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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?
Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything!
But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
By your leave, gods. This is a Roman’s part.
Come, Cassius’ sword, and find Titinius’ heart.
(Dies.)
Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Strato, Volumnius and Lucilius.
Brutus:
Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
Messala:
Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
Brutus:
Titinius’ face is upward.
Cato:
He is slain.
Brutus:
O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails.
(Low alarums.)
Cato:
Brave Titinius!
Look whether he have not crown’d dead Cassius!
Brutus:
Are yet two Romans living such as these?
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impossible that ever Rome
Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man than you shall see me pay.
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.
Come therefore, and to Thassos send his body.
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on.
’Tis three o’clock; and Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight.
(Exeunt.)
Scene Four: Another part of the field.
Alarum. Enter fighting soldiers of both armies; then Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Lucilius, Flavius and others.
Brutus:
Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!
Cato:
What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?
I will proclaim my name about the field.
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
A foe to tyrants, and my country’s friend.
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
(Charges the enemy.)
Lucilius:
And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
Brutus, my country’s friend; know me for Brutus!
(Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls.)
Lucilius:
O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius,
And mayst be honour’d, being Cato’s son.
First Soldier:
Yield, or thou diest.