Oct. Come, come, the cause: If arguing make us The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look; I draw a sword against conspirators; When think you that the sword goes up again?— Never, till Cæsar's three-and-thirty wounds Be well aveng'd; or till another Cæsar Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. Bru. Cæsar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands, Unless thou bring'st them with thee. Oct. So I hope; I was not born to die on Brutus' sword. Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable. Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such Join'd with a masker and a reveller. [honour, Ant. Old Cassius still! Oct. Come, Antony; away.Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth: If you dare fight to-day, come to the field; If not, when you have stomachs. [Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their Army. Cas. Why now, blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim, bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. This is my birthday; as this very day This morning are they fled away, and gone; Our ar ny lies, ready to give up the ghost. Cas. I but believe it partly ; Now, most noble Brutus, The gods to-day stand friendly; that we may, Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age! But, since the affairs of men rest still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall. If we do lose this battle, then is this The very last time we shall speak together: What are you then determined to do? Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy For fear of what might fall, so to prevent Cas. Then, if we lose this battle, You are contented to be led in triumph Thorough the streets of Rome ? Bru. No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome; Cas. For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus ! Bru. Why then, lead on.-O, that a man might Unto the legions on the other side: [Loud alarum. SCENE III. The same. Another part of the Field. Enter Pindarus. Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord! Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off. Cas. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius ; Are those my tents where I perceive the fire? Tit. They are, my lord. Cas. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill : My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius, And tell me what thou not'st about the field.[Exit Pindarus. This day I breathed first time is come round, And where I did begin there shall I end; My life is run his compass.-Sirrah, what news? Pin. [Above]. O my lord! Cas. What news? Pin. Titinius is enclosed round about With horsemen that make to him on the spur; Yet he spurs on.-Now they are almost on him; 403 Now, Titinius-Now some 'light :-O, he 'lights too : He's ta'en :--and hark! they shout for joy. [Shout. Cas. Come down, behold no more. O, coward that I am, to live so long, To see my best friend ta'en before my face. Enter Pindarus. Guide thou the sword.-Cæsar, thou art reveng'd, Re-enter Titinius, with Messala. Mes. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power, As Cassius' legions are by Antony. Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius. All disconsolate, Tit. No, this was he, Messala, But Cassius is no more.-O setting sun! As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night, So in his red blood Cassius' day is set; The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone; [done! Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful error, melancholy's child! Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error, soon conceiv'd, Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee. Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus? Mes. Seek him, Titinius: whilst I go to meet : The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears I may say, thrusting it; For piercing steel, and darts envenomed, Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus 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? Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie? His funerals shall not be in our camp, SCENE IV. Another part of the Field. A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend; I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! [Charges the enemy. Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus. [Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls. Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius ; And mayst be honour'd, being Cato's son. 1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest. Luc. Only I yield to die: There is so much that thou wilt kiil me straight; [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 : I'll rather kill myself. Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius.-Whispers him. Dar. Shall I do such a deed? Cli. O, Dardanius! Dar. 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, Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord. Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius : list a word. Why, this, Volumnius : Vol. Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit : 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-hilt, whilst I run on it. 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, VolumStrato, thou hast been all this while asleep; [nius.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 So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, Hence; I will follow. Bru. Farewell, good Strato.--Cæsar, now be still : I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. [He runs on his sword, and dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and their Army. Oct. What man is that? Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala; And no man else hath honour by his death. That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true. Mes. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all : All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, [Exeunt. |