SCENE changes to the Infide of Brutus's Tent.

Re-enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS.

ད..

Caf. That you have wronged me doth appear inthis, (27)

You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella,
For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letter (praying on his fide,
Because I knew the man) was flighted of.

Bru. You wronged yourself to write in fuch a cafe.

Caf. In fuch a time as this it is not meet That every nice offence fhould bear its comment. Bru. Yet let me tell you, Caffius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palin;

(27) Caf. That you have wronged me, &c.] This famous quarrelling-fcene, which has given rife to fo many imitations, (particularly, in the Maid's Tragedy, Mr Dryden's alteration of Troilus and Creffida, and in his Don Sebaftia) and which was received with fo much applaufe, that it is spoken of in one of the preliminary copies of verfes to the firfe Folio impreffion of Shakespeare's works;

Or till I hear a fcene more nobly take

Than what thy half sword parlying Romans fpake: yet this fcene feems to me to have been fineered at by the fwordsmen in Beaumont and Fletcher's King and no King: as of late years it has met with a glancing attack, by way of banter, in a fcene betwixt Peachum and Lockit in the Beggar's Opera.- On the other hand, our Dryden had fo just an opinion of this fine fcene, that he has made no feruple to prefer it to the quarrel of Agamemnon and Menelaus, in the Ipbegenin in Avils of Euripides. "The particular groundwork (fays he) which Shakespeare has taken, is incomparably the beft; becaufe he has not only chofen two of the greatest heroes of the age, but has likewife interested the liberty of Rome and their own honours, who were the redeemers of it, in the debate." Preface to Trolius and Creffida.

To fell and mart your offices for gold,
To undefervers.

Caf. I an itching palm!

You know that you are Brutus that fpeak this; Or, by the Gods, this fpeech were elfe your lait.

Bru. The name of Caffius honours this corrüpAnd Chaftifement doth therefore hide its head. [tion, Caf. Chaftifement !

Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember!

Did not great Julius bleed for justice' fake ?
What villain touched his body, that did stab,
And not for juftice? what, fhall one of us,
That ftruck the foremost man of all this world
But for fupporting robbers; fhall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And fell the mighty space of our large honours
For fo much trafh as may be grasped thus ?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than fuch a Roman.

Caf. Brutus, bay not me,

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

Bru. Go to; you are not Caffius.
Caf. I am.

Bru. I fay you are not.

Caf. Urge me no more, I fhall forget myfelf---. Have mind upon your health--tempt me no further.

Bru. Away, flight man.

Caf. Is't poffible?

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Muft I give way and room to your rafh choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ?

Caf. O gods! ye gods! muft I endure all this?

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

Go fhew your flaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Muft I budge
Muft obferve you? muft I ftand and crouch
Under your tefty humour? By the gods,
You fhall digeft the venom of your fpleen,
Tho' it do fplit you: for, from this day forth,
I'll ufe you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are wafpifh.

Caf. Is it come to this?

Bru. You fay you are a better foldier;

Let it appear fo; make your vaunting true,
And it fhall pleafe me well.

For mine own part,

I fhall be glad to learn of noble men.

Caf. You wrong me every way---you wrong me, I faid an elder foldier; not a better.

Did I fay better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

[Brutus;

Caf. When Cæfar lived, he durft not thus have moved me.

Bru. Peace, peace, you durft not so have tempt ed him.

Caf. I durit not?

Bru. No.

Caf. What? durft not tempt him ?
Bru. For your life you durft not.

Caf. Do not prefume too much upon my love; I may do that I fhall be forry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be forry for There is no terror, Caffius, in your threats;

For I am armed fo ftrong in honesty,
That they pafs by me as the idle wind,
Which I refpect not. I did fend to you
For certain fums of gold, which you denied me;
For I can raise no money by vile means;
By Heaven, 1 had rather coin my heart,

And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, (28) By any indirection. I did fend

To you for gold to pay my legions,

Which you denied me; was that done like Caffius?
Should I have anfwered Caius Caffius fo?
When Marcus Brutus grows fo covetous,
To lock fuch rafcal counters from his friends,
Be ready, Gods, with all your thunderbolts,
Dafh him to pieces !

Caf. I denied you not.

Bru. You did.

Caf. I did not---he was but a fool

That brought my answer back.--Brutus hath riv'd my heart.

A friend fhould bear a friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru. I do not, 'till you practise them on me. (29)

(28) By any indirectnefs. This is a change of Mr Pope's in both his editions; for what reafon I don't know. The old copies read, indirection. It is a word elfewhere used by our Poet; and Mr Pope has paffed it quietly, in Polonius of Hamkt;

And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
With windlaces, and with affays of byafs,
By indirectins find directions out.

(29) I do not, till you practise them on me.] But, furely, this was a very poor excufe for the philofophic Brutus to make. He is accufed for making his friend's faults greater than they were; he replies, I do not, till they were injurious to myfelf. Why, a friend could have no motive of intereft, or pallion, to aggravate a friend's faults, till they were directed against himfelf; and that was the point he was to juftify himself upon why he aggravated fuch faults; which, furely, is an unjuft practice. I read therefore;

Bru. I do not; fill you practife them on me. i. e. I deny the charge, and must tell you further, that this charge is an addition to your faults. This, if I mistake not, gives fenfe and propriety. Mr Warburton.

Caf. You love me not.

Bru. I do not like your faults.

Caf. A friendly eye could never fee fuch faults. Bru. A flatt'rer's would not, tho' they do appear As huge as high Olympus.

Gaf. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come; Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,

For Caffius is a-weary of the world;

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Checked like a bondman; all his faults obferved;
Set in a note-book, learned, and conned by rote,
To caft into my teeth. I could weep

My fpirit 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 beeft a Roman, take it forth.
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart;
Strike, as thou didst at Cæfar; for I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him
Than ever thou lovedft Caffius.

Be

Bru. Sheath your dagger;

[better

angry when you will, it fhall have fcope;
Do what you will, difhonour fhall be humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, fhews a hafty fpark,
And ftraight is cold again.

Caf. Hath Caffius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him?

Bru. When I fpoke that I was ill-tempered too. Caf. Do you confefs. fo much? give me your [Embracing,

hand.

Bru. And my heart too.
Caf. O Brutus !

Bru. What's the matter?