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Brutus and Cassius meet on the field.
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| Most noble brother, you have done me wrong. | |
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| Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies? And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother? | |
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Brutus and Cassius move into a tent.
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| Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs; And when you do them-- | |
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| Cassius, be content; Speak your griefs softly, I do know you well. Before the eyes of both our armies here, Which should perceive nothing but love from us, Let us not wrangle; bid them move away... | |
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Brutus and Cassius continue to argue.
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| Brutus, bay not me, I'll not endure it: you forget yourself, To hedge me in; I am a soldier, ay, Older in practice, abler than yourself To make conditions. | |
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| Go to; you are not, Cassius. | |
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