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Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: look, he meditates.

Cli. Now is that noble Vefsel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.'

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

Bru. Why, this, Volumnius;
The Ghost of Cæfar hath appear'd to me

Two several times by night; at Sardis, once; .. " And, this last night, here in Philippi fields. :;'

I know, my hour is come. • Vol. Nor so, my Lord. ' .

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.'; . - Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

[ Alarum. " It is more worthy to leap in our selves,

Than 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’ythee, :
Hold thou my sword's hilt, while I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a Friend, my Lord.


. : [ Alarum fill. . Cli. Fly, fly, my Lord ; there is no tarrying here.

Bru. Farewel to you, and you, and you, Volumnius. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;

(35) 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 losing day,'.
More than Oetavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile Conqueft shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almoft ended his life's history.
Night hangs upon mine eyes, my bones would rest,

all this You, and tarryin. m Nill.

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


That have but labour’d to attain this hour.

[Alarum. , Cry, withing, fil Cli. Fly, my Lord,

Bru. Hence; I will follow thee. I prythee, Strato, stay thou by thy Lord; Thou art a Fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in't. Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stra. Give me your hand first fare you well,

my Lord. . . . Bru. Farewel, good Strato; - Gæfar, now be still; I kill'd not thce with half so good a will.

... [He runs on his sword, and dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter, Antony, Octavius, Meffala,

Lucilius, and the army.
Otta. What: Man is that?
Mef. My Master's Man. Strato, where is thy Master?

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Melala;
The Conqu’rors can but make a fire of him :
* For Brutus only overcame himself;
And no man else hath honour by his death.

Luc. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast prov'd LuciliusSaying true.

Oita. All that sery'd Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

Stra. Ay, if Melala will prefer me to you.
Osta. Do so, good Melala. :
Mef. How died my Lord, Strato ?
Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.

Mer. Ostavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my Master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all:
All the Conspirators, saye only, he,
Did That they did in envy of great Cæfar:
He, only, in a general honest thought,

And common Good to all, made one of them. : · His life was gentle, and the elements..

So mixt in him that Nature might stand up.
And say to all the world ; " This was a Man !

Octa. According to his virtue, let us use him,
With all respect, and rites of burial.
Within my Tent his bones to night shall lye,
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 omnési

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