Julius Caesar

BRUTUS.
Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.

VOLUMNIUS.
What says my lord?

BRUTUS.
Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Caesar 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.

VOLUMNIUS.
Not so, my lord.

BRUTUS.
Nay I am sure it is, Volumnius.
Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

[Low alarums.]

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 pr'ythee,
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.

VOLUMNIUS.
That's not an office for a friend, my lord.

[Alarums still.]

CLITUS.
Fly, fly, my lord! there is no tarrying here.

BRUTUS.
Farewell to you;--and you;--and you, Volumnius.--
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
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
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history:
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

[Alarums. Cry within, "Fly, fly, fly!"]

CLITUS.
Fly, my lord, fly!

BRUTUS.
Hence! I will follow.--

[Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.]

I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord:
Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
Thy life hath had some smack of honor in it:
Hold, then, my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?

STRATO.
Give me your hand first: fare you well, my lord.

BRUTUS.
Farewell, good Strato.--Caesar, 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
Army.]

OCTAVIUS.
What man is that?

MESSALA.
My master's man.--Strato, where is thy master?

STRATO.
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 hath honour by his death.

LUCILIUS.
So Brutus should be found.--I thank thee, Brutus,
That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.

OCTAVIUS.
All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.--
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?