Page 2257 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Never till Caesar’s three-and-thirty wounds
Be well avenged, or till another Caesar
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. [55]

BRUTUS
Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors’ hands
Unless thou bring’st them with thee.

OCTAVIUS
So I hope.
I was not born to die on Brutus’ sword.

BRUTUS
O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable. [60]

CASSIUS
A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour,

Joined with a masquer and a reveller!

ANTONY
Old Cassius still!

OCTAVIUS
Come, Antony. Away!
Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.
If you dare fight today, come to the field; [65]

If not, when you have stomachs.
Exeunt Octavius, Antony, and their army.

CASSIUS
Why now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.

BRUTUS
Ho, Lucilius! Hark, a word with you.