BRUTUS

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!’]