Brutus, Cassius

Lucilius, Titinius, Messala

BRUTUS. They stand, and would have parley. 

CASSIUS. Stand fast, Titinius; we must out and talk. 

OCTAVIUS. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle? 

ANTONY. No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. Make forth; the generals would have some words. 

OCTAVIUS. Stir not until the signal. 

BRUTUS. Words before blows: is it so, countrymen? 

OCTAVIUS. Not that we love words better, as you do. 

BRUTUS. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius. 

ANTONY. In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words; Witness the hole you made in Caesar’s heart, Crying, “Long live! Hail, Caesar!” 

CASSIUS. Antony, The posture of your blows are yet unknown; But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless. 

ANTONY. Not stingless too. 

BRUTUS. O yes, and soundless too, For you have stol’n their buzzing, Antony, And very wisely threat before you sting. 

ANTONY. Villains, you did not so when your vile daggers Hack’d one another in the sides of Caesar: You show’d your teeth like apes, and fawn’d like hounds, And bow’d like bondmen, kissing Caesar’s feet; Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers! 

CASSIUS. Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself. This tongue had not offended so today, If Cassius might have rul’d. 

OCTAVIUS. Come, come, the cause. If arguing makes us sweat, The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look, I draw a sword against conspirators. When think you that the sword goes up again? Never, till Caesar’s three and thirty wounds Be well aveng’d; or till another Caesar Have added 

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