No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things.

’Tis just: And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye, That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus And groaning underneath this age’s yoke, Have wish’d that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?