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.
Cas. Is it come to this?
Bru. You say you are a better soldier,
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus: