40

Conceptions only proper to myself,[71]

Which give some soil,[72] perhaps, to my behaviours;[73]

But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd—

Among which number, Cassius, be you one—

45Nor construe any further my neglect,

45

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,

Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cassius. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook[74] your passion; [75]

Cassius.

By means whereof[76] this breast of mine hath buried

50Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

50

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Brutus. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself[77]

Brutus.

But by reflection, by some[78] other things.[79][80]

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