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- Edition: Julius Caesar
Julius Caesar (Folio 1, 1623)
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2638Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato,
2639and Volumnius.
2641Rocke.
2643He came not backe: he is or tane, or slaine.
2645It is a deed in fashion. Hearke thee, Clitus.
2646Clit. What I, my Lord? No, not for all the World.
2647Brut. Peace then, no words.
2649Brut. Hearke thee, Dardanius.
2651Clit. O Dardanius.
2652Dard. O Clitus.
2654Dard. To kill him, Clitus: looke he meditates.
2656That it runnes ouer euen at his eyes.
2659Brut. Why this, Volumnius:
2661Two seuerall times by Night: at Sardis, once;
2663I know my houre is come.
2667Our Enemies haue beat vs to the Pit: Low Alarums.
2668It is more worthy, to leape in our selues,
2669Then tarry till they push vs. Good Volumnius,
2670Thou know'st, that we two went to Schoole together:
2671Euen for that our loue of old, I prethee
2672Hold thou my Sword Hilts, whilest I runne on it.
2674 Alarum still.
Clit. Fly,
130The Tragedie of Julius Caesar
2676Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and you Volumnius.
2678Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen:
2679My heart doth ioy, that yet in all my life,
2680I found no man, but he was true to me.
2682More then Octauius, and Marke Antony,
2684So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongue
2686Night hangs vpon mine eyes, my Bones would rest,
2687That haue but labour'd, to attaine this houre.
2688Alarum. Cry within, Flye, flye, flye.
2690Bru. Hence: I will follow:
2691I prythee Strato, stay thou by thy Lord,
2694Hold then my Sword, and turne away thy face,
2695While I do run vpon it. Wilt thou Strato?
2700Lucillius, and the Army.
2701Octa. What man is that?
2704The Conquerors can but make a fire of him:
2705For Brutus onely ouercame himselfe,
2706And no man else hath Honor by his death.
2710Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
2714Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it.
2720He, onely in a generall honest thought,
2721And common good to all, made one of them.
2722His life was gentle, and the Elements
2723So mixt in him, that Nature might stand vp,
2724And say to all the world; This was a man.
2727Within my Tent his bones to night shall ly,
2728Most like a Souldier ordered Honourably:
2729So call the Field to rest, and let's away,
2730To part the glories of this happy day.
Exeunt omnes.
2731FINIS.