But with an angry wafture of your hand
Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal
250 Hoping it was but an effect of humour,

Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,
And, could it work so much upon your shape
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
255 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 wise, and, were he not in health,
He would embrace the means to come by it.

260

Bru. Why, so I do : good Portia, go to bed.
Por. Is Brutus sick, and is it physical
To walk unbraced and suck up the humours
Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,
265 To dare the vile contagion of the night,
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;
You have some sick offence within your mind,
Which by the right and virtue of my place.
270 I ought to know of: and, upon my knees,

I charm you, by my once commended beauty,
By all your vows of love and that great vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
275 Why you are heavy, and what men to-night
Have had resort to you; for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.

Bru.

Kneel not, gentle Portia.
Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.

280 Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,

Is it excepted I should know no secrets
That appertain to you? Am I yourself
But, as it were, in sort or limitation,

To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,

285 And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,

Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

Bru. You are my true and honourable wife,

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

290 That visit my sad heart.

Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret.

I grant I am a woman, but withal

A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife;
I grant I am a woman, but withal

295 A woman well reputed, Cato's daughter.
Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
Being so father'd and so husbanded?

Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em :
I have made strong proof of my constancy,

300 Giving myself a voluntary wound.

Here in the thigh: can I bear that with patience
And not my husband's secrets?

Bru.

O ye gods,

[Knocking within.

Render me worthy of this noble wife!

Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in a while;

305 And by and by thy bosom shall partake

The secrets of my heart:

All my engagements I will construe to thee,

All the charactery of my sad brows.

Leave me with haste. [Exit Portia.] Lucius, who's that knocks?

310

Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS.

Luc. Here is a sick man that would speak with you.
Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.

Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?

Lig. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. Bru. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, 315 To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! Lig. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand

320

Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you
a healthful ear to hear of it.
Lig. By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!
Brave son, deriv'd from honourable loins!
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjur❜d up
My mortifiéd spirit. Now bid me run,
325 And I will strive with things impossible,

Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?

Bru. A piece of work that will make sick men whole. Lig. But are not some whole that we must make sick? Bru. That must we also. What it is, my Caius, 330 I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done.

Set on your foot,

Lig.
And with a heart new-fir'd I follow you,
To do I know not what: but it sufficeth
That Brutus leads me on.

Bru.

Follow me then.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

CESAR's house

Thunder and lightning. Enter CÆSAR, in his nightgown.

Caes. Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night:

Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,

"Help, ho! they murder Cæsar!"-Who's within?

Serv. My lord?

Enter a Servant.

Caes. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,

And bring me their opinions of success.

Serv. I will, my lord.

Enter CALPURNIA.

[Exit.

10

Cal. What mean you, Cæsar? think you to walk forth? You shall not stir out of your house to-day.

Cæs. Cæsar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see

The face of Cæsar, they are vanished.

Cal. Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
15 Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
A lioness hath whelped in the streets;

And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead;
Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,
20 In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;

The noise of battle hurtled in the air,

Horses did neigh and dying men did groan,

And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. 25 O Cæsar! these things are beyond all use,

30

And I do fear them.

Cæs.

What can be avoided

Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods?
Yet Cæsar shall go forth; for these predictions

Are to the world in general as to Cæsar.

Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

Caes. Cowards die many times before their death; The valiant never taste of death but once.