Part 6

Tit. What Pindarus? Where art thou Pindarus? Messa. Seeke him Titinius, whilst I go to meet The Noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his eares; I may say thrusting it: For piercing Steele, and Darts inuenomed, Shall be as welcome to the eares of Brutus, As tydings of this sight

Tit. Hye you Messala, And I will seeke for Pindarus the while: Why did'st thou send me forth braue Cassius? Did I not meet thy Friends, and did not they Put on my Browes this wreath of Victorie, And bid me giue it thee? Did'st thou not heare their showts? Alas, thou hast misconstrued euery thing. But hold thee, take this Garland on thy Brow, Thy Brutus bid me giue it thee, and I Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace, And see how I regarded Caius Cassius: By your leaue Gods: This is a Romans part, Come Cassius Sword, and finde Titinius hart.

Dies

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, yong Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucillius.

Bru. Where, where Messala, doth his body lye? Messa. Loe yonder, and Titinius mourning it

Bru. Titinius face is vpward

Cato. He is slaine

Bru. O Iulius Caesar, thou art mighty yet, Thy Spirit walkes abroad, and turnes our Swords In our owne proper Entrailes. Low Alarums

Cato. Braue Titinius, Looke where he haue not crown'd dead Cassius

Bru. Are yet two Romans liuing such as these? The last of all the Romans, far thee well: It is impossible, that euer Rome Should breed thy fellow. Friends I owe mo teares To this dead man, then you shall see me pay. I shall finde time, Cassius: I shall finde time. Come therefore, and to Tharsus send his body, His Funerals shall not be in our Campe, Least it discomfort vs. Lucillius come, And come yong Cato, let vs to the Field, Labio and Flauio set our Battailes on: 'Tis three a clocke, and Romans yet ere night, We shall try Fortune in a second fight.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lucillius, and Flauius.

Bru. Yet Country-men: O yet, hold vp your heads

Cato. What Bastard doth not? Who will go with me? I will proclaime my name about the Field. I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe. A Foe to Tyrants, and my Countries Friend. I am the Sonne of Marcus Cato, hoe. Enter Souldiers, and fight.

And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I, Brutus my Countries Friend: Know me for Brutus

Luc. O yong and Noble Cato, art thou downe? Why now thou dyest, as brauely as Titinius, And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's Sonne

Sold. Yeeld, or thou dyest

Luc. Onely I yeeld to dye: There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight: Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death

Sold. We must not: a Noble Prisoner. Enter Antony.

2.Sold. Roome hoe: tell Antony, Brutus is tane

1.Sold. Ile tell thee newes. Heere comes the Generall, Brutus is tane, Brutus is tane my Lord

Ant. Where is hee? Luc. Safe Antony, Brutus is safe enough: I dare assure thee, that no Enemy Shall euer take aliue the Noble Brutus: The Gods defend him from so great a shame, When you do finde him, or aliue, or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himselfe

Ant. This is not Brutus friend, but I assure you, A prize no lesse in worth; keepe this man safe, Giue him all kindnesse. I had rather haue Such men my Friends, then Enemies. Go on, And see where Brutus be aliue or dead, And bring vs word, vnto Octauius Tent: How euery thing is chanc'd.

Exeunt.

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

Brut. Come poore remaines of friends, rest on this Rocke

Clit. Statillius shew'd the Torch-light, but my Lord He came not backe: he is or tane, or slaine

Brut. Sit thee downe, Clitus: slaying is the word, It is a deed in fashion. Hearke thee, Clitus

Clit. What I, my Lord? No, not for all the World

Brut. Peace then, no words

Clit. Ile rather kill my selfe

Brut. Hearke thee, Dardanius

Dard. Shall I doe such a deed? Clit. O Dardanius

Dard. O Clitus

Clit. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? Dard. To kill him, Clitus: looke he meditates

Clit. Now is that Noble Vessell full of griefe, That it runnes ouer euen at his eyes

Brut. Come hither, good Volumnius, list a word

Volum. What sayes my Lord? Brut. Why this, Volumnius: The Ghost of Caesar hath appear'd to me Two seuerall times by Night: at Sardis, once; And this last Night, here in Philippi fields: I know my houre is come

Volum. Not so, my Lord

Brut. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the World, Volumnius, how it goes, Our Enemies haue beat vs to the Pit:

Low Alarums.

It is more worthy, to leape in our selues, Then tarry till they push vs. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st, that we two went to Schoole together: Euen for that our loue of old, I prethee Hold thou my Sword Hilts, whilest I runne on it

Vol. That's not an Office for a friend, my Lord.

Alarum still.

Cly. Fly, flye my Lord, there is no tarrying heere

Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and Volumnius. Strato, thou hast bin all this while asleepe: Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen: My heart doth ioy, that yet in all my life, I found no man, but he was true to me. I shall haue glory by this loosing day More then Octauius, and Marke Antony, By this vile Conquest shall attaine vnto. So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongue Hath almost ended his liues History: Night hangs vpon mine eyes, my Bones would rest, That haue but labour'd, to attaine this houre.

Alarum. Cry within, Flye, flye, flye.

Cly. Fly my Lord, flye

Bru. Hence: I will follow: I prythee Strato, stay thou by thy Lord, Thou art a Fellow of a good respect: Thy life hath had some smatch of Honor in it, Hold then my Sword, and turne away thy face, While I do run vpon it. Wilt thou Strato? Stra. Giue me your hand first. Fare you wel my Lord

Bru. Farewell good Strato. - Caesar, now be still, I kill'd not thee with halfe so good a will. Dyes.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octauius, Messala, Lucillius, and the Army.

Octa. What man is that? Messa. My Masters man. Strato, where is thy Master? Stra. Free from the Bondage you are in Messala, The Conquerors can but make a fire of him: For Brutus onely ouercame himselfe, And no man else hath Honor by his death

Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee Brutus That thou hast prou'd Lucillius saying true, Octa. All that seru'd Brutus, I will entertaine them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stra. I, if Messala will preferre me to you

Octa. Do so, good Messala

Messa. How dyed my Master Strato? Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it

Messa. Octauius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest seruice to my Master

Ant. This was the Noblest Roman of them all: All the Conspirators saue onely hee, Did that they did, in enuy of great Caesar: He, onely in a generall honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the Elements So mixt in him, that Nature might stand vp, And say to all the world; This was a man

Octa. According to his Vertue, let vs vse him Withall Respect, and Rites of Buriall. Within my Tent his bones to night shall ly, Most like a Souldier ordered Honourably: So call the Field to rest, and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day.

Exeunt. omnes.

FINIS.