Journal Entry 3:
a.d. XI Id. Oct. (October 4th)
I cannot delude myself any longer. I have tried, and I have failed. This entry will no doubt be the last. At the meeting of Philippi last day, I surrendered to Octavius and Antony. Cassius was furious, as expected, but the guilt of murdering Caesar had finally caught up with me. Cassius's words during our passionate argument unlocked a few truths within me. This is not the right course of action. The army will not be paid by the fruits in Cassius's itchy palms, and then they will have no merit of serving us. I cannot retract my words of defeat, for they were made truthfully and solemnly.
Perhaps a spectator would ask why I did so; especially considering that the events that occurred have made it impossible for me to be granted pardon. My reasoning was rather simple: we slew Caesar, the mighty consul of Rome. The one admired and respected by so many citizens. Words have relayed the contents of Antony's speech to my ears. Was it merely by flattery in which I was convinced of Caesar's ambition? Cassius persuaded me so well then. But now evidence has shown how Caesar cared for Rome. And the thirty-three of us butchered him with no mercy. His last words? They were directed toward Brutus, his friend, his trusted.
Et tu, Brutè? Then fall Caesar.
Yes, and I Caesar, was part of the conspiracy that slew you. I misjudged horrendously, but words and remorse won't revive a corpse. Caesar's revenge will come tomorrow, when I succumb to my own fate, whatever it may be that Octavius and Antony decide. Then shall the Ghost of Caesar lie at rest.
I have resigned myself to waiting. Let there be no further blood shed for this grievous error of my perceptions, and the actions brought about as a consequence.
Brutus
