“Till then, think of the world.
Exit Brutus. Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see Thy honorable mettle may be wrought From that it is disposed; therefore it is meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes; For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus. If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, He should not humor me. I will this night,
In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens,”