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Within the Tent of BRUTUS.
Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case.
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
I an itching palm ?
Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption, And chastisement does therefore hide his head.
Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember. Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours, For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Cas.
Brutus, bait not me, I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,
Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself:
Bru. Away, slight man!
Hear me, for I will speak.
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 choleric 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
Is it come to this?
Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;
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 bave tempted him. Cas. I durst not? Bru. No. Cas. What! durst not tempt him?
Did I say,
For your life you durst pot.
I denied you not.
I did not: he was but a fool,
Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.
I do not like your faults.
Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear
Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd,
There is my dagger,
Sheath your dagger.
Hath Cassius liy'd
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too.
What's the matter?
Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He ʼll think your mother chides, and leave you so. [Noise within.
Poet. (Within.] Let me go in to see the generals.
Luc. [Within.] You shall not come to them.
Poet. For shame, you generals! What do you mean?
Cas. Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme.
Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time.
Away, away! be gone. [Exit Poet.
Enter LUCILIUS and TITINIUS.
Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you,
[Exeunt Lucilius and TITINIUS, Bru,
Lucius, a bowl of wine.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,
Bru. No man bears sorrow better. - Portia is dead.
Cas. How scap'd I killing, when I cross'd you so?
Impatient of my absence,
Cas. And died so?