His hand is on the battlement—he grasps it

As though it were an altar; now his foot

Is on it, and——What have we here?—a Roman?

The first bird of the covey! he has fallen[A man falls.

On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, fellow?

Wounded Man. A drop of water!

Cæs.‍Blood's the only liquid

Nearer than Tiber.

Wounded Man.‍I have died for Rome.[Dies.

Cæs. And so did Bourbon, in another sense.