Imatges de pàgina

Bru. Titinius' face is upward.
Stra. He is slain.

Bru. Oh Julius Cæfar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails. [Low Alar 19.

Gato. Brave Titinius!
Look, if he have not crowned dead Caflius!

Bru. Are yet two Romans living, such as these?
Thou last of all the Romans! fare thee well;
It is impossible that ever Rome
Should breed thy fellow. (33) Friends, I owe

more tears

To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time-
Come, therefore, (34) and to Thassos send his body:
His funeral shall not be in our camp,
Left it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.


Friends, I owe more tears To this dead man,] This paisage (but why, I know not) seems twice to have been seered in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pelile. Luce crying over Jasper, her sweetheart, supposed dead, says ;

Good friends, depart a little, whilst I take

My leave of this dead man, that once I loved.
And Master Humphrey, before, says to Luce;

I care not at what price ; for, on my word, it
Shall be repaid again, although it cost me

More than I'll speak of 110w(34) and to Tharsus send 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, Thailos.-Tharfos was a town of Celicia, in Asia Minor; and is it probable Brutus could think of sending Cassius's budy thither out of Thrace, where they were now incamped ? Thailos, on the contrary, was a little ille lying close upon Thrace, and at but a small distance froin Philippi, to which the body might very commodiously be transported. Villa Plutarch, Appian, Dion Callius, &c.

Labio, and Flavius, fet our battles on.
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight.

[Exeunt. Alaruin. Enter BRUTUS, MESSALA, CATO, LUCI

LIUS, and FLAVIUS. Bru. Yet, countrymen, oh yet, holdup your heads. Cato. What bakard doth not? who will


with me ? I will proclaiin my name about the field. I ain the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend. I am the fon of Marcius Cato, ho!

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 diest as bravely as Titinius; And may'lt be honoured, being Cato's son.

·Sold. Yield, vr thou dieft.

Luc. Only I yield to die; There is fo much, that thou wilt kill me straight ; Kill Brutus, and be honoured in his death. Sold. We must not. A noble prisoner!

Enier ANTONY. 2 Sold. Room, ho! tell Antony, Brutus is ta’en.

j 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 safe enough.
I dare affure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The Gods defend him from so great a shame!



you do find him, or alive or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant. This is not Brutus, friend, but I assure you, A prize no less in worth ; keep this man safe, Give him all kindness. I had rather have Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on, And see if Brutus be alive or dead; And bring us word unto Octavius? tent, How every thing is chanced.

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to another part of the Field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CL IT US, STRATO, and


Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this

rock. Cli. Statiliusshewed 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 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 myself. Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius! Dar. I do such a deed ? Cli. Oh, Dardanius! Dar. Oh, Clitus! Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to theç? Dar. To kill him, Clius: look, he meditates.

Lli. Now is that.noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; lift a word,
Vol. What says my Lord?

Bru. Why, this Volumnius;
The ghost of Cæfar hath appeared to me

Tivo several times by night; at Sardis, once;
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields. -
I know, my hour is come.
Vol. Not so, iny

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumuius.
Thou seert the world, Volumnius, how it goes ;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit : [ Harum,
It is mere worthy to leap in ourselves,
Than tarry till they puth us. Good Volumnius,
Thou knowcit that we two went to school together;.
Even for that, our love of old, I prythee,
Hold thou my sword's hilt, while I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my Lord.

[slarum ftillo Cli. Fly, fly, my Lord; there is no tarrying here: Bru. Farewel to you,


and nius. Strato, thou had 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 thall 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 alınost ended his life's hiftory... Night hangs upon mine eyes, my bones would rest, That have but laboured to attain this hour.

[Alarum. Cry wirbin, Fly, fly, fly,

you, Volum

(45) Farewel to thee, to Strato, Countrymen,] Thus has this passage all along been absurdly pointed, to the praise of our intelligent editors. I had corrected it long ago; bui: am, nowithstanding, to make my acknowledgments to an anonymous gentleman, who unknowingly concurred with me, and advised the correction of tlic pointing, as it is nowy Icformed, by letter.

Cli. Fly, my Lord, fly.

Bru. Hence; I will follow thee. I pr’ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy Lords Thou art a fellow of a good respect: Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in't.. Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stru. Give me your hand first---fare you well,.

my Lord. Bru. Farewel, good Strato.-Cæsar, now be still; I killed not thee with half so good a will.

[He runs on his Sword, and diese Alarum. Retreat. Enter ANTONY, OCTAVIUS, M&$:

SALA, LUCILIUS, and the Army. Ofta. What man is that? Mes. My Master's man. Strato, where is thy

Malter ? Stra. 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 eise hath Ironour by his death. Luc. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee,

Brutus, That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. Oita. All that served Brutus, I will entertain

Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

Stra. Ay, if Meifala will prefer me to youa
Osta. Do so, good Messala.
Mef. How died my Lord, Strato?
Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it..

Mes: Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my Master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the Conspirators, fave only he,

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