Imatges de pÓgina

Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Go to; you're not, Cassius.
Cas. I am.
Bru. I say, you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.

Bru. Away, slight man!
Cas. Is't possible?

Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give 'way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted, when a madnian stares ?

Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this? Bru. All this? ay, more: Fret, till your proud

heart break; Go, show your slaves how cholerick you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour ? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you: for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish. Cas.

Is it come to this? Bru. You say, you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well: For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me,


For your

I said, an elder soldier, not a better :
Did I


better? Bru.

If f you did, I care not. Cas. When Cæsar liv’d, he durst not thus have

mov'd me. Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted

Cas. I durst not?
Bru. No.
Cas. What? durst not tempt him?


durst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love, I may do that I shall be sorry for. Bru. You have done that you

should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am arm’d so strong in honesty, That they pass by me, as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you deny'd me;For I can raise no money by vile means: By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you deny'd me: Was that done like Cassius? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so ? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends,

Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces !

I deny'd you not.
Bru. You did.

I did not: he was but a fool, That brought my answer back.-Brutus hath riv'd


heart :
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.
Cas. You love me pot.

I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do

appear As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world: Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother; Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes !-There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I, that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart : Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him

better Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius. Bru.

Sheath your dagger: Be angry

when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Hath Cassius liv'd
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill temper'd too. Cas. Do you confess so much ? Give me your

hand. Bru. And my heart too. Cas.

O Brutus! Bru.

What's the matter Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave


Makes me forgetful?

Yes, Cassius; and, henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so,

[Noise within. Poet. [within.] Let me go in to see the generals; There is some grudge between them, 'tis not meet They be alone.

Luc. [within.] You shall not come to them.
Poet. [within. ] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet.

Cas. How now? What's the matter?
Poet. For shame, you generals; What do you

mean? Love, and be friends, as two such men should be ; For I have seen more years, I am sure, than ye.

Cas. Ha, ha; how vilely doth this cynic rhime!
Bru. Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence.
Cas. Bear with him, Brutus ; 'tis his fashion.
Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his


What should the wars do with these jigging fools ?
Companion, hence.

Away, away, be gone. [Exit Poet.


Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with

you Immediately to us. [Ereunt Lucilius and Titinius. Bru.

Lucius, a bowl of wine. Cas. I did not think, you could have been so

angry Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of

many griefs. Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.

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