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Ambition should be made of sterner fluff.
Yet Bratus says, he was ambitious ;
And Brutus is an honourable man.'
You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown ;
Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ?
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause,
What cause with-holds you then to mourn for him!
judgment ! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason.-Bear with me.-
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle ; I remember,
The first time ever Cæfar
'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii-
Look ! in this place ran Caffius' dagger through ;-
See what a rent the envious Casca made.-
Through this the well-beloved Brutus ftabb’d;
And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it !
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd,
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no :
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel.
Judge, oh ye gods ! how dearly. Cæsar lov'd him ;
This, this was the unkindest cut of all ;
For when the noble Cæfar saw him ftab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Quite vanquish'd him ; then burst his mighty heart;
And, in his mantle mufling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey's ftatue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fall,
Oh what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I and you, and all of us fell down.
Whilft bloody treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind souls ; what, weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded ? look you here !
Here is himself, marr'd, as you fee, by traitors.
Goou friends, fweet friends, let me not stir you up
To any sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done this deed are honourable.
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it ; they are wise and honourable ;
And will, no doubt, with reason answer
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts ;
I am no orator, as Brutus is ;
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That loves my friend : and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him :
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action nor utt'rance, nor
power of speech, To ftir men's blood ; I only speak right on : I tell you that which you yourselves do know ; Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths ! And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony · Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
wound of Cæsar, that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny,
THE QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS. CAS.
you have wrong'd me doth appear in this:
You have condemn’d and noted Lucius Pella, For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; Wherein my letter (praying on his fide, Because I knew the man) was slighted of.
Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in fuch a case.
CAs. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That ev'ry nice 'offence should bear its comment.
Bru. Yet let me tell you, Caffius, you yourfelf
Are much condemned to have an itching palm,
To sell and mart your offices for gold.
Cas. I an itching palm ?
You'know, that you are Brutus that spake this,
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide its head.
CAS. Chastisement !.
Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice fake? 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 ; fhall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ?
And fell the mighty meed 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, bay not me,
I'll not endure it ; you forget yourself,
To hedge me in ; I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.
Brv. Go to ; you are not. Cassius.
CAs. I am.
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, flight man !
Cas. Is't possible ?
Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman ftyres ?
Cas. O gods ! ye gods ! must I endure all this ?
BRU. All this? ay more. Fret till your proud heart
Go, tell 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 fpleen,
Tho' it do split you: for from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea for my laughter,
When you are wafpish.
CAS. Is it come to this?
BRU, You say, you are a better foldier ;
Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cas. You wrong me every wa, -you wrong me,
I said, an elder foldier, not a better ;
Did I say better?
BRU. If you did, I care not.
Cas. When Cæsar liv’d, he durst not thushave mov’d me.
Brv. Peace, peace, you durft not so have tempted him.
CAs. I durft not!
CAs. What ? durft not tempt him?
you durft not.
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love ;
1 may do what I shall be forry for.
Bru. You have done that you should be sorry 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 money by vile meanis.
By heav'n, I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hand of peasants their vile trash,
By any indirection. I did fend
To you for gold to pay my legions,
you denied me ; was that done like Cassius ?
Should I have answer'd Caius Caffius fo ?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock fucli rascal counters from his friends,