While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
Strato. Give me your hand first: fare you well, my lord.
Brutus. Farewell, good Strato. [Runs on his sword][129]
50Cæsar, now be still:
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
[Dies]
Alarum.[130] Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala.
Lucilius, and the Army
Octavius. What man is that?
Messala. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?