For I am armed 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?
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 thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces!

Cas.

Bru. You did.

I denied you not.

Cas. I did not; he was but a fool that brought
My answer back. Brutus hath rived my 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 not.

Bru.

I do not like your faults.

70

80

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. 90 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; braved by his brother;
Checked like a bondman°; all his faults observed,
Set in a note-book, learned, and conned by rote,
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep

100

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 denied thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike, as thou didst at Cæsar; for I know,
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him
better

Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

Bru.

Sheathe your dagger:

Be angry
when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.°
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 lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him?
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered 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 not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humor which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?

120

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

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

Lucil. [Within] You shall not come to them.

Poet. [Within] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet, followed by LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, and Lucius

Cas. How now! what's the matter?

Poet. For shame, you generals! what do you

mean?

130

Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;
For I have seen more years, I'm 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 humor, when he knows his time:

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

Cas.

140

Away, away, be gone! [Exit Poet. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. [Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITINIUS. Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine!

[Exit LUCIUS.

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. Cas. Ha! Portia!

Bru. She is dead.

Cas. How 'scaped I killing when I crossed you

so?

150

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 tidings came: with this she fell distract,

And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire.°

[Drinks.

Bru. Speak no more of her.

wine.

In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. 160 Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup;

I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. [Drinks. Bru. Come in, Titinius!

[Exit LUCIUS.

Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA

Welcome, good Messala.

Now sit we close about this taper here,

And call in question° our necessities.
Cas. Portia, art thou gone?

Bru.

No more, I pray you.