Bru. Farewell, good Strato.-Cæsar, 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 their army. Oct. What man is that? Mes. 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 hath honour by his death. Luc. So Brutus should be found.-I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true. Oct. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. Oct. Do so, Messala. Mes. How died my master, Strato Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all: Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; So mix'd in him, that nature might stand up, Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, [Exeunt. END OF VOL. IX. B. U. ! Syst. q 193 |