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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 Caesar; for, I know,

      When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better

      Than ever thou lovedst 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, from henceforth,

      When you are over-earnest with your 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 ’s the matter?

      Poet

      For shame, you generals! what do you mean?

      Love, and be friends, as two such 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.

      Exit Poet

      BRUTUS

      Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders

      Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

      CASSIUS

      And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you

      Immediately to us.

      Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITINIUS

      BRUTUS

      Lucius, a bowl of wine!

      Exit LUCIUS

      CASSIUS

      I did not think you could have been so angry.

      BRUTUS

      O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.

      CASSIUS

      Of your philosophy you make no use,

      If you give place to accidental evils.

      BRUTUS

      No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.

      CASSIUS

      Ha! Portia!

      BRUTUS

      She is dead.

      CASSIUS

      How ’scaped I killing when I cross’d you so?

      O insupportable and touching loss!

      Upon what sickness?

      BRUTUS

      Impatient of my absence,

      And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony

      Have made themselves so strong:–for with her death

      That tidings came;–with this she fell distract,

      And, her attendants absent, swallow’d fire.

      CASSIUS

      And died so?

      BRUTUS

      Even so.

      CASSIUS

      O ye immortal gods!

      Re-enter LUCIUS, with wine and taper

      BRUTUS

      Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.

      In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.

      CASSIUS

      My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.

      Fill, Lucius, till the wine o’erswell the cup;

      I cannot drink too much of Brutus’ love.

      BRUTUS

      Come in, Titinius!

      Exit LUCIUS

      Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA

      Welcome, good Messala.

      Now sit we close about this taper here,

      And call in question our necessities.

      CASSIUS

      Portia, art thou gone?

      BRUTUS

      No more, I pray you.

      Messala, I have here received letters,

      That young Octavius and Mark Antony

      Come down upon us with a mighty power,

      Bending their expedition toward Philippi.

      MESSALA

      Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.

      BRUTUS

      With what addition?

      MESSALA

      That

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