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- Edition: Julius Caesar
Julius Caesar (Folio 1, 1623)
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The Tragedie of Julius Caesar 125
2037Bru. No.
2043There is no terror Cassius in your threats:
2045That they passe by me, as the idle winde,
2047For certaine summes of Gold, which you deny'd me,
2048For I can raise no money by vile meanes:
2049By Heauen, I had rather Coine my Heart,
2050And drop my blood for Drachmaes, then to wring
2051From the hard hands of Peazants, their vile trash
2053To you for Gold to pay my Legions,
2054Which you deny'd me: was that done like Cassius?
2056When Marcus Brutus growes so Couetous,
2058Be ready Gods with all your Thunder-bolts,
2059Dash him to peeces.
2060Cassi. I deny'd you not.
2061Bru. You did.
2062Cassi. I did not. He was but a Foole
2063That brought my answer back. Brutus hath riu'd my hart:
2065But Brutus makes mine greater then they are.
2067Cassi. You loue me not.
2068Bru. I do not like your faults.
2070Bru. A Flatterers would not, though they do appeare
2071As huge as high Olympus.
2074For Cassius is a-weary of the World:
2075Hated by one he loues, brau'd by his Brother,
2076Check'd like a bondman, all his faults obseru'd,
2077Set in a Note-booke, learn'd, and con'd by roate
2078To cast into my Teeth. O I could weepe
2079My Spirit from mine eyes. There is my Dagger,
2080And heere my naked Breast: Within, a Heart
2081Deerer then Pluto's Mine, Richer then Gold:
2082If that thou bee'st a Roman, take it foorth.
2083I that deny'd thee Gold, will giue my Heart:
2087Bru. Sheath your Dagger:
2090O Cassius, you are yoaked with a Lambe
2091That carries Anger, as the Flint beares fire,
2093And straite is cold agen.
2095To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,
2096When greefe and blood ill temper'd, vexeth him?
2099Bru. And my heart too.
2100Cassi. O Brutus!
2101Bru. What's the matter?
2102Cassi. Haue not you loue enough to beare with me,
2103When that rash humour which my Mother gaue me
2104Makes me forgetfull.
2106When you are ouer-earnest with your Brutus,
2107Hee'l thinke your Mother chides, and leaue you so.
2108Enter a Poet.
2110There is some grudge betweene 'em, 'tis not meete
2111They be alone.
2114Cas. How now? What's the matter?
2118Cas. Ha, ha, how vildely doth this Cynicke rime?
2121Brut. Ile know his humor, when he knowes his time:
2123Companion, hence.
2125Bru. Lucillius and Titinius bid the Commanders
2126Prepare to lodge their Companies to night.
2128Immediately to vs.
2129Bru. Lucius, a bowle of Wine.
2133If you giue place to accidentall euils.
2135Cas. Ha? Portia?
2136Bru. She is dead.
2141And greefe, that yong Octauius with Mark Antony
2147Cas. O ye immortall Gods!
2148Enter Boy with Wine, and Tapers.
2149Bru. Speak no more of her: Giue me a bowl of wine,
2152Fill Lucius, till the Wine ore-swell the Cup:
2153I cannot drinke too much of Brutus loue.
2154Enter Titinius and Messala.
2155Brutus. Come in Titinius:
2156Welcome good Messala:
2159Cass. Portia, art thou gone?
2160Bru. No more I pray you.
2161Messala, I haue heere receiued Letters,
2162That yong Octauius, and Marke Antony
2163Come downe vpon vs with a mighty power,
2164Bending their Expedition toward Philippi.
ll3 Mess.