Julius Caesar Act 5 Scene 5

Come — what's left of my friends — rest on this rock.

Statilius signalled with his torch, my lord,

but he hasn't come back. He's captured or killed.

Sit down, Clitus. Killing is the order of the day —

it's the fashionable act. — Listen, Clitus.

What — me, my lord? Not for anything in the world.

Quiet, then. Say nothing.

I'd sooner kill myself.

Listen, Dardanius.

Am I to do such a thing?

Oh, Dardanius!

Oh, Clitus!

What terrible request did Brutus make of you?

To kill him, Clitus. Look — he's lost in thought.

That noble vessel is so full of grief

that it's overflowing at his eyes.

Come here, good Volumnius — a word.

What is it, my lord?

This, Volumnius:

Caesar's ghost has appeared to me

twice now at night — once at Sardis,

and last night here on the fields of Philippi.

I know my time has come.

That's not so, my lord.

No, I'm certain it is, Volumnius.

You can see how things stand.

Our enemies have driven us to the edge of the pit.

It's more honourable to jump in ourselves

than wait to be pushed. Good Volumnius,

you know we went to school together.

For the sake of that old friendship, please —

hold the hilt of my sword while I run onto it.

That's not a job for a friend, my lord.

Run, my lord, run! There's no staying here.

Farewell to you — and you — and you, Volumnius. —

Strato, you've been asleep all this time.

Farewell to you too, Strato. — Countrymen,

my heart is glad that in my whole life

I never found a man who wasn't loyal to me.

I'll gain more glory from this day of defeat

than Octavius and Mark Antony will gain

from this squalid victory.

So farewell, all of you. Brutus's tongue

has nearly finished telling his life's story.

Night is closing on my eyes. My bones want rest,

having laboured only to reach this hour.

Run, my lord, run!

Go! I'll follow.

Please, Strato — stay with your master.

You're a man of decent reputation.

Your life has had some taste of honour in it.

So hold my sword and turn your face away

while I run onto it. Will you, Strato?

Give me your hand first. Farewell, my lord.

Farewell, good Strato. — Caesar, rest quiet now.

I didn't kill you half as willingly as this. (His last words are to Caesar. He has been dying since the ides of March.)

Who is that man?

My master's servant. — Strato, where is your master?

Free from the captivity you're in, Messala.

The victors can do nothing but burn his body.

Brutus alone conquered Brutus,

and no one else gains honour from his death.

That's how Brutus should be found. — Thank you, Brutus,

for proving what Lucilius said was true.

I'll take into my service everyone who served Brutus. —

Fellow — will you spend your time with me?

Yes, if Messala will recommend me to you.

Do that, good Messala.

How did my master die, Strato?

I held the sword and he ran onto it.

Octavius, take him into your service, then —

the man who did my master his last service.

This was the noblest Roman of them all.

Every one of the conspirators except him

acted out of envy of great Caesar.

He alone joined them out of honest concern

for the common good of everyone.

His life was noble, and the elements

were so balanced in him that Nature could stand up

and say to the whole world: 'This was a man!' (From the man who called them butchers over Caesar's corpse. Whether he means it is the last question the play asks.)

Let's treat him as his virtue deserves,

with full respect and proper burial rites.

His bones will lie in my tent tonight,

laid out honourably, like a soldier's. —

Now call the army to rest, and let's go

and divide up the glory of this happy day. (The last word in the play belongs to Octavius, who will become Augustus — the emperor Rome killed Caesar to avoid.)