Act IV, Scene III, Brutus’s tent

(A camp near Sardis) Brutus and Cassius argue violently over Cassius allowing his officers to accept brides. The quarrel ends when Cassius learns that Brutus’s anger is really the result of news that Portia is dead. That night Brutus is visited by the ghost of Caesar who tells Brutus he will meet at Philippi.

Act IV, Scent III Brutus’s tent

Enter Brutus and Cassius

CASSIUS

That you have wrong’d me doth appear in this:

You have condemn’d 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 off.

BRUTUS

You wronged yourself to write in such a case.

CASSIUS

In such a time as this it is not meet

That every nice offence should bear his comment.

BRUTUS

Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself

Are much condemn’d to have an itching palm;

To sell and mart your offices for gold

To undeservers.

CASSIUS

I an itching palm!

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,

Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.

BRUTUS

The name of Cassius honours this corruption,

And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

CASSIUS

Chastisement!

BRUTUS

Remember March, the ides of March remember:

Did not great Julius bleed for justice’ sake?

What villain touch’d 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.

CASSIUS

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.

BRUTUS

Go to; you are not, Cassius

CASSIUS

I am.

BRUTUS

I say you are not.

CASSIUS

Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;

Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.

BRUTUS

Away, slight man!

CASSIUS

Is’t possible?

BRUTUS

Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

CASSIUS

O ye gods, ye gods! Must I endure all this?

BRUTUS

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.

CASSIUS

Is it come to this?

BRUTUS

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,

I shall be glad to learn noble men.

CASSIUS

You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;

I said, an elder soldier, not a better:

Did I say ‘better?

BRUTUS

If you did, I care not.

CASSIUS

When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.

BRUTUS

Peace, peace! You durst not so have tempted him.

CASSIUS

I durst not!

BRUTUS

No.

CASSIUS

What, durst not tempt him!

BRUTUS

For your life you durst not!

CASSIUS

Do not presume too much upon my love;

I may do that I shall be sorry for.

BRUTUS

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 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!

CASSIUS

I denied you not.

BRUTUS

You did.

CASSIUS

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.

BRUTUS

I do not, till you practice them on me.

CASSIUS

You love me not.

BRUTUS

I do not like your faults.

CASSIUS

A friendly eye could never see such faults.

BRUTUS

A flatterer’s would not, though they do appear

As huge as high Olympus.

CASSIUS

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;

Cheque’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 hast thou be’st a Roman, take it forth;

I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:

Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better

Than ever thou loved Cassius.

BRUTUS

Sheathe your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;

Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.

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.

CASSIUS

Hath Cassius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,

When grief, and blood ill-temper’d vexeth him.

BRUTUS

When I spoke that, I was ill-temper’d too.

CASSIUS

Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.

BRUTUS

And my heart too.

CASSIUS

O Brutus!

BRUTUS

What’s the matter?

CASSIUS

Have not you love enough to bear with me,

When that rash humour which my mother gave me

Makes me forgetful?

BRUTUS

Yes, Cassius; and, forth henceforth,

When you are over-earnest with Brutus,

He’ll think your mother chides, and leave you so.

POET

[Within] Let me go in to see the generals;

There is some grudge between ‘em, ‘tis not meet

They be alone.

LUCILIUS

[Within] You shall not come to them.

POET

[Within] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter Poet, followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius

CASSIUS

How now! What the matter?

POET

For shame, you generals! What do you mean?

Love, and be friends, as two men should be;

For I have seen more years, I’m sure, than ye.

CASSIUS

Ha, ha! How vilely doth this cynic rhyme!

BRUTUS

Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!

CASSIUS

Bear with him, Brutus; ‘tis his fashion.

BRUTUS

I’ll know his humour, when he knows his time:

What should the wars do with these jigging fools?

Companion, hence?

CASSIUS

Away, away, be gone.