(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.

Caf. 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 the door.

[Exeunt SCENE changes to the Infide of Brutus's Tent. Re-enter Brutus and Caffius.

Caf. TH

HAT 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 your felf to write in such a cafe
Caf. In fuch a time as this, it is not meet

That ev'ry nice offence fhould bear its comment.
Bru. Yet let me tell you, Caffius, you your felf
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
To fell, and mart your offices for gold,
To undefervers..

Caf. I an itching palm?

You know, that you are Brutus, that speak this
Or, by the Gods, this fpeech were else your last.
Bru. The name of Caffius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide its head..
Caf. 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 ftab,
And not for juftice? what, fhall one of us,
That ftruck the foremost man of all this world,
But for fupporting robbers; fhall we now
Contaminate our fingers with bafe bribes ?
And fell the mighty space of our large honours.

FOR

For fo much trash, as may be grafped thus ?-
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than fuch a Roman.

Caf. Brutus, bay not me,

I'll not endure it; you forget your felf,
To hedge me in; I am a foldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than your self
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 my felfHave 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 Gods! ye Gods! muft I endure all this?
Bru. All this! ay, 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 observe you? must I ftand and crouch
Under your tefty humour? by the Gods,
You shall digeft the venom of your spleen,
Tho' it do split you: For, from this day forth,
I'll ufe you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are wafpifh.

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-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 Cafar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov'd

I

Bru. Peace, peace, you durft not fo have tempted

him.

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; may do that, I fhall 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 respect 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 drachma's, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash,
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.

heart.

·Brutus hath riv'd my

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.
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

Revenge your felves 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'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 beeft 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'd ft. him

better

Than ever thou lov'dft Caffius.

Be

Bru. Sheath your dagger;

angry when you will, it fhall have fcope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour..
O Caffius, you are yoaked with a Lamb,
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, fhews a hafty 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 fpoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Caf. Do you confess so much? give me your hand.
Bru. And my heart too.
[Embracing,
Gaf. O Brutus!

Bru, What's the matter?

Caf. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash 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 fo.

[A noife within
Poet [within.] Let me go in to fee the Generals;
There is fome grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
They be alone..

Luc.

Luc. [avithin.] 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'm 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 know his humour, when he knows his

time;

What should the wars do with these jingling fools?

Companion, hence.

Caf. Away, away, begone.

Enter Lucilius, and Titinius.

[Exit Poet.

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders

Prepare to lodge their companies to night.

Caf. And come your felves, and bring Messala 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. Of your philosophy you make no use,

If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears forrow better

Caf. Ha! Porcia!

Bru. She is dead.

-Porcia's dead.

Caf. How 'fcap'd I killing, when I croft you fo? O infupportable and touching lofs!

Upon what fickness ?

Bru. Impatient of my absence;

And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony

Have made themselves fo ftrong: (for with her death

That tydings came) With this the fell distract,

And (her Attendants absent) swallow'd fire.

Caf. And dy'd fo?

Bru