Ant. This is not Brutus, friend, but I affure you,,
A prize no lefs in worth; keep this man safe,
Give him all kindnefs. I had rather have

Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
And fee if Brutus be alive or dead;

And bring us word unto Octavius' Tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunti

SCENE changes to another part of the Field.

Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and
Volumnius.

O ME, poor remains of friends, reft on this

Bru. Cock.

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

[Whisperings. Cli. What I, my Lord.? no, not for all the world.. Bru. Peace then, no words.

Bru. Hark thee Dardanius!

Dar. I do fuch a deed?:
Gli. Oh, Dardanius!

Dar. Oh, Clitus!

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee ??
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: look, he meditates..
Cli. Now is that noble veffel 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 Caefar hath appear'd to me

Two feveral times by night; at Sardis, once;
And, this lafi night, here in Philippi fields.
I know, my hour is come.

Vol. Not fo, my Lord.

Bru. Nay, I-am fure it is, Volumnius.
D. 6,

Thor

Thou feeft the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit:
It is more worthy to leap in our felves,
Than tarry, till they push us.

{Alarum.

Good Volumnius,

Thou know'ft, that we two went to fchool together;
Even for that, our love of old, I pr'ythee,

Hold thou my fword's hilt, while I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a Friend, my Lord.
[Alarum fill.
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;

(35) Farewel 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 Odavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile Conqueft fhall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's hiftory.

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 thee.

I pr'ythee, Strato, ftay thou by thy Lord;
Thou art a fellow of a good refpect;

Thy life hath had fome fmatch of honour in't.
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. Farewel, good Strato;-Cafar, now be ftill; I kill'd not thee with half fo good a will.

[He runs on his fward, and dies.

(35) Farewel to thee, to Strato, Countrymen ;] Thus has this paffage all along been abfurdly pointed, to the praife of our intelligent editors. I had corrected it long ago; but am, notwithstanding, to make my acknowledgments to an anonymous gentleman, who unknowingly concurr'd with me; and advis'd the correction of the pointing, as is now reformed by letter,

Alarum.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Meffala, Lucilius, and the army.

Oda. What man is that?

Mef. My Mafter's man. Strato, where is thy Master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala; The Conqu'rors can but make a fire of him: For Brutus only overcame himself;

And no man else hath honour by his death.

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

O&ta. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them, Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stra. Ay, if Meffala will prefer me to you. Octa. Do fo, good Meffala.

Mef. How died my Lord, Strato?

Stra. I held the fword, and he did run on it. Mef. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my Mafter.

Ant. This was the noblest 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 mixt in him, that Nature might stand up,
And fay to all the world; "This was a Man!"
Ota. According to his virtue, let us ufe him a
With all refpect, and rites of burial.
Within my Tent his bones to-night fhall lie,
Moft like a Soldier, order'd honourably.
So call the field to reft; and let's away,
To part the Glories of this happy day.

[Exeunt omnem

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