Within. Stand!

Caf. Moft noble brother, you have done me wrong. Bru. Judge me, you Gods! Wrong I mine enemies?

And, if not fo, how should I wrong a brother?

Bru. Brutus, this fober form of yours hides wrongs; And when you do them

Bru. Caffius, be content,

Speak your griefs softly. I do know you well :-
Before the eyes of both our armies here,
Which should perceive nothing but love from us,
Let us not wrangle: Bid them move away;
Then in my tent, Caffius, enlarge your griefs,
And I will give you audience.

Cas. Pindarus,

Bid our commanders lead their charges off
A little from this ground.

Bru. Lucilius, do the like; and let no man
Come to our tent, till we have done our conference.

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

The Inside of BRUTUS's Tent. Enter BRUTUS and

CASSIUS.

Caf. That 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 flighted off. Bru. You wrong'd yourself, to write in such a cafe. Caf. In such a time as this, it is not meet That every nice offence should bear its comment.(2) Bru. Let me tell you, Caffius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm ; To fell and mart your offices for gold, To undeservers.

Caf. I an itching palm?

You know, that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the Gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Caffius honours this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide its head.

Caf. Chastisement !

(2) i. e. Every small trifling offence. WARB,

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 fupporting robbers; shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ?
And fell the mighty space of our large honours,
For fo much trash, as may be grasped thus ?-
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, (3)
Than fuch a Roman.

Caf. Brutus, bay not me;
I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in ; (4) I am a foldier; ay,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.(5)

Bru. Go to; you are not, Caffius.
Caf. I am.

Bru. I fay, you are not.

Caf, Urge me no more; I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health,-tempt me no further.

Bru. Away, flight man!

Caf. Is't poffible ?

Bru. Hear me, for I will fpeak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler ?
Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares ?

Caf. O Gods! ye Gods! Must I endure all this?
Bru. All this! ay, more: Fret, till your proud heart

break;

Go, shew your flaves 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 digeft the venom of your spleen,

Though it do split you: for, from this day forth,

I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

Caf. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say, you are a better foldier :

Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true,

And it shall please me well: For mine own part,

I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Caf. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; faid an elder foldier, not a better :

Did I say, better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

Caf. When Cæfar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov'd me. Bru. Peace, peace; you durft not fo have tempted him. Caf. I durst not!

Bru. No.

Caf. What! durst not tempt him?

Bru. For your life, you durst not.

Caf. Do not presume too much upon my love;

I may do that, I shall be forry 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 fums of gold, which you deny'd 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,(6)
By any indirection. I did send

To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which you deny'd me: Was that done like Caffius ?
Should I have answer'd Caius Caffius so ?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock fuch rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, Gods, with all your thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces !

Caf. I deny'd you not.
Bru. You did.

Caf. I did not :-he was but a fool,

(6) This is a noble sentiment, altogether in character, and expressed in a manner inimitably happy. For to wring, implies both to get unjustly, and to use force in getting: and hard hands fignify both the peasant's great labour and pains in acquiring, and his great unwillingness to quit his hold. WARB.

That brought my answer back-Brutus, hath riv'd my

heart:

A friend should bear a friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.(7)
Caf. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Caf. A friendly eye could never fee fuch faults.
Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear
As huge as high Olympus.

Caf. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,
For Caffius is a-weary of the world:
Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother;
Check'd like a bondman; all his faults observ'd,
Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To caft into my teeth. O, I could weep
My fpirit 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 deny'd thee gold, will give my heart :
Strike as thou didst at Cæfar; for, I know,
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'ft him better
Than ever thou lov'dst Caffius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire,
Who, much enforced, shews a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Caf. Hath Caffius liv'd

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him?

Bru. 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?

[Embracing.

Caf. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour, which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

(7) The meaning is this; I do not look for your faults, I only fee them, and mention them with vehemence, when you force them into my notice, by practifing them on me.' JOHNS.

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

[A Noise within.

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

Luc. [within.] You shall not come to them.
Poet [within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet.

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 am fure, than ye. Caf. Ha, ha-how vilely doth this cynick rhime! Bru. Get you hence, firrah; saucy 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 jingling fools ? -Companion, hence.

Caf. Away, away, be gone.

[Exit Poet.

Enter LUCILIUS and TITINIUS. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders

Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Caf. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you, Immediately to us. Exe. LUCILIUS and TITINIUS. Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine.

Cas. I did not think, you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Caffius, I am fick of many griefs.
Caf. Of your philofophy you make no use,

If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears forrow better :-Portia's dead. Cas. Ha! Portia!-

Bru. She is dead.

Caf. How scap'd I killing, when I cross'd you so ?-

O insupportable and touching lofs!

Upon what fickness ?

Bru. Impatient of my abfence,

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, swallow'd fire.

Caf. And dy'd fo?

VOL. VI.

Y