... Dishonour shall be humour.
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
That carries anger as the flint bears fire,
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark
And straight is cold again.
Whereupon Cassius weeps because he thinks Brutus is laughing at him.
Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him.
Brutus: When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Cassius: Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
Brutus: And my heart too.
Then Cassius explains that he got his temper from his mother (as I did
mine).
Cassius: O Brutus!
Brutus: What's the matter? [Shakespeare should have added `now.']
Cassius: Have not you love enough to bear with me,
When that rash humour which my mother gave me
Makes me forgetful?
Brutus: Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
And all this on the brink of disaster and death.
But here comes a rare touch, and we might as well quote it in full.
Mind you, I am following Shakespeare, and not history, which is mostly
lies.
A great poet's instinct might be nearer the truth; after all. Of
course scholars know that Macbeth (or Macbethad) reigned for upwards
of twenty years in Scotland a wise and a generous king--so much so
that he was called "Macbathad the Liberal," and it was Duncan who
found his way to the throne by way of murder; but it didn't fit in
with Shakespeare's plans, and--anyway that's only a little matter
between the ghosts of Bill and Mac which was doubtless fixed up long
ago.
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