Page:Julius Caesar (1919) Yale.djvu/87

Julius Cæsar, IV. iii  

Cas. Hath Cassius liv'd 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. O Brutus!

Bru. What's the matter?

Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?

Bru. 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.

Lucil. [Within.] You shall not come to them.

Poet. [Within.] Nothing but death shall stay me.

Enter a Poet [followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius].

Cas. 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.

Cas. Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rime!

Bru. Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!

Cas. Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion.  114 blood ill-temper'd: disordered condition 132 cynic: so called because Diogenes affected rudeness 