Manet Brutus. Boy! Lucius! faft afleep? it is no matter, Which bufie care draws in the brains of men; Por. Brutus, my Lord! Bru. Portia, what mean you? wherefore rife you now? It is not for your health thus to commit Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. Por. Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed: and yefternight at fupper You fuddenly arofe and walk'd about, Mufing, and fighing, with your arms a-cross: And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You ftar'd upon me with ungentle looks. I urg'd you further, then you fcratch'd your head, foot: And too impatiently ftamp'd with your Yet I infifted, yet you answer'd not, But with an angry wafture of your hand Gave fign for me to leave you: fo I did, Fearing to strengthen that impatience, Which feem'd too much inkindled; and withal, Hoping it was but an effect of humour, Which fometime hath his hour with every man. It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor fleep; And could it work fo much upon your shape, As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my Lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. Por. Brutus is wife, and were he not in health, He would embrace the means to come by it. Bru. Bru. Why, fo I do: good Portia, go to bed. Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I fhould not need, if you were gentle Brutus. That appertain to you? am I your felf But as it were in fort, or limitation? To keep with you at meals, confort your bed, Bru. You are my true and honourable wife; That vifit my fad heart. Por. If this were true, then fhould I know this fecret. I grant I am a woman; but withal, A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: I grant I am a woman; but withal, A woman well reputed; Cato's daughter. Think you, I am no ftronger than my fex, Tell me your counfels, I will not difclofe them: Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience, Bru. O ye Gods! Render me worthy of this noble wife. Hark, hark, one knocks: Portia, go in a while, And by and by thy bofom fhall partake The fecrets of my heart. All my engagements I will conftrue to thee, All the charactery of my fad brows. Leave me with hafte. Enter Lucius and Ligarius. Lucius, who's there that knocks? [Knock Exit Portia. Luc. Here is a fick man that would speak with you. Lig. Vouchsafe good-morrow from a feeble tongue. To wear a kerchief? would you were not fick! Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Had you an healthful ear to hear of it. Lig. By all the Gods the Romans bow before, Bru. A piece of work, that will make fick men whole. P I fhall I fhall unfold to thee, as we are going, Lig. Set on your foot, And with a heart new-fir'd I follow you, To do I know not what: but it fufficeth That Brutus leads me on. Bru. Follow me then. [Exeunt. Thunder and Lightning Enter Julius Cæfar. Caf. NOR heav'n, nor earth, have been at peace to night; Thrice hath Calpburnia in her fleep cry'd out, Ser. My Lord. Enter a Servant. Caf. Go bid the Priefts do prefent facrifice, And bring me their opinions of fuccefs. Ser. I will, my Lord. Enter Calphurnia. [Exit. Calp. What mean you, Cæfar? think you to walk forth? You shall not ftir out of your house to-day. Caf. Cæfar thall forth; the things that threatned me, Calp. Cæfar, I never ftood on ceremonies, And graves have yawn'd and yielded up their dead; Fierce Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds, Caf. What can be avoided, Whofe end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods? Calp. When beggars die, there are no comets feen, The heav'ns themfelves blaze forth the death of Princes. Caf. Cowards die many times before their deaths, The valiant never tafte of death but once: Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me moft ftrange that men fhould fear: Will come, when it will come. Enter a Servant. What fay the Augurs? Ser. They would not have you to ftir forth to day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beaft. Caf. The Gods do this in fhame of cowardife: Cafar fhould be a beaft without a heart, If he should stay at home to-day for fear. 2 Your wisdom is confum'd in confidence: |