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I dare assure thee, that no Enemy
Shall ever take alive the Noble Brutus:

The Gods defend him from so great a shame,
- When 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 where Brutus be alive or dead,
And bring us word unto Oétavius Tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt. Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius. Bru. Come, poor remains of Friends, rest on this Rock.

Cli. Statillius shew'd the Torch-light, but, my Lord, He came not back, he is, or ta’en, or Nain.

Bru, Sit thee down, Clitus; slaying is the word,
It is a deed in fashion, Hark chee, Clitus Whisperino,

Cli. W bac I, my Lord? No, not sor all the World.
Bru. Peace then, no words.
Cli. I'll rather kill my self.
Bru. Hark thee, Dardanins !
Dar. Shall I do such a Deed ?
Cli, O Dardanius!
Dar. O Clitus!
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.

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

Bru. Why this, Volumnins ;
The Ghost of Cæfar 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.

I know. Not fo, am sure it is nmins, how it so Low Alarm 10

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumniss.
Thou seeft the World, Volumnius, how it goes,
Our Enemies have beat us to the Pic :


It is more worthy, to leap in our felves,
Than tarry 'till they push us. Good Vulannins,
Thou kuiowest that we two went to School together;
Even for that, our love of old, I prethee
Hold thou my. Swoid's Hilt, while I run on it. .
Vol. That's not an Office for a Friend, my Lord.

Alarum ftill. Cli. Fly, fly, my Lord, there is no carrying here.

Bru. Farewel to you, and you, ard you, Volimnins.
Strato, chou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewel to thee, to Strato, Countrymen;
My Heart doch Joy, that yie in all my Life,
I found no Man, but he was true to me,
I shall have Glory by this losing Day,
More than Oétavius and Mark Antony,
By this vile Conquest shall attain upro,
So fare you well at once, for Brutus Tongue
Hath almost e:ded his Life's History.
Nigh: hangs upon mine Eyes, my Bones would rest,
That have but labour'd, to accain this Hour.

[Alarum. Cry within, Fly, fly, fly. Cli. Fly, my Lord, fly

Bru. Hence; I will follow;
I prethee, Strato, stay thou by thy Lord,
Thou art a Fellow of a good refpe&;
Thy Life hath had some smarch of Honour in it.
Hold then my Sword, and turn away thy Face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?

Stra. Give me your Hand Grft. Fare you well, my Lord.

Bru. Farewel, good Strato c efar, now be still, I kill'd not chee with half so good a Will.

[He runs on his sword and dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antory, O&avius, Meffala, Lucia

lius, and the Army. Osta. What Man is that? Mer. My Master's 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 only overcame himself,
And no Man else harh Honour by his Death.


Luc. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast prov'd Lucillius faying true.

Ołta. All that serv'd Brutus I will entertain them,
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

Stra. Ay, if Meffala will prefer me to you.
O&ta. Do so, good Messala.
Mes. How died my Lord, Strato?
Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it."

Mer. Oetavius, 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 save only he,
Did that they did, in envy of great Cafar:
He, only in a general 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 up,
And say to all the World; this was a Man.

Ołta. According to his Virtue, let us use him,
With all respect, and rites of Burial.
Within my Tent his Bones to Night shall lye,
Most like a Soldier, ordered honourably.
So call the Field to rest, and let's away,
To part the Glories of this happy Day, [Excunt omnes.

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