Cli. Fly, my lord, fly.
Bru. Hence! I will follow.[3650]
[Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.
I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord:
Thou art a fellow of a good respect; 45
Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it:[3651]
Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
Stra. Give me your hand first: fare you well, my lord.
Bru. Farewell, good Strato. [Runs on his sword.] Cæsar, now be still:[3652]50
I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.[3652] [Dies.
Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and the army.[3653]
Oct. What man is that?[3654]
Mes. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?