[Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls.

Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's son.

1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest.

Luc. Only I yield to die:

There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight; [Offering money. Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.

1. Sold. We must not.-A noble prisoner! 2 Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.

1 Sold. I'll tell the news. Here comes the general :

Enter ANTONY.

Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.
Ant. Where is he?

Luc. Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough :
I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus:
The gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.

Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you,

A prize no less in worth: keep this man safe,
Give him all kindness: I had rather have
Such men my friends, than enemies. Go on,
And see whe'r Brutus be alive, or dead :
And bring us word, unto Octavius' tent,
How every thing is chanc'd.

[Exeunt.

Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

Cli. Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my lord,

He came not back; he is or ta'en, or slain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: Slaying is the word;

It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.[Whispering.

Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.

Bru. Peace then, no words.
Cli. I'll rather kill myself.

Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius! [Whispers him.
Dar. I do such a deed?

Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou see'st 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 two went to school to

gether;

Even for that our love of old, I pray thee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still. Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.

Bru. 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 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.
[Alarum. Cry within; Fly, fly, fly.

Cli. Fly, my lord, fly.
Bru. Hence; I will follow thee.

[Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.
I pr'ythee, 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?
Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you
well, my lord.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato. Cæsar, now be

still:

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

[He runs on his sword, and dies.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY,
MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and their Army.
Oct. What man is that?

Mes. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all:

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala;

All the conspirators, save only he,

Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
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 !

Oct. According to his virtue let us use him,
With all respect, and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night 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

TRA's palace.

Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO.

Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's
O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of the war
Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now
turn,

The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst

And is become the bellows, and the fan,
To cool a gipsey's lust. Look, where they come!

Flourish. Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA,
with their Trains: Eunuchs fanning her.
Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be

Sooth. In nature's infinite book of secrecy,

Alex. Show him your hand.

arch

Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space;
Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike
Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life
Is, to do thus; when such a mutual pair,

[Embracing.

And such a twain can do't, in which, I bind, On pain of punishment, the world to weet, We stand up peerless.

Cleo. Excellent falsehood! Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony Will be himself.

Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours, Let's not confound the time with conference harsh:

There's not a minute of our lives should stretch Without some pleasure now: What sport tonight?

Cleo. Hear the ambassadors. Ant. Fye, wrangling queen! Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To weep; whose every passion fully strives To make itself, in thee, fair, and admir'd! No messenger; but thine and all alone, To-night, we'll wander through the streets, and

note

The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
Last night you did desire it:-Speak not to us.
Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their Train.
Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight?
Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property,
Which still should go with Antony.
Dem. I'm full sorry,

That he approves the common liar, who

Enter ENOBARBUS.

Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine

enough,

Cleopatra's health to drink.

Char. Good sir, give me good fortune.

Sooth. I make not, but foresee.

Char. Pray then, foresee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.

Char. He means, in flesh.

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old. Char. Wrinkles forbid!

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Char. Hush!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than be

lov'd.

Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. Sooth. I have said.

Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?

Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose.

Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas, come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wiv'd, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. Amen.

2 Att. He stays upon your will. Ant. Let him appear :

These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Enter another Messenger.

Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you?

2 Mess. Fulvia, thy wife, is dead. Ant. Where died she?

2 Mess. In Sicyon:

Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Importeth thee to know, this bears.

[Gives a letter. Ant. Forbear me.Exit Messenger. There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, By revolution lowering, does become The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; The hand could pluck her back, that shov'd her on. I must from this enchanting queen break off'; Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, Myidleness doth hatch.-Hownow! Enobarbus!

Enter ENOBARBUS.

Eno. What's your pleasure, sir? Ant. I must with baste from hence.