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Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remem
Did not great Julius bleed, for justice sake?
Cas. Brutus, bay not me,
I'll not endure it; I am a soldier, I,
Bru. Go to: you are 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 farther.
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?
Cas. O gods! ye gods! must I endure all this? Bru. All this! ay, more. Fret, till your proud heart breaks;
Go show your slaves how choleric you are,
Cas. Is it come to this?
Bru. You say, you are a better soldier; Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well.
For my own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cas. You wrong me, every way—you wrong me, Brutus;
I said, an elder soldier; not a better.
Bru. If you did, I care not.
Cas. When Cæsar liv'd, he durst not thus have mov'd
Bru. Peace, peace, you durst not so have tempted him.
Cas. I durst not?
Cas. What! durst not tempt him?
Bru. For your life, you durst not.
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love; do that I shall be sorry for.
Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am arm'd so much in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
For certain sums of gold, which you deny'd me :—
To you for gold, to pay my legions,
Which you deny'd me:
-Was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?—
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
Be ready, gods, with all
Bru. You did.
Cos. I did not- -he was but a fool, That brought my answer back
-Brutus hath riv'd
A friend should bear a friend's infirmities;
Bru. I do not like your faults.
Cos. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, tho' they do appear As huge as high Olympus.
Cos. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come; Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is a-weary of the world;
Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother;
O I could weep
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;
Cas. Hath Cassius liv'd
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too. Cas. Do you confess so much? give me your
Bru. And my heart too.
Cas. O Brutus !
Bru. 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 from henceforth,
When you are over earnest with your Brutus,
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.
If you give place to accidental evils.
Bru. No man bears sorrow better—Portia's dead. Cas. Ha! Portia?
Bru. She is dead.
Cas. How 'scap'd I killing, when I cross'd you so? 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
Those tidings came) with this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire.
Cas. And dy'd so?
Bru. Even so.
Cas. O ye immortal gods!
Enter Lucius, with Wine.
Bru. Speak no more of her; give me a bowl of wine.
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius;
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.
Enter Casca and Trebonius.
Now sit we close about this taper here,
Bru. No more, I pray you
Trebonius, I have here received letters,
Tre. That by proscription, and bills of outlawry, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
Have put to death an hundred senators.
Cas. Cicero one?
Tre. Cicero is dead; and by that order of pro
Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
Tre. Nor nothing in your letters writ of heri
Tre. That, methinks, is strange.
Bru. Why ask you? hear you aught of her, in yours?
Tre. No, my lord.
Bru: Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
With meditating that she must die once,