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As Cassius' legions are by Antony.

Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
Mes. Where did


leave him? Tit.

All disconsolate,
With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

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

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;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come: our deeds are

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this

O hateful error, melancholy's child !
Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? O error, soon conceived,
Thou never comest 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.

Hie you, Messala,

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And I will seek for Pindarus the while.

[Exit Messala.
Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius ?
Did I not meet thy friends ? and did not they
Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their

shouts ?
Alas, thou hast misconstrued every 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 see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
By your leave, gods :—this is a Roman's part :
Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.


Alarum. Re-enter MESSALA, with BRUTUS, YOUNG


Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
Mes. Lo, yonder; and Titinius mourning it.
Bru. Titinius' face is upward.

He is slain.
Bru. O Julius Cæsar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails.

[low alarums. Cato.

Brave Titinius!
Look, whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius !

Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these? 'The last of all the Romans, fare thee well ! It is impossible, that ever Home

Should breed thy fellow.–Friends, I owe more

To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.-
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time:
Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body;
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us.—Lucilius, come ;-
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
Labeo, and Flavius, set our battles on :-
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight. [Exeunt.


Another part of the field.
Alarum. Enter, fighting, SOLDIERS of both armies ;

then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others.
Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your

heads! Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will



me ?

I will proclaim my name about the field :-
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho !
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 over

powered, and falls.

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2 B

Lucil. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Wny, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; And mayst be honor'd being Cato's son.

1 Sol. Yield, or thou diest. Lucil.

Only I yield to die : There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight;

[offering money. Kill Brutus, and be honor'd in his death.

1 Sol. We must not.-A noble prisoner ! 2 Sol. Room, no! Tell Autony, Brutus is ta’en. 1 Sol. I'll tell the news. Here comes the ge

neral :


Brutus is ta’en, Brutus is ta’en, my lord.

Ant. Where is he?

Lucil. Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough:
I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus.
The gods defend him from so great a shame!


do find him, or alive or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himself. Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure

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 whe'r Brutus be alive or dead;

1 i.o. worthy of him

And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanced.



Another part of the field.





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

rock. Cli. Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my

lord, He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain.

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 ! [whispers him. 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! list a word.
Vol. What says my lord ?

Why, this, Volumnius :



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