I shall not find myself so apt to die:
No place will please me so, no mean of death,
As here by Cæsar, and by you cut off,[64]
The choice and master spirits of this age.
165Brutus. O Antony, beg not your death of us.
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
As, by our hands and this our present act,
You see we do; yet see you but our hands
And this the bleeding business they have done: