CASSIUS Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world Hated by one he loves braved by his brother Cheque'd like a bondman all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote, To cast into my teeth. BRUTUS A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus. CASSIUS A friendly eye could never see such faults.
BRUTUS I do not, till you practise them on me. Brutus hath rived my heart: A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. CASSIUS I did not: he was but a fool that brought My answer back. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied 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 send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts Dash him to pieces! CASSIUS I denied you not. There is no terror, Cassius, 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. BRUTUS You have done that you should be sorry for. CASSIUS What, durst not tempt him! BRUTUS For your life you durst not! CASSIUS Do not presume too much upon my love I may do that I shall be sorry for. BRUTUS Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.
CASSIUS When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. CASSIUS You wrong me every way you wrong me, Brutus I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I say 'better'? BRUTUS If you did, I care not.
CASSIUS Is it come to this? BRUTUS You say you are a better soldier: Let it appear so make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well: for mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Must I budge? Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods You shall digest 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. BRUTUS All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble.
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