« AnteriorContinuar »
Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO,
and VOLUMNIUS. Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this
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.
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
Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Cæsar 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. Vol.
Not so, my lord, Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit: 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 pray thee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
[Alarum still. Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here. Bru. Farewell to you;-and you;—and you, Vo
Hath almost ended his life's history:
[Alarum. Cry within; Fly, fly, fly.
Hence; I will follow thee. [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 smatch 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 first: Fare you well, my
lord. 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
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.
How died my master, Strato? Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all:
Oct. According to his virtue let us use him,
DECIUS-] This person was not Decius, but Decimus Brutus. The poet (as Voltaire has done since) confounds the characters of Marcus and Deci
Decimus Brutus was the most cherished by Cæsar of all his friends, while Marcus kept aloof, and declined so large a share of his favours and honours as the other had constantly accepted.
2 Sennet-] Sennet appears to be a particular tune or mode of martial musick.
JOHNSON. I have been informed that Sennet is derived from Senneste, an antiquated French tune formerly used in the army,
but the Dictionaries which I have consulted exhibit no such word.
3 To stale with ordinary oaths my love~) To invite every new protestor to my affection by the stale or allurement of customary oaths.
JOHNSON. 4 There was a Brutus once-] Lucius Junius Brutus.