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I will consider ; what you have to say,
Cas. I am glad that my weak words
76. The Quarrel of Brutus and Cassius.
Cassius. 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 of.
Brutus. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Cas. I an itching palm ?
Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption,
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,
shall we now
Cas. Brutus, bay not me;
Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Cas. Urge me no more; I shall forget myself;
Bru. Away, slight man !
Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. –
Cas. 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? 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,
you wrong me, Brutus, I said, an elder soldier ; not a better. Did I
better? Bru. If you did, I care not. 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 may do what I shall be
denied me; was that done like Cassius?
Cas. I denied you not.
Cas. I did not; - he was but a fool
A friend should bear a friend's infirmities;
Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.
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 lov’dst him better Than ever thou lov’dst Cassius.
Bru. Sheathe your dagger; Be angry
when you will, it shall have scope
Cas. Hath Cassius lived
Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too.
Bru. What's the matter ?
Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me,
gave me, Makes me forgetful?
Bru. Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth,
77. Pen, Ink, and Paper.
THERE was little in my inkstand, and nothing in my head, when I sat down, with a fair sheet of Bath-post before me, to write an essay for a lady's portfolio. At first, with a degree of self-complacency, which, perhaps, none but an author in favor can feel, I contemplated the blank under my eye, which was to be enlivened by my wit, or enriched with my eloquence.
As I mended my pen to begin, thought I, “The wisest men on earth could not anticipate what I shall do here, nor the shrewdest guess the subject which will speedily adorn these
pages; for I myself am not yet in the secret, nor do I know what I am going to write.” This reflection startled me, and “What will it be?” came with such importunity into my mind, that I could not help replying, "What, indeed!” There was silence among my thoughts
a deadwhite silence; and though I called them, — called them repeatedly and earnestly, as if I were a drowning man, to come to my assistance, not one would move or speak.
I looked with consternation around, but saw nothing except pen, ink, and paper; nay, do what I would, I could make no more of them; pen, ink, and paper they were, and remained. Every moment increased my perplexity, for whatever might be their good-will, or their occult capabilities, they could do nothing for me of themselves ; the pen could