For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O ye gods, how Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms Quite vanquished 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. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I and you and all of us fell down Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel The impression of pity; these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself marred, as you see, with traitors! Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny; They that have done this deed are honorable; What private griefs they have, alas, I know not That made them do it; they are wise and honorable And will no doubt with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts; I am no orator, as Brutus is: But as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, That love my friends, and that they know full well, That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech To stir men's blood, I only speak right on; I tell you that, which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me; but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar, that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny!"_ This oration fired the Roman people to mutiny, and Brutus and Cassius with their followers fled from the city and prepared for war with Antony and Octavius, who had suddenly returned to Rome. The passionate quarrel between Brutus and Cassius in their military camp at Sardis was a natural outcome of conspirators. Cassius accused Brutus of having wronged him, and Brutus twitted his brother assassin thus: _"Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm, To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers!"_ Cassius fires back this reply: _"I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or by the gods this speech were else your last!"_ The night before the battle of Philippi the spirit of Caesar appeared in the tent of Brutus, who startles from a slumbering trance and exclaims: