[Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.]
- Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
- Statilius signalled with the torchlight, but, my lord,
He did not come back. He is captured or killed.
- Sit down, Clitus; killing is the word,
It is an action when it is practiced. Listen, Clitus.
- What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
- Quiet then, no words.
- I'd rather kill myself.
- Listen, Dardanius.
[Low calls to arms.]
- Should I do such a thing?
- Oh Dardanius!
- Oh Clitus!
- What harmful request did Brutus make to you?
- To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
- Now that noble vessel is full of grief,
So that it runs over even at his eyes.
- Come here, good Volumnius; listen to a word.
- What says my lord?
- Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Caesar has appeared to me
Two different times at night, here in the Philippi fields.
I know my time has come.
- Not so, my lord.
- No, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
You see the world, Volumnius, the way it goes;
Our enemies have driven us to the pit.
[Calls to arms continue.]
- It is more worthy to jump in ourselves
Than to wait till they push us. Good Volumnius,
You know that the two of us went to school together;
If only because of that old friendship, I ask you
To hold my sword hilts, while I run on it.
- That's not a job for a friend, my lord.
[Call to arms. Cry within, "Run, run, run!"]
- Run, run, my lord, there is no waiting here.
- Farewell to you, and you, and you, Volumnius.
Strato, you have been asleep all this time;
Farewell to you too, Strato. Countrymen,
My heart rejoices that still in all my life
I met no man who wasn't true to me.
I shall have glory from this losing day
More than Octavius and Mark Antony
Will gain from this evil victory.
So fare you well at once, for Brutus' tongue
Has almost ended his life's history.
Night hangs on my eyes, my bones want to rest,
They have only worked to reach this hour.
[Exit Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.]
- Run, my lord, run.
- Go! I will follow.
[Runs on his sword.]
- I ask you, Strato, stay by your lord.
You are a fellow with a good reputation;
Your life has some taste of honor in it.
Hold my sword, and turn away your face,
While I run upon it. Will you, Strato?
- Give me your hand first. Farewell, my lord.
- Farewell, good Strato.
- Caesar, now be still,
I did not kill you with half as much resolve.
[Call to arms. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucilius, and the army.]
- What man is that?
- My master's man. Strato, where is your master?
- Free from the bondage you are in, Messala;
The conquerors can only make a fire out of him;
For Brutus only conquered himself,
And no other man has honor from his death.
- Just like that Brutus should be found. I thank you, Brutus,
Because you have proved Lucilius' words true.
- I will take into my service everyone who served Brutus.
Fellow, will you employ your time with me?
- Yes, if Messala will recommend me to you.
- Do so, good Messala.
- How did my master die, Strato?
- I held the sword, and he ran onto it.
- Octavius, then take him to follow you,
Who performed the last service to my master.
- This was the noblest Roman of them all:
All the conspirators, except only him,
Did what they did because of envy of great Caesar;
He alone, out of a generally honest thought
And the common good of all, joined them.
His life was noble, and the elements
Were so balanced in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, "This was a man!"
- Let us treat him in accordance with his virtue,
With all respect and rites of burial.
His bones shall lie within my tent tonight,
Just like a soldier, treated honorably,
So call the army to rest and let's go,
To share the glories of this fortunate day.