Than such a Roman. 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. Go, show your slaves how cholerick you are, Cas. Is it come to this? Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, Cas. You wrong me every way, you wrong me, I said, an elder soldier, not a better : Did I say, better? Bru. If you did, I care not. * Limit my authority. Terms, fit to confer the offices at my disposal. 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, I may do that I shall be sorry for. Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. That they pass by me, as the idle wind, For certain sums of gold, which you denied me !— And drop my blood for drachmas*, than to wring To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: Was that done like Cassius? Cas. Bru. You did. Cas. I denied you not. I did not:-he was but a fool, That brought my answer back.-Brutus hath riv'd t my heart: A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, Bru. I do not like your faults. *Coin. + Split. 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; My spirit from mine eyes!—There is my dagger, 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. 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, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, 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 rhyme ! 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 time: What should the wars do with these jigging fools? Companion*, hence. Cas. Away, away; begone. Enter Lucilius and Titinius. [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. Bru. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius. 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. Bru. No man bears sorrow better:-Portia is dead. * Fellow. Cas. Ha! Portia ? Bru. She is dead. Cas. How scap'd I killing, when I cross'd you so?—— O insupportable and touching loss!- Bru. Impatient of my absence; And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony Have made themselves so strong;-for with her death That tidings came ;-With this she fell distract, Cas. And died so? Bru. Even so. Cas. O ye immortal gods! Enter Lucius, with wine and tapers. Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of wine : In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. [Drinks. Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge : Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup; I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. [Drinks. Re-enter Titinius, with Messala. Bru. Come in, Titinius :-Welcome, good Mes sala. Now sit we close about this taper here, And call in question our necessities. No more, I pray you. That young Octavius, and Mark Antony, Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour. Mes. That by proscription, and bills of outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, |