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

"Go, fhew your flaves how choleric you are,

"And make your bondmen tremble. Muft I budge ?
Muft obferve you! muft I ftand and crouch
Under your tefty humour? By the gods,
You fhall digeft the venom of your fpleen,.
Though it do fplit 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 fay, you are a better foldier;
Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true,
And it fhall pleafe me well. For mine own part,
I fhall be glad to learn of noble men.

Caf. You wrong me every way -
I faid, an elder foldier; not a better.
Lid I fay better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

you wrong me...

[Brutus ;

Caf. When Cæfar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov'd me.

E. Peace, peace, you durft not fo have tempted him. Caf. I durft not.

Bru. No.

Cof. 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 thall be forry for.

Bru. You have done that you fhould be forry for. "There is no terror, Caffius, in your threats;

"For I am arm'd fo firong in honesty,

"That they pafs by me, as the idle wind,
"Which I respect not. I did fend to you

"For certain fums of gold, which you deny'd me ;
"For I can raife no money by vile means:
By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,

"And drop my blood for drachma's, than to wring
"From the hard hands of peasants their vile trafh,
"By any indirection. I did fend

"To you for gold to pay my legions,

"Which you denied me? Was that done like Caffius

Should I have anfwer'd Caius Caffius fo? "When Marcus Brutus grows fo covetous, "To lock fuch rafcal 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 should bear a friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Bru. I do not. Still you practise them on me.
Caf. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Caf. A friendly eye could never fee fuch faults. Bru. A flatt'rer's would not, tho' 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 obferv'd;
Set in a note-book, learn'a, and conn'd by rote,
To caft into my teeth. OI could weep

My spirit 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 needít a Roman's, 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'dst him better
Than ever thou lov'dft Caffius.

Bru. Sheath your dagger;

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;

"Do what you will, difhonour fhall be humour..

"O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb,

"That carries anger, as the flint bears fire; "Who much inforced, fhews a hafty fpark, "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 so much? give me your hand.
Bru. And my heart too.
[Embracing,

Caf. O Brutus !

Bru. What's the matter?

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

Bru. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth

When you are over earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so *.
Enter Lucilius and Titinius.

SCENE

IV.

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 fo angry. Bru. O Caffius, I am fick of many griefs.

Caf. Of your philofophy you make no ufe,

• If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears forrow better-Portia's dead.

and leave you fo,

Poet. [within.] Let me go in to fee the Genera's;
There is fome 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 Paet.

Caf. How now? what's the matter!

[A noife within

Poct. For fhame, you Generals; what do you mean? Love, and be friends, as two fuch men fhould be;

For I have feen more years, I'm fure, than ye.

Caf. Ha, ha-how vilely doth this cynic 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 fhould the wars do with thefe jingling fools?
Companion, hence.

Caf. Away, away, begone.

SCENE, br.

[Exit Poet.

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Gaf. How 'fcaped I killing, when I cross'd you fo? O infupportable and touching lofs!

Upon what ficknefs?

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 the 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.

Drinks.

Gaf. My heart is thirty for that noble pledge. Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erfwell the cup;

I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.

Bru. Come in, Titinius ;-welcome, good Meffala.

SCENE V. Enter Titinius and Meffula.

Now fit we clofe about this taper here,

And call in queftion our neceffities.

Caf. O 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 tow'rd Philippi.

Mef. Myfelf have letters of the self-fame tenor.
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;

Mine speak of fev'nty fenators that dy'd

By their profcriptions, Cicero being one,

Caf. Cicero one?

Mef. Cicero is dead; and by that order of profcription. Had you your letters from your wife, my Lord?

Bru. No, Meffala.

Mef. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
Bru Nothing, Meffala.

Mef. That methinks is strange.

Bru. Why afk you? hear you aught of her in your's?
Mef. No, my Lord,

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
Mef. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell;
For certain fhe is dead, and by ftrange manner.
Bru. Why, fareweł, Portia- -we muft die, Meffala.

With meditating that the muft die once,

I have the patience to endure it now.

Mef. Ev'n fo great men great loffes should endure. Caf. I have as much of this in art * as you; But yet my nature could not bear it fo.

Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently?

Caf. I do not think it good.

Bru. Your reafon?

Gaf. This it is:

'Tis better that the enemy

feek us;

So fhall he wafte his means, weary his foldiers,

Doing himself offence; whilft we lying ftill,

Are full of reft, defence, and nimbleness.

Bru. Good reafons muft of force give place to better. The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground,

Do ftand but in a forc'd affection;

For they have grudg'd us contribution.
The enemy, marching along by them,
By them fhall make a fuller number up,"

Come on refresh'd, new added, and encourag'd;
From which advantage fhall we cut him off,

If at Philippi we do face him there,

These people at our back.

Caf. Hear me, good brother

Bru. Under your pardon..

You must note befide,.

That we have try'd the utmost of our friends,

Our legions are brim-full, our caufe is ripe
The enemy increaseth every day,

We, at the height, are ready to decline..
There is a tide in the affairs of men,,

• art, for philofophy,.

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