FRANCESCO
Christ’s body, Cæsar! dost thou mock?
CÆSAR
Not I.
Hast thou fallen out with me, then, that thy tongue
Disclaims its lingering utterance?
ALEXANDER
Now, by nought,
As nought abides to swear by, folly seen
So plain and heard so loud might well nigh make
Wise men believe in even the devil and God.
What ails you? Whence comes lightning in your eyes,
With hissing hints of thunder on your lips?
Fools! and the fools I thought to make for men
Gods. Is it love or hate divides you—turns
Tooth, fang, or claw, when time provides them prey,
To nip, rip, rend each other?
CÆSAR
Hate or love,
Francesco?
FRANCESCO
Why, I hate thee not—thou knowest
I hate thee not, my Cæsar.