Let us not wrangle: Bid them move away; Cas. Pindarus, Bid our commanders lead their charges off A little from this ground. Bru. Lucilius, do the like; and let no man Come to our tent, till we have done our conference. Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Within the Tent of Brutus. Lucius and Titinius at some distance from it. Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS. Cas. That you have wrong'd me, doth appear in this: You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella, case. Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet That every nice' offence should bear his comment. Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold, To undeservers. Cas. I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Cas. Chastisement ! Bru. Remember March, the ides of March re member! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? Cas. Brutus, bay not me, I'll not endure it; you forget yourself, Older in practice, abler than yourself Bru. Cas. I am. Go to; you're not, Cassius. 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? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted, when a madman 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, Cas. Is it come to this? Bru. You say, you are a better soldier : Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me, I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I I say, better?' If 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 him. Cas. I durst not? Bru. No. Cas. What? durst not tempt him. Bru. For your life you durst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love, may do that I shall be sorry for. threats: Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your 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 denied 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 denied me: Was that done like Cassius? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, I denied you not. Bru. You did. Cas.. That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riv'd3 my heart: A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, Bru. 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, better Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius. Bru. heart: Sheathe 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; 3 Split. Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, Cas. 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. Bru. O Brutus ! What's the matter? Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful? Bru. 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 ; Cas. Ha, ha; how vilely doth this cynick rhyme ! What should the wars do with these jigging fools? 4 Fellow. |