CAS. Brutus, bay not me.
I'll not endure it. You forget yourself
To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.
BRU. Go to, you are 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 farther.
BRU. Away, slight man!
CAS. I'st possible?
BRU. Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frightened when a madman stares?
CAS. Must I endure all this?
BRU. All this! ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break.
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 humour? 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.