So much as frown on you?

Hub.

I have sworn to do it;

And with hot irons must I burn them out.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it!
The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench its fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence:

Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.

Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron?
An if an angel should have come to me,

And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes,

I would not have believed him; no tongue, but Hubert's.
Hub. Come forth. [Stamps. Reënter Attendants.]

Do as I bid you.

Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out, Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.

Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
Arth.

Alas! what need you be so boisterous rough?

I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.

For Heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons angrily.

Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.

Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
1 Att. I am best pleased to be from such a deed.
[Exeunt Attendants.]

Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend:
He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart.
Let him come back, that his compassion may

Give life to yours.

Hub.

Arth.

Hub.

Arth.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

Is there no remedy?

None, but to lose your eyes.

O, Heaven! — that there were but a mote in yours,

A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,

Any annoyance in that precious sense!

Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there,

Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue.

Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes.

Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert !
Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes,
Though to no use, but still to look on you!
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,
And would not harm me.

Hub.

I can heat it, boy.

Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief,

Being create for comfort,

In undeserved extremes.

to be used
See else yourself:

There is no malice in this burning coal;

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,

And strewed repentant ashes on his head.

Hub.

But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert;
Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes,
And, like a dog, that is compelled to fight,
Snatch at his master that does tarre him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office: only you do lack

That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends, -
Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.

Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes.
Yet I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy,

With this same very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while You were disguised.

Hub.

Peace; no more:

Adieu!

Your uncle must not know but you are dead :
I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports.

And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,

Will not offend thee.

Arth.

O, Heaven! I thank

you,

Hubert.

Hub. Silence: no more. Go closely in with me: Much danger do I undergo for thee.

Shakspeare.

CCCLXXIII.

QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.

CASSIU

ASSIUS. That you have wronged me, doth appear in this:

You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella

For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein, my letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, were slighted off.

Brutus. You wronged yourself to write in such a case.
Cas. At such a time as this, it is not meet

That every

nice offence should bear its comment. Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold,

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last!

Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?

What villain touched his body, that did stab,

And not for justice? What! shall one of us,
That struck the foremost man of all this world,
But for supporting robbers, shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honors
For so much trash as may be grasped thus? -

I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,

Than such a Roman!

Cas. Urge me no more: I shall forget myself. Have mind upon your health; tempt me no farther! Bru. Away, slight man!

Cas. Is 't possible?

Bru.

Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cas O ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this?

Bru. All this? ay, more! Fret till your proud heart break;

Go, show your slaves how choleric you are,

And make your bondmen tremble! Must I budge?
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humor? 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 !

Cas.

Is it come to this?

Bru. 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.

Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus I said, an elder soldier, not a better.

Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.

Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him!

Cas. I durst not?

Bru. No.

I

Cas. What? durst not tempt him?

Bru.

For your life, you

durst not!

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love; may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry There is no terror, Cassius, in your

threats;

For I am armed so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not. 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,

for.

Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answered 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!

That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart;

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.
You love me not.

Cas.

Bru.

I do not like your faults.
Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.
Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear

As huge as high Olympus.

Cas. 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;

Checked like a bondman; all his faults observed,