And may't be honour'd, being Cato's fon.

1 Sold. Yield, or thou dieft.

Luc. Only I yield to die :

There is fo much that thou wilt kill me straight;

[Offering money.

Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.

1 Sold. We must not.-A noble prifoner!

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.
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 lefs in worth: keep this man safe,
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 fhew'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 fafhion. 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. Shall I do fuch a deed?
Cli. O, Dardanius!

Dar. O, Clitus !

[Whispering.

Cli. What ill request did Brútus 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 ghoft of Cæfar hath appear'd to me
Two feveral 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 feeft the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

It is more worthy, to leap in ourfelves,

Than tarry 'till they push us.

Good Volumnius,

Thou know'it, that we two went to school together; Even for that our love of old, I pray thee,

Hold thou my fword's hilt, whilft I run on it.

Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum fill. Ch. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.

H

Bru.

Bru. Farewel to you;—and you;—and you, VolumStrato, thou haft been all this while afleep; [nius.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 Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almoft ended his life's history:

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. [Ex. CLI. DAR. and VOL.
Bru. Hence; I will follow.

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

Thy life hath had fome fmack 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 firft: Fare you well, my lord.
Bru. Farewel, good Strato.-Cæfar, now be still;
I kill'd not thee with half fo good a will.

[He runs on his fword, and dies.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the army.

Qua. What man is that?

Mef. My mafter's man.-Strato, where is thy mafter? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Mcffala;

The conquerors can but make a fire of him:

For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death.

[tus,

Luc. So Brutus fhould be found.-I thank thee, Bru

That

That thou haft prov'd Lucilius' faying true.

Oda. 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. Oda. Do fo, good Meffala.

Mef. How died my mafter, 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 noble Roman of them all :
All the conspirators, gave only he,

Did that they did in envy of great Cafar;
He, only, in a general honest 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! CL
Oda. According to his virtue. let us ufe him,
With all refpect, and rights of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night fhall lie,
Moft like a foldier, order'd honourably.-
So, call the field to rest: and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day.

[Exeunt.