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And call it cunning: do, an if you will:

If heaven be pleased that you should use me ill,
Why, then you must.-Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,

So much as frown on you?


I have sworn to do it?

And with hot irons must I burn them out.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age would do it;
The iron of itself, though heat red hot,

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench its fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron?
An if an angel should have come to me,
And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not believed no tongue but Hubert's.
Hub. Come forth.

[stamps. Re-enter Attendants, with cord, irons, &c. Do as I bid


Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out, Even with the fierce looks of the bloody men.

Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. Arth. Alas! what need you be so boisterous-rough :

I will not struggle, I will stand stone still.

For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb ;

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons angerly;

Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.

Hub. Go stand within; let me alone with him;
1 Atten. I am best pleased to be from such a deed.
[Exeunt Attendants.
Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend :

He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart:

Let him come back, that his compassion may

Give life to yours.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.

Arth. Is there no remedy?

Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.

Arth. O heaven! that there were but a moat in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,

Any annoyance in that precious sense!

Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue.
Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes;
Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert!
Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
So I may keep mine eyes; 0, spare mine eyes;
Though to no use, but still to look on you!
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,

And would not harm me.



I can heat it, boy.

Arth. No, in good sooth, the fire is dead with grief— Being create for comfort-to be used

In undeserved extremes: See else yourself:

There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heaven hath blown its spirit out,
And strewed repentant ashes on his head.

Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert;
Nay, it perchance, will sparkle in your eyes,
And, like a dog, that is compelled to fight,
Snatch at his master that does tarre him on.*
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office; only you do lack

That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends,—
Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.

* Set him on.

Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes.
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes ;*
Yet I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while
You were disguised.


Peace: no more: Adieu!-
Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
I'll fill these dogged spies will false reports.
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.

Arth. O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.

Hub. Silence: no more. Go closely in with me: Much danger do I undergo for thee.





Cassius. That you have wronged me, doth appear in this:

You have condemned 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 of.

Brutus, You wronged yourself to write in such a case.
Cas. At such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offense should bear its comment.
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm;
To sell and mart your offices for gold,
To undeservers.

Cas. I an itching palm ?

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.

* Owns.

Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide its head.

Cas. Chastisement!

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake! What villain touched 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 honors, For so much trash as may be grasped thus ?I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.

Cas. Brutus, bay not me:

I'll not endure it. You forget yourself,
To hedge me in: I am a soldier, 1,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Bru. Go to! you're not Cassius.
Cas. I am.

Bru. I say you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.

Bru. Away, slight man!

Cas. Is't possible!

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?

Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! must I endure all this! Bru. All this? ay, more. Fret till your proud heart


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 humor? 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.

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say you are a better soldier; Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well.

For my own part

I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

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

I said an elder soldier, not a better.

Did I say better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.

Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.

Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him.

Cas. I durst not!

Bru. No.

Cas. What? durst not tempt him?

Bru. For your life you durst not.

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love.

I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Bru. You have done that you should be
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am armed 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 :-
I had rather coin my heart,

And drop my blood for drachms, than to wring

From the 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 answered 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 in pieces.

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