BRUTUS.
Marked you his lip and eyes?
SICINIUS.
Nay, but his taunts.
BRUTUS.
Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.
SICINIUS.
Bemock the modest moon.
BRUTUS.
The present wars devour him! He is grown
Too proud to be so valiant.
SICINIUS.
Such a nature,
Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder
His insolence can brook to be commanded
Under Cominius.
BRUTUS.
Fame, at the which he aims,
In whom already he’s well graced, cannot
Better be held nor more attained than by
A place below the first; for what miscarries
Shall be the General’s fault, though he perform
To th’ utmost of a man, and giddy censure
Will then cry out of Martius “O, if he
Had borne the business!”
SICINIUS.
Besides, if things go well,
Opinion that so sticks on Martius shall
Of his demerits rob Cominius.
BRUTUS.
Come.
Half all Cominius’ honours are to Martius,
Though Martius earned them not, and all his faults
To Martius shall be honours, though indeed
In aught he merit not.
SICINIUS.
Let’s hence and hear
How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
More than in singularity, he goes
Upon this present action.