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Julius Caesar, Act 5, Scene 5

Brutus meets his end · William Shakespeare
Every note, for your class

SCENE V. Another part of the field.

Enter Brutus, DardaniusDardanius, a soldier serving Brutus whom Brutus asks to help him die., Clitusa servant and soldier attending Brutus., Stratoa loyal servant and soldier who holds Brutus’s sword while Brutus kills himself. and VolumniusVolumnius, a friend and fellow soldier of Brutus whom Brutus asks to assist his suicide..
BRUTUS
Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
CLITUS
Statiliusa soldier in Brutus’s army who is sent to determine whether their camp is burning. show’d the torch-light; but, my lord,He came not back: he is or ta’en or slain.
BRUTUS
Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word;It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.
Whispering.
CLITUS
What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
BRUTUS
Peace then, no words.
CLITUS
I’ll rather kill myself.
BRUTUS
Hark thee, Dardanius.
Whispers him.
DARDANIUS
Shall I do such a deed?
CLITUS
O Dardanius!
DARDANIUS
O Clitus!
CLITUS
What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
DARDANIUS
To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
CLITUS
Now is that noble vessel full of grief,That it runs over even at his eyes.
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 meTwo 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.
BRUTUS
It is more worthy to leap in ourselvesThan 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’ytheeHold 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 lifeI found no man but he was true to me.I shall have glory by this losing dayMore than Octavius and Mark AntonyBy this vile conquest shall attain unto.So fare you well at once; for Brutus’ tongueHath 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.
BRUTUS
I pr’ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.Thou art a fellow of a good respect;Thy life hath had some smatchA small taste, trace, or suggestion of a quality. of honour 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 Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucilius and the 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 prov’d Lucilius’ saying true.
OCTAVIUS
All that serv’d Brutus, I will entertain them.Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
STRATO
Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
OCTAVIUS
Do so, good Messala.
MESSALA
How died my master, Strato?
STRATO
I held the sword, and he did run on it.
MESSALA
Octavius, then take him to follow thee,That did the latest service to my master.
ANTONY
This was the noblest Roman of them all.All the conspirators save only he,Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;He only, in a general honest thoughtAnd common good to all, made one of them.His life was gentle, and the elementsSo mix’d in him that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, “This was a man!”
OCTAVIUS
According to his virtue let us use himWith all respect and rites of burial.Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie,Most like a soldier, order’d honourably.So call the field to rest, and let’s away,To part the glories of this happy day.
Exeunt.