flaying 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 my felf. Dar. Oh Clitus ! |