Tit. All difconfolate,

With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.

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

Tit. No, this was he, Meffala;

But Caffius is no more! Oh, fetting fun!
As in thy red rays thou doft fink to-night,
So in his red blood Caffius' day is fet;
The fun of Rome is fet! our day is gone;

Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done; Miftruft of my fuccefs hath done this deed.

Mef. Miftruft of good fuccefs hath done this deed. Oh hateful error, melancholy's child!

Why dost thou fhew to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? error, foon conceiv'd,
Thou never com'ft unto a happy birth,

But kill'ft the mother that engender'd thee.

Tit. What, Pindarus? where art thou, Pindarus? Mef. Seek him, Titinius; whilft I go to meet The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears; I may fay, thrufting it; For piercing fteel, and darts invenomed, Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus, As tydings of this fight.

Tit. Hie, you Meffala,

[Exit Mef.

And I will feek for Pindarus the while.
Why didft thou fend me forth, brave Caffius!

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 fhouts
Alas, thou haft mifconftru'd ev'ry thing.

But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow.

Thy Brutus bid me give it thee; and Ï

Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace;
And see how I regarded Caius Caffius.

By your leave, Gods-This is a Roman's part.

[Stabs himself. Come, Cafius' fword, and find Titinius' heart. [Dies.

Alarm. Enter Brutus, Meffala, young Cato, Strato,
Volumnius, and Lucilius.

Bru. Where, where, Meffala, doth his body lie?
Mef. Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
Bru. Titinius face is upward.

Cato. He is flain.

Bru. Oh Julius Cæfar, thou art mighty yet! Thy fpirit walks abroad, and turns our fwords In our own proper entrails.

Cato. Brave Titinius!

[Low alarms.

Look, if he have not crown'd dead Caffius !-
Bru. Are yet two Romans living fuch as these?
Thou laft of all the Romans! fare thee well;
It is impoffible, that ever Rome

Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man, than you shall fee me pay.
I fhall find time, Caffius, I fhall find time-
Come, therefore, (18) and to Thaos fend his body:
His funeral shall not be in our camp,

Left it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
Labeo, and Flavius, fet our battles on.
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a fecond fight.

[Exeunt.

Alarm. Enter Brutus, Meffala, Cato, Lucilius,

and Flavius.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, oh yet, hold up your heads.

Cato. What baftard doth not? who will go with me?

Tharfos

(18) and to Tharfus fend bis Body,] Thus all the Editions hitherto, very ignorantly. But the whole Tenor of Hiftory warrants us to write, as I have reftored the Text, Thaffos. was a Town of Cilicia, in Afia Minor: and is it probable, Brutus could think of fending Caffius's Body thither out of Thrace, where they were now incamp'd? Thaffos, on the contrary, was a little Isle Tying clofe upon Thrace, and at but a fmall Distance from Philippi, to which the Body might very commodiously be tranfported. Vid. Plutarch, Appian, Dion Caffius, &c.

I will proclaim my name about the field.
I am the fon of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend.
I am the fon of Marcus Cato, ho!

Enter Soldiers and fight.

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;

Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus. [Exit.

Luc. Oh young and noble Cato, art thou down?

Why, now thou dy't as bravely as Titinius ;

And, may't be honour'd, being Cato's fon.
Sold. Yield, or thou diest.

Luc. Only I yield to die;

There is fo much, that thou wilt kill me ftrait;
Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.
Sold. We must not. A noble prisoner!

Enter Antony.

2 Sold. Room, ho! tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. 1 Sold. I'll tell the news, here comes the General: Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my Lord.

Ant. Where is he?

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is fafe enough.
I dare affure thee, that no enemy

Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The Gods defend him from fo great a fhame!
When you do find him or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himfelf.

Ant. This is not Brutus, friend, but, I affure you,

Go on,

A prize no lefs in worth; keep this man fafe,
Give him all kindness. I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies.
And fee if Brutus be alive or dead;
And bring us word unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to another part of the Field.

Bru.

Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and

Volumnius.

Ome, poor remains of friends, reft on this rock. Cli.Statilius fhew'd the torch-light, but, my Lord, He came not back, he is or ta'en, or flain.

Bru. Sit thee down, Chitus; flaying is the word; It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus

[Whispering. Cl. 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! Dar. I do fuch a deed? Cli. Oh, Dardanius! Dar. Oh, Clitus!

Cl. What ill requeft did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble veffel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes,

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

Bru. Why, this, Volumnius;

The ghost of Cefar hath appear'd to me
Two feveral times by night; at Sardis, once;
And, this last night, here in Philippi' fields.
I know, my hour is come.

Vol. Not fo, my Lord.

Bru. Nay, I am fure it is, Volumnius.

Thou feeft 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.

[Alarm.

Good Volumnius,

Thou know'ft, that we two went to school together; Even for that, our love of old, I pr'ythee,"

Hold thou my fword's hilt, while I run on it,

Vol. That's not an office for a Friend, my Lord.

you, Volumnius.

[Alarm ftill. Cli. Fly, fly, my Lord; there is no tarrying here. Bru. Farewel to you, and you, and Strato, thou haft been all this while asleep; (19) Farewel 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 lofing day, More than Octavius, and Mark Antony, By this vile Conqueft fhall 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 reft, That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

[Alarm. Cry within, Fly, fly, fly.

Cli. Fly, my Lord, fly.

Bru. Hence; I will follow thee.

I pr'ythee, Strato, ftay thou by thy Lord;
Thou art a fellow of a good respect;

Thy life hath had fome fmatch of honour in't.
Hold then my fword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it.

Wilt thou, Strato?

Stra. Give me your hand first

my Lord.

fare you well,

Bru. Farewel, good Strato;Cafar, now be ftill;

I kill'd not thee with half fo good a will.

[He runs on his fword, and dies.

Alarm. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Meffala, Lucilius, and the Army.

Oda. What man is that?

Mef. My mafter's man. Strato, where is thy mafter? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Meffala; The Conqu❜rors can but make a fire of him:

(19) Farewel to thee, to Strato, Countrymen ;] Thus has this Paffage all along been abfurdly pointed, to the Praife of our intelligent Editors. I had corrected it long ago; but am, notwithstanding, to make my Acknowledgment to an annonymous Gentleman, who, unknowingly concurr'd with me; and advis'd the Correction of the Pointing; as it is now reformed, by Letter.

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