Act 5

Scene V

Another part of the field.

	Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.
Brutus	Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
Clitus	Statilius show’d the torch-light, but, my lord, He came not back: he is or ta’en or slain.
Brutus	Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. Whispers.
Clitus	What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Brutus	Peace then! no words.
Clitus	I’ll rather kill myself.
Brutus	Hark thee, Dardanius. Whispers.
Dardanius	Shall I do such a deed?
Clitus	O Dardanius!
Dardanius	O Clitus!
Clitus	What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dardanius	To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
Clitus	Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes.
Brutus	Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.
Volumnius	What says my lord?
Brutus	Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Caesar 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.
Volumnius	Not so, my lord.
Brutus	Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit: Low alarums. It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know’st that we two went to school together: Even for that our love of old, I prithee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
Volumnius	That’s not an office for a friend, my lord. Alarum still.
Clitus	Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
Brutus	Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius. 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 shall have glory by this losing day More than Octavius and Mark Antony By this vile conquest shall attain unto. So fare you well at once; for Brutus’ tongue Hath almost ended his life’s history: Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, That have but labour’d to attain this hour. Alarum. Cry within, “Fly, fly, fly!”
Clitus	Fly, my lord, fly.
Brutus	Hence! I will follow. Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. I prithee, 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?
Strato	Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
Brutus	Farewell, good Strato. Runs on his sword. Caesar, now be still: I kill’d not thee with half so good a will. Dies.
	Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and the army.
Octavius	What man is that?
Messala	My master’s man. Strato, where is thy master?
Strato	Free from the bondage you are in, Messala: The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself, And no man else hath honour by his death.
Lucilius	So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast proved Lucilius’ saying true.
Octavius	All that served Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Strato	Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Octavius	Do so, good Messala.
Messala	How died my master, Strato?
Strato	I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Messala	Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master.
Antony	This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; 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!”
Octavius	According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order’d honourably. So call the field to rest; and let’s away, To part the glories of this happy day. Exeunt.