Caf. Brutus, bait not me,

I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in 5; I am a foldier, I,,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions".

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

Bru. I fay, you are not.

Caf. Urge me no more, I fhall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther." Bru. Away, flight man!

Caf Is't poffible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Muft I give way and room to your rafh choler?

Shall I be frighted, when a madman ftares?

Caf. O ye gods! ye gods! Muft I endure all this? Bru. All thisay, more: Fret, till your proud heart break;

Go, fhew your flaves how cholerick you are,

And make your bondmen tremble. Muft I budge ?
Muft I obfarve you? Muft I ftand and crouch
Under your tefly humour? By the gods,
You fhall digeft the venom of your spleen,
Though it do fplit you: for, from this day forth,
I'll ufe you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are wafpish.

Caf. Is it come to this?

Bru. You fay, you are a better foldier:

Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true,

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

I fhall be glad to learn of noble men.

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

Did I fay, better?

Bru. If you did, I care not..

Caf. When Cæsar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov’d me: Bru. Peace, peace; you durft not so have tempted him.

3 That is, to limit my authority by your direction or cenfure.. That is, to know on what terms it is fit to confer the offices which

are at my difpofal

Caf. I durft not?
Bru. No.

Caf. What? durft not tempt him?

Bru. For your life you durft not.

Caf. Do not prefume 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 fo ftrong in honesty,

That they pass by me, as the idle wind,
Which I refpect not. I did fend 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',
By any indirection. I did fend

Το you for gold to pay my legions,

Which you deny'd me: Was that done like Caffius?
Should I have anfwer'd Caius Caffius fo

When Marcus Brutus grows fo 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,

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

heart:

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

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Ꭰ 6

Caf.

7 This is a noble fentiment, altogether in character, and expreffed in a manner inimitably happy. For to wring, implies both to get unjufly, and to ufe force in getting: and bard bands fignify both the peafant's great labour and pains in acquiring, and his great unwillingness to quit his hold.

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 practising them on me.

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

Caj. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,

For Caffius is aweary of the world:

Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother;
Check'd like a bondman; all his faults obferv'd,
Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To calt into my teeth. O, I could weep
My fpirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger,
And here my naked breaft; 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'dft him better
Than ever thou lov'dft Caffius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger:

Be angry

when you will, it fhall have scope ; Do what you will, dishonour fhall be humour. O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb

That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, fhews a hafty spark,
And ftraight 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 fpoke that, I was ill-temper'd, too.
Caf. Do you confefs fo much? Give me your hand
Bru. And my heart too.

Caf. O Brutus !

Bru. What's the matter?

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

Make

I think he means, that he is fo far from avarice, when the cause of his country requires liberality, that if any man fhould wish for his heart, he would not need enforce his defire any otherwife, than by thew ing that he was a Roman. JOHNSON.

This feems only a form of adjuration like that of Brutus,

• Nữ as you are a R

oman, tell me true," BLACKSTONE,

Makes me forgetful?

Bru. Yes, Caffius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earneft with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you fo. [Noife within. Poet. [within. Let me go in to fee the generals; There is fome grudge between them, 'tis not meet They be alone.

Luc. [within.] You fhall not come to them.

Poet. [within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.
Enter Poet'.

Caf. How now? What's the matter?

Poet. For fhame, you generals; What do you mean?
Love, and be friends, as two fuch men should be;
For I have feen more years, I am fure, than ye.
Caf. Ha, ha; how vilely doth this cynick rhime!
Bru. Get you hence, firrah; faucy 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 jigging fools2?
Companion, hence 3.

Caj. Away, away, be gone.

Enter LUCILIUS, and 'TITINIUS.

[Exit Poet.

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders

Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

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

Caf. I did not think, you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Caffius, I am fick of many griefs.

Caf.

* Shakspeare found the present incident in Plutarch. The intruder, however, was Marcus Phaonius, who had been a friend and follower of Cato; not a poet, but one who affumed the character of a cynic phi lofopher.

* i. e. with thefe filly poets. A jig fignified, in our authour's time, a metrical compofition, as well as a dance.

3 Companion is ufed as a term of reproach in many of the old plays; as we fay at prefent-fellow.

I fcorn you, fcurvy companion," &c. STEEVINS.

Caf. Of your philofophy you make no use,

If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears forrow better:-Portia is dead.
Caf. Ha! Portia ?

Bru. She is dead.

Caf. How fcap'd I killing, when I crofs'd you fo?— O infupportable and touching lofs!Upon what fickness?

Bru. Impatient of my abfence;

And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony
Have made themfelves fo ftrong; for with her death
That tidings came ;-With this fhe fell diftract,
And, her attendants abfent, fwallow'd fire.

Caf. And dy'd fo?

Bru. Even fo.

Caf. O ye immortal gods!

Enter LUCIUS, with wine, and tapers.

Bru. Speak no more of her.-Give me a bowl of

wine:

In this I bury all unkindness, Caffius.

Caf. My heart is thirfty for that noble pledge.

Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'er-fwell the cup;

I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.

Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA.

[drinks.

[drinks.

Bru. Come in, Titinius :-Welcome, good Meffala.Now fit we close about this taper here,

And call in question our neceffities.

Caf. Portia art thou gone?

Bru. No more, I pray you.

Meffala, I have here received letters,
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony,
Come down upon us with a mighty power,
Bending their expedition toward Philippi..
Mef. Myfelf have letters of the self-fame tenour.
Bru. With what addition?

Mef. That by profcription, and bills of outlawry,
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,

Have put to death an hundred fenators.

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree;