1 My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
2 Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
3 Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
4 Noble, noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose.
5 Noble, noble Cassius, Good night, and good repose.
6 The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious.
7 For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
8 Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous; He is a noble Roman and well given.
9 I do not doubt But that my noble master will appear Such as he is, full of regard and honour.
10 So is he now in execution Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form.
11 No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome; He bears too great a mind.
12 Yes, every man of them; and no man here But honours you; and everyone doth wish You had but that opinion of yourself Which every noble Roman bears of you.
13 Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: Brutus had rather be a villager Than to repute himself a son of Rome Under these hard conditions as this time Is like to lay upon us.
14 I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Caesar's death's hour; nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world.
15 Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving; Say I love Brutus and I honour him; Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him, and lov'd him.
16 This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart; And in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
17 If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony May safely come to him, and be resolv'd How Caesar hath deserv'd to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus Thorough the hazards of this untrod state, With all true faith.
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