Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus? The noble Brutus, thrusting this report As tidings of this sight. Tit. Hie you, Messala, And I will seek for Pindarus the while. [Exit MESSALA. 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't 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 Alarum. Re-enter MESSALA, with BRUTUS, young Cato, Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie? 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. Cato. [Low alarums. Brave Titinius! Should breed thy fellow.-Friends, I owe more tears [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others. 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:- A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend; I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! [Charges the enemy. [Exit, charging the enemy. CATO is overpowered, Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; 1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest. Luc. [Offering money. Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death. 1 Sold. We must not.-A noble prisoner! 2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. 1 Sold. I'll tell the news. Here comes the general : Enter ANTONY. Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord. Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough: The gods defend him from so great a shame! Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you, [Exeunt SCENE V.-Another part of the field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS. 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. Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. Bru. Peace then, no words. Cli. Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius! Cli. O, Dardanius! Dar. O, Clitus! I'll rather kill myself. [Whispers him I do such a deed? 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 And, this last night, here in Philippı' fields. I know, my hour is come. Vol. Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Our enemies have beat us to the pit: Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Even for that our love of old, I pray thee, Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still, Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here. Bru. Farewell to you;--and you; and you, Volum nius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; [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, 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. |