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Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear its comment.
Bru. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm;
To sell and mart your offices for gold,
To undeservers.

Cas. I an itching palm!

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

your last!
Bru. The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
And chastisement doth therefore hide its head.

Cas. Chastisement!

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 honours,
For so much trash as may be grasped thus ?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.

Cas. Brutus, bay not me!

I'll not endure it; you forget yourself
To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Cas. I am!

Bru. I say, you are not.

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 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 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.

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say you are a better soldier;

Brutus and Cassius.

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;

Did I say better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

325

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.

Cas. What! durst not tempt him?

Bru. For your life you durst not.

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love;

I do that I shall be sorry for.

may

Bru. You have done that you
should be sorry for.
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.

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

Το you for gold to pay my legions,

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!

Cas. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not ;-he was but a fool

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.

Cas. You love me not!

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 a-weary of the world :

Hated by one he loves-braved by his brother—

Checked like a bondman-all his faults observed.

Set in a note-book-learned and conned by rote,
To cast into my teeth-O, I 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 be'st a Roman, take it forth.
I that denied thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike as thou didst at Cæsar; for I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

Bru. Sheathe your dagger;

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius! you are yokèd with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fire ;
Which, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cas. Hath Cassius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him?
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too.
Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Bru. And my heart too.

Cas. O Brutus !

Bru. What's the matter ?

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

Bru. Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

5.-PRINCE ARTHUR AND HUBERT.

SHAKSPEARE.

[See page 314.]

Hubert. Heat me these irons hot; and, look thou, stand Within the arras; when I strike my foot

Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth

And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,

Fast to the chair. Be heedful. Hence, and watch.

First Attendant. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you; look to't.

[Exeunt ATTENDANTS.

Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

Enter ARTHUR.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub.

Prince Arthur and Hubert.

Good morrow, little prince.

Arth. As little prince (having so great a title To be more prince) as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Mercy on me!

Arth.
Methinks, nobody should be sad but I.
Yet I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my Christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be merry as the day is long:
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me:
He is afraid of me, and I of him.

Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ?
No, indeed, is't not. And I would to heaven
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate,
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead;
Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch.

[Aside.

Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day :

In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
That I might sit all night and watch with you.
I warrant I love you more than you do me.
Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom.
Read here, young Arthur.

How now, foolish rheum!
Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
I must be brief, lest resolution drop

[Showing a Paper.
[Aside.

Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.-
Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ ?
Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect.
Must you
with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
Hub. Young boy, I must.

Arth.

Hub.

Arth. Have you the heart?

I knit my handkerchief about

And will you?

And I will.

327

When your head did but ache, your brows

(The best I had, a princess wrought it me),

And I did never ask it you again;

And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,

Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time,

P

Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Or, What good love may I perform for you
Many a poor man's son would have lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But you, at your
sick service, had a prince.
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning. Do, an' if
will;

you

If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes that never did, nor never shall,
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 his 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 hammer'd iron ?
An' if an angel should have come to me,

And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believed no tongue but Hubert's.
Hub. Come forth!

Re-enter ATTENDANTS, with cords, irons, etc.

Do as I bid you.

Arth. Oh! 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 iron angerly.

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.

[Stamps.

First Attendant. 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. Is there no remedy?

Hub.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

None but to lose your eyes.

Arth. Oh! 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 boist'rous 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

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