Bru. Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies? And, if not fo, how fhould I wrong a brother? Caf. Brutus, this fober form of yours hides

wrongs;

And when you do them

Bru. Caffius, be content,

Speak your griefs foftly,-I do know you well:
Before the eyes of both our armies here,

Which fhould 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 you the like; and let no man

Come to our tent, 'till we have done our conference. Let Lucius and l'itinius guard our door.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The infide of BRUTUS' Tent.
Enter BRUTUS, and CASSIUS.

Caf. That you have wrong'd me, doth appear in

this:

You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Peila,
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 fuch a cafe.
Caf. In fuch a time as this, it is not meet

That every nice offence fhould bear his comment.
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 undefervers.

Caf. I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus that fpeak this,
Or, by the gods, this fpeech were elfe your laft.

Metz del.

JULIUS CASSAR Act 2. Sc. 3.

Published as the act directs by Bellamy & Robarts July 1.1789.

Taylor sculp

Bru. The name of Caffius honours this corruption, And chaftifement doth therefore hide his head.

Caf. Chaftifement!

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March re\member!

Did not great Julius bleed for juftice' fake?
What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,
And not for juftice? What, fhall one of us,
That ftruck the foremaft man of all this world,
But for fupporting robbers; fhall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ?
And fell the mighty fpace of our large honours,
For fo much trafh, 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 yourself,
To hedge me in; 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. 1 fay, you are not.

Caf. Urge me no more, I fhall 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.

Muft I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted, when a madman ftares?

Caf. a ye 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 obferve you? muft I ftand and crouch Under your tefty 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

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

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;
I may do that I fhall be forry for.

Bru. You have done that you fhall be forry for.
There is no terror, Caffius, in your threats;
For I am arm'd fo ftrong in honefty,

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 drachmas, 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 deny'd me: Was that done like Caffius?
Should I have answer'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,
Dath him to pieces!

Caf. I deny'd you not,

Bru.