Which busy care draws in the brains of men ; Por. Enter Portia. Brutus, my lord! Bru. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now? It is not for your health, thus to commit Stole from my bed: And yesternight, at supper, Musing, and sighing, with your arms across: I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head, But, with an angry wafture of your hand, 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. 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 dankt morning? What, is Brutus sick; And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Bru tus. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no secrets To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, 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 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, * Moisture. + The residence of harlots. Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them: Here, in the thigh: Can I bear that with patience, Bru. Render me worthy of this noble wife! O ye gods, [Knocking within. Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in a while; The secrets of my heart. All my engagements I will construe to thee, [Exit Portia. Enter Lucius and Ligarius. Lucius, who is that, knocks? 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 goodmorrow from a feeble tongue. To wear a kerchief? 'Would you were not sick! 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 mortified spirit. Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible; Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? *All that is charactered on. 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. I shall unfold to thee, as we To whom it must be done. What it is, my Caius, are going Set on your foot; Lig. Bru. Follow me then. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A room in Cæsar's palace. Thunder and lightning. Enter Cæsar, in his night gown. Cas. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to-night: Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out, Help, ho! they murder Casar! Who's within? Sero. My lord? Enter a Servant. Cæs. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, And bring me their opinions of success. Serv. I will, my lord. Enter Calphurnia. [Exit. 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 threat en'd me, Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see Cal. Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies*, The noise of battle hurtled † in the air, their dead; Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan; And ghosts did shriek, and squeal‡ about the streets. O Cæsar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. Cas. What can be avoided, Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods? 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. Cæs. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, Will come, when it will come. Re-enter a Servant. What say the augurers? Serv. They would not have you to stir forth to-day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beast. * Never paid a regard to prodigies or omens. † Encountered. Cry with pain. |