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I said, an elder soldier, not a better!—

Did I say better?

I

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;

may do that I shall be sorry for.

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

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. 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!

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 a 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 aweary of the world:

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Check'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. 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.-Sheath your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.
O, Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger, as the flint bears fire;
Who, 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-temper'd, vexeth him?
Bru.-When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Bru.-And my heart too!

Cas.-0, Brutus !

Bru.-What's the matter?

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Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me,

When that rash humor which my mother gave me,
Makes me forgetful?

Bru.-Yes, Cassius; and henceforth,

When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

BOBADIL'S MILITARY TACTICS.-BEN JONSON. With the bombastic expression of an empty braggart.]

And

I WILL tell you, Sir, by the way of private and under seal, I am a gentleman, and live here obscure and to myself; but, were I known to his majesty and the lords, observe me, I would undertake, upon this poor head and life, for the public benefit of the state, not only to spare the entire lives of his subjects in general, but to save the one half, nay, three parts of his yearly charge in holding war, and against what enemy soever. how would I do it, think you? Why thus, sir. I would select nineteen more to myself; gentlemen they should be, of a good spirit, strong and able constitution; I would choose them by an instinct, a character that I have: and I would teach these nineteen the special rules, as your Punto, your Reverso, your Stoccato, your Imbrocato, your Passado, your Montanto ;* till they could all play very near, or altogether as well as myself. This done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong, we twenty would come into the field the tenth of March or thereabouts; and we would challenge twenty of the enemy; they could not in their honor refuse us! Well, we would kill them; challenge twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them ; twenty more, kill them too: and thus would we kill, every man his twenty a day, that's twenty score; twenty score, that's two hundred; two hundred a day, five days a thousand forty thousand-forty times five, five times forty-two hundred days kills them all up by computation. And this I will venture my

*Terms of the Fencing-School.

poor gentleman-like carcase to perform, (provided there be no treason practised upon us,) by discreet manhood, that is, civilly by the sword.

MARC ANTONY'S ORATION.-SHAKS.

FRIENDS, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious;

If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cæsar answered it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest-
(For Brutus is an honorable man,

So are they all, all honorable men)—
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:

Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious!

When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff-

Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse.

Was this ambition?

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And sure he is an honorable man.

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause;

P

What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason!-Bear with me:
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might

Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.

O masters! if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you
all know, are honorable men:
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honorable men.

But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cæsar,
I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:

Let but the commons hear his testament,
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,

And they would go and kiss dear Cæsar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood:

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,

Unto their issue.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle; I remember
The first time ever Cæsar put it on;
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,-
That day he overcame the Nervii :—

Look, in this place, ran Cassius' dagger through:
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it,
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no!
For Brutus, as you know, was Cesar's angel.

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