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Did I say better
Br. If you did, I care not.
Caf. When Calar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov'd me.
Bru.- Peace, peace, you durft not lo have tempred him.
Caf. I durft not!
Caf. What? durft not tempe him!
Bru. For your Life you durft not.
Caf. Do not presume too much upon my Love;
I may do that I Mall be sorry for.
Bru. You have done that you should be forry for.
There is no Terror, Caffius, 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 Mony hy vile means.
By Heav'n, I had rather coin my Heart,
And drop my Blood for Drachma's, than to wring
From the hard Hands of Peasants, their vile trash
By any Indirection. I did fend
To you for Gold to pay my Legions,
Which you deny'd me; was that done like Caffius?
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such Rascal Counters from his Friends,
Be ready Gods with all your Thunder-bolts,
Dash him to pieces.
Caf. I deny'd you not.
Brk. You did.
Caf. I did not He was but a Fool
That brought my answer back----Brutus hath riv'd my Heart,
A Friend Ihould bear a Friend's Infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not 'till you pradise them on me.
Caf. You love me not.
Bru. I do not like your Faults.
Caf. A friendly Eye could never see such Faults.
Bru. A Flatterer's would not, tho' they do appear
As huge as high Olympus.
Caf. Come, Antoxy, and young Ostavius come,
Revenge your selves alone os Calsins,
For Casius is a weary of the World;
Hated by one he loves, brav'd by his Brother,
Check'd like a Bondman, all his Faults obferv'd,
Ser in a Note-Book, learn'd, and conn’d by rore,
To cast into my Teeth.
Ó I could weep
My Spirit from mine Eyes! There is my Dagger,
And here my naked Breaft.Within, a Heart
Dearer than Pluto's Mine, richer than Gold;
If that thou beeft a Roman cake it forth.
I thar deny'd thee Gold, will give my Heart;
Strike as thou didst at Cæfar, for I know,
When thou didst hate him worft, that lov’dft him better
Than ever thou lovodst Caffims.
Bru. Sheath your Dagger;
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope,
Do what you will, Dishonour shall be Humour.
0, Cassius, you are yoaked with a Lamb,
That carries Anger as the Fiat bears Fire,
Who much inforced, shews a hasty (park,
And Itraighe is cold again.
Caf. Hath Cassius livd
To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,
When Grief and Blood ill-temper'd vexech him?
Brs. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Caf. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Bru. And my Heart too.
Caf. O Brutus!
Bru. What's the matter?
Caf. Have not you love enough to bear with me,
When that rath Humour which my Mother gave me
Makes me forgerful?
Bru. Yes, Casins, and from henceforth
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your Mother chides, and leave you so.
Enter Lucilius and Titinius, and a Poet.
Poet. Let me go in to see the Generals,
There is some grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
They be alone.
Luc. You shall not come to them.
Poet. Nothing but Death fhall stay me.
Caf. 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'm sure than ye.
Caf. Ha, ha--- how vilely doth this Cynick rhime !
Bru. Get you hence, Sirrah; fawcy Fellow, hence.
Caf. 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?
Caf. Away, away,
[Exit Poet. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the Commanders Prepare to lodge their Companies to Night.
Caf. And come your selves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.
Bru. Lucius, 2 Bowl of Wine.
Caf. I did not think you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Cassins, I am sick of many
Caf. Of your Philosophy you make no use,
you give place to accidental Evils.
Bru. No Man bears Sorrow better Portia is dead.
Caf. Ha! Portia !
Bry. She is dead.
Caf. How scap'd I killing, when I croft you fo?
O insupportable and touching Loss!
Upon what Sickness?
Bru, Impatient of my absence ;
And Grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony,
Have made themselves so strong: For with her Death
That tydings came. With this the fell distraat,
And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd Fire.
Caf. And dy'd los
Bru, Even so.
Caf. O ye immortal Gods!
Enter Boy with Wine and Tapers,
Bru. Speak no more of her: Give me a Bowl of Wine.
In this I bury all unkindness, Callius.
Caf. My Heart is thirsty for that noble Pledge,
Fill, Lucius, 'till the Wine o'er-swell the Cup;
I cannot drink too much of Brutus's Love.
Enter Titinius, and Messala.
Bru. Come in, Titinius; welcome, good Messala:
Now fit we close about this Taper here,
And call in question our Neceflities.
Cas. Portia! are thou gone?
Bru. No more, I pray you.
Mellala, I have here received Letters,
That young Oetavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty Power,
Bending their Expedition toward Philippi.
Mes. My self have Letters of the self-lame tenure.
Bru. With what Addition?
Mes. That by Profcription, and Bills of Outlawry,
Ottavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Have put to Death an hundred Senators.
Bru. Therein our Letters do not well agree;
· Mine speak of seventy Senators, that' dy'd
By their Proscriptions, Cicero being one.
Caf. Cicero one?
Mes. Cicero is dead; and by that Order of Proscription,
Had you your Letters from your Wife, my Lord?
Bru. No, Meffala.
Mes. Nor nothing in your Letters writ of her?
Bru. Nothing Messala.
Mes. That, methinks, is strange.
Bru.Why ask you? hear you ought of her, in yours?
Mef. No, my Lord.
Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
Mes. Then like a Roman, bear the Truth I tell,
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
Bru. Why, farewel, Portia---we must die, Messala,
With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.
Mef. Even so great Men, great Loffes should endure.
Caf. I have as much of this in Art as you,
But yet my Nature could not bear it fo.
Brm. Well, to our Work alive. What do
think Of marching to Philippi presently.
Caf. I do not think it good.
Bru. Your Reason?
Caf. This it is:
'Tis better that the Enemy seek us,
So shall he waste his means, weary his Soldiers,
Doing himself Offence, whilst we lying still, · Are full of rest, defence and nimbleness.
Bru. Good Reasons must of force give place to better. The People 'twixt Philippi, and this Ground, Do stand but in a forc'd Affe&ion; For they have grudg'd us Contribution. The Enemy, marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refresht, new added, and encourag'd; From which Advantage shall we cut him off, If at Philippi we do face him there, These People at our back.
Caf. Hear me, good Brother
Bru. Under your Pardon. You must note beside,
That we have tiy'd the urmoft of our Friends;
Our Legions are brim full, our Cause is ripe,
The Enemy encreaseth every Day,
We at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a Tide in the Affairs of Men,
Which taken at the Flood, leads on to Fortune;
Omitted, all the Voyage of their Life,
Is bound in Shallows, and in Miseries.
On such a full Sea, are we now --float,
And we must take the Current when it serves,
Or lose onir Ventures.
Caf. Then with your will go on; we will along
Our felves, and meet them at Philippi.
Bru. The deep of Night is crept upon our T lk,
And Nature must obey Necessity,
Which we will niggard with a little Reft ;
There is no more to say.
Caf. No more; good Night ;
Early to Morrow we will rise, and hence.