Julius Caesar Page #9

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Look, look, Titinius.

Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?

Titinius, if thou lovest me, mount thou my horse,

and hide thy spurs in him, that I may rest assured whether yond troops are friend or enemy.

Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill!

My sight was ever thick.

Regard Titinius.

And tell me what thou notest about the field.

This day I breathed first.

This is my birthday.

Time is come round.

And where I did begin,

there shall I end.

My life is run his compass.

Sirrah, what news?

Titinius is enclosed round about with horsemen,

that make to him on the spur.

Yet he spurs on.

Now they are almost on him.

And, hark! they shout for joy.

Come down, behold no more.

O, coward that I am, to live so long,

to see my best friend ta'en before my face!

Sirrah, come hither.

In Parthia did I take thee prisoner

and then I swore thee, saving of thy life,

that whatsoever I did bid thee do, thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath.

Now be a freeman

and with this good sword, that ran through Caesar's bowels,

search this bosom.

Stand not to answer!

take thou the hilts; and, when my face is cover'd

as 'tis now,

guide thou the sword.

Caesar,

thou art revenged,

even with the sword that kill'd thee.

He is slain.

O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!

Thy spirit walks abroad and turns our swords

in our own proper entrails.

The sun of Rome is set!

Our day is gone.

Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?

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 shouts?

The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!

Friends,

I owe more tears to this dead man

than you shall see me pay.

I shall find time, Cassius,

I shall find time.

Et tu, Brute?

This is not Brutus, friend.

Keep this man safe.

Come, poor remains of friends,

rest on this rock.

Good Volumnius; list a word.

- What says my lord?

- Why, this, Volumnius:

The ghost of Caesar

hath appear'd to me

At Sardis once,

and, this last night, here

in Philippi fields.

I know my hour is come.

Not so, my lord.

Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.

Thou seest 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 2 went to school together.

Even for that our love of old, I prithee,

hold thou my sword-hilts,

whilst I run on it.

That's not an office for a friend, my lord.

Fly, my lord, fly.

There is no tarrying here.

Farewell to you, and you, Volumnius.

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 losing day

more than Octavius and Mark Antony

by this vile conquest shall 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 rest,

that have but labour'd to attain this hour.

Fly, my lord, fly.

- Hence! - I will follow.

I prithee, 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?

Give me your hand first.

- Fare you well, my lord.

- Farewell, good Strato.

Caesar, now be still.

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

- What man is that?

- My master's man.

Where is thy master?

Free from the bondage you are in, my lord.

The conquerors can but make a fire of him.

For Brutus only overcame himself.

And no man else hath honour by his death.

How died he, Strato?

I held the sword, and he did run on it.

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 thought And common good to all, made one of them.

His life was gentle,

and the elements

so mix'd in him that Nature might stand up

and say to all the world:

'This was a man!'

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