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 fhape,
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. Why, fo I do. Good Porcia, go to bed.
Por. Is Brutus fick? and is it phyfical
To walk unbraced, and fuck up the humours
Of the dank morning? what, is Brutus fick?
And will he fteal out of his wholesome bed,
To dare the vile contagion of the night?
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air,
To add unto his ficknefs? No, my Brutus,
You have some fick offence within your mind,
Which, by the Right and Virtue of my place,
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, yourfelf, your half,
Why you are heavy, and what men to-night
Have had refort to you; for here have been
Some fix or feven, who did hide their faces
Even from darknefs.

Bru. Kneel not, gentle Porcia.

Por. I fhould not need, if you were gentle Brutus. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,

Is it excepted, I fhould know no fecrets

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,
D 2

And

And talk to you sometimes? dwell I but in the fub

urbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
Porcia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

Bru. You are my true and honourable wife;
As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops

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,

6

A woman well reputed Cato's daughter.

Think you, I am no ftronger than my sex,
Being fo father'd, and fo husbanded?

Tell me your counfels, I will not disclose them:
I have made strong proof of my constancy,
Giving myself a voluntary wound

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

Bru. O ye Gods!

Render me worthy of this noble wife.

[Knock.

Hark, hark, one knocks: Percia, go in a while;
And, by and by, thy bofom fhall partake
The fecrets of my heart.

• A woman well reputed; Ca to's daughter.] This falfe pointing fhould be corrected thus, A woman well reputed Cato's daughter. i. e. worthy of my birth, and the relation I bear to Cato. This indeed was a good reafon why fhe fhould be intrufted with the fecret. But the falfe pointing, which gives a fenfe only implying that he was a woman of a good character, and that he was

Cato's daughter, gives no good reafon : For the might be Cato's daughter, and yet not inherit his firmnefs; and the might be a woman well reputed, and yet not the beft at a secret. But if the was well reputed Cato's daughter, that is, worthy of her birth, the could neither want her father's love to her country, nor his refolution to engage in its deliver

ance.

WARE.

All

All my engagements I will conftrue to thee,
All the charactery of my fad brows.-

Leave me with hafte.

[Exit Porcia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's there that knocks?

Luc. Here is a fick man, that would fpeak with

you.

Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus fpake of. Boy, ftand afide. Caius Ligarius! how?

Cai. Vouchsafe good-morrow from a feeble tongue.
Bru. O, what a time have you chofe out, brave
Caius,

To wear a kerchief? 'would you were not fick!
Cai. I am not fick, if Brutus have in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you an healthful ear to hear it.

Cai. By all the Gods the Romans bow before,
I here difcard my fickness. Soul of Rome!
Brave fon, deriv'd from honourable loins!
Thou, like an Exorcift, haft conjur'd up
My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,
And I will strive with things impoffible;
Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?

Bru. A piece of work, that will make fick men
whole.

Cai. But are not fome whole, that we muft make

fick?

Bru. That we muft alfo. What it is, my Caius, I fhall unfold to thee, as we are going,

To whom it must be done.

Cai. 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.

Eru. Follow me then.

[Exeunt.

Caf.

SCENE IV.

Changes to Cæfar's Palace.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter Julius Cæfar.

OR heav'n, nor earth, have been at peace to-night;

NOR

Thrice hath Calphurnia in her fleep cry'd out,
Help, ho! they murder Cafar." Who's within?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. My Lord ?——————

Caf. Go bid the priests do prefent facrifice, And bring me their opinions of fuccefs.

Serv. I will, my Lord.

Enter Calphurnia.

[Exit,

Cal. What mean you, Cafar? think you to walk forth?

You fhall not ftir out of your houfe to-day.

Caf. Cafar fhall forth. The things, that threatned

me,

Ne'er lookt but on my back, when they fhall fee
The face of Cafar, they are vanished.

Cal. Cæfar, I never flood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
Befides the things that we have heard and feen,
Recounts moft horrid fights feen by the Watch.
A lionefs hath whelped in the streets,

And Graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead;

Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds,

In ranks and fquadrons and right form of war,
Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol :
The noife of battle hurtled in the air;
Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan;
And Ghosts did fhriek, and fqueal about the streets.
O Cafar! thefe things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.

Caf. What can be avoided,

Whofe end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Cæfar fhall go forth: for these predictions
Are to the world in general, as to Cæfar.

Cal. 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 frange that men fhould fear,
Seeing that death, a neceffary end,
Will come, when it will come.

Enter Servant.

What say the Augurs?

Serv. 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.

[Exit Servant.

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,

1-death, a neceffary end, &c.] This is a fentence derived from the Stoical doctrine of predeftination, and is therefore improper

in the mouth of Cafar.

8-in fame of cowardife:] The ancients did not place courage but wisdom in the heart. D 4

No,