Imatges de pÓgina


Took it too eagerly; his foldiers fell to spoil,
Whilft we by Antony were all inclos'd.

Enter Pindarus.

Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
Mark Antony is in your Tents, my lord;
Fly therefore, noble Caffius, fly far off.

Caf. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius,
Are those my Tents, where I perceive the fire?
Tit. They are, my lord.

Caf. Titinius, if thou lov'ft me,

Mount thou my horfe, and hide thy fpurs in him,'
'Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,
And here again; that I may reft affur'd,
Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.

Tit. I will be here again, ev'n with a thought. [Exit.
Caf. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill,
My fight was ever thick; regard Titinius,

And tell me what thou note'ft about the field.
This day I breathed firft; time is come round;
And where I did begin, there fhall I end;
My life is run its compafs. Now, what news?
Pind. above. Oh, my lord!

Caf. What news?

Pind. Titinius is enclosed round about
With horsemen, that make to him on the fpur;
Yet he fpurs on. Now they are almoft on him;
Titinius! now fome light- oh, he lights too
He's ta'en and hark, they fhout for joy.

Caf. Come down, behold no more;
Oh, coward that I am, to live so long,
To see my best friend ta'en before my face!

Enter Pindarus.

Come hither, firrah ;

In Parthia did I take thee prisoner;

And then I fwore thee, faving of thy life,

'That whatsoever I did bid thee do,


Thou shouldst attempt it. Come, now keep thine oath, Now be a freeman; and with this good fword,


That ran through Cafar's bowels, fearch this bofom.
Stand not to answer; here, take thou the hilt
And when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now,

Guide thou the sword

Ev'n with the fword that kill'd thee.

Cefar, thou art reveng'd,
[Kills himself.
Pind. So, I am free; yet would not so have been,
Durft I have done my Will. Oh, Caffius!
Far from this country Pindarus fhall run,
Where never Roman fhall take note of him.
Enter Titinius, and Meffala.

Mef. It is but Change, Titinius; for Octavius
Is overthrown by Noble Brutus' power,
As Caffius' legions are by Antony.

Tit. These tidings will well comfort Caffius.
Mef. Where did you leave him?

Tit. All difconfolate,

With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.


Mef. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground?
Tit. He lies not like the living. Oh my heart!
Mef. Is not that he?

Tit. No, this was he, Meffala;

But Caffius is no more! Oh, fetting Sun!
As in thy red rays thou doft fink to night,
So in his red blood Caffius' day is fet;
The Sun of Rome is fet! our day is gone;

Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done;
Mistrust of my fuccefs hath done this deed.

Mef. Miftruft of good fuccefs hath done this deed. Oh hateful Error, Melancholy's child!

Why doft thou fhew to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? Error, foon conceiv'd,
Thou never com'ft unto a happy birth,

But kill'ft the mother that engender'd thee.

Tit. What, Pindarus? where art thou, Pindarus?
Mef. Seek him, Titinius; whilft I go to meet
The noble Brutus, thrufting this report
Into his ears; I may fay, thrufting it;
For piercing steel, and darts invenomed,
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,
As tidings of this fight.


Tit Hye you, Meffala,

[Exit Meff

And I will feek for Pindarus the while.
Why didft thou fend me forth, brave Caffius!
Did not meet thy friends, and did not they

Put on my brows this wreath of victory,

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And bid me give it thee? did thou not hear their fhouts?

Alas, thou haft mifconftru'd ev'ry thing.

But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee; and I
Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace;
And fee how I regarded Caius Caffius.

By your leave, Gods

This is a Roman's part.

[Stabs himfelf Come, Cafius' word, and find Titinius' heart. [Dies.

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meffala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.

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Bru. Where, where, Meala, doth his body lye?
Mef. Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it,
Bru. Titinius' face is upward.

Cato. He is flain.

Bru. Oh Julius Cæfar,, thou art mighty yet! Thy Spirit walks abroad, and turns our fwords In our own proper entrails.

Cato, Brave Titinius!

[Low alarums.

Look, if he have not crown'd dead Caffius!

Bru. Are yet two Romans living, fuch as these? Thou laft of all the Romans! fare thee well;

It is impoffible,, that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow. (33) Friends, I owe more


To this dead man, than you, shall see me pay.


Friends, I owe more Tears


To this dead Man.] This Paflage (bu; why, I know not) feems twice to have been fneer'd in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the burning Peftle. Lucé crying over Jafper, her Sweetheart, fuppos'd dead, fays; Good Friends, depart a little, whilst I take My Leave of this dead Man, that once I lov'd.


I fhall find time, Caffius, I fhall find time-
Come, therefore, (34) and to Thaffos fend 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.
Labio, and Flavius, fet our battels on.

'Tis three o' clock; and, Romans, yet ere night'
We shall try fortune in a second fight.

[Exeunt! Alarum. Enter Brutus, Meffala, Cato, Lucilius, and Flavius.

Bru. Yet, Countrymen, oh yet, hold up your heads. Cato. What baftard doth not? who will go with me? I will proclaim my name about the field.

I am the Son of Marcus Gato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my Country's friend.
I am the Son of Marcus 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 dieft as bravely as Titinius; And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's Son. Sold. Yield, or thou dieft.

Luc. Only I yield to die;

There is fo much, that thou wilt kill me ftraight;
Kill Brutus, and be honour'd' in his death.

Sold. We must not. "A Noble Prifoner!

And Mafter Humphry, before, fays to Lucé.

I care not at what Price; for, on my Word, it
Shall be repaid again, although it coft me
More than I'll fpeak of now.

(34) and to Tharfus fend 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, Thaffos. Tharfos was a Town of Cilicia, in Afia Minor: and is it probable, Brutus could think of fending Caffius's Body thither out of Thrace, where they were now incamp'd? Thaffos, on the contrary, was a little Ifle lying close upon Thrace, and at but a fmall Distance from Philippi, to which the Body might very comnodioufly be tranfported. Vid. Plutarch, Appian, Dion Caffius, &c.


Enter Antony.

2 Sold. Room, ho! tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. 1 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 fafe enough.
I dare affure thee, that no enemy

Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus:
The Gods defend him from fo great a fhame!
When you do find him or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himfelf.
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 if Brutus be alive or dead;

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


SCENE changes to another part of the Field.

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

Bru. COME, poor Remains of friends, rest on this

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

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

Cli. I'll rather kill my felf.
Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius!
Dar. I do fuch a deed?
Cli. Oh Dardanius!

Dar. Oh Clitus !

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