Fearing to strengthen that impatience, Which seem'd too much enkindled; and, withal, Which sometime hath his hour with every man. Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. 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, 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, I ought to know of: And, upon my knees, I charge 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, 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. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no secrets But, as it were, in sort, or limitation; "To keep with you at meals, 16 comfort your bed, 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 That visit my sad heart. Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret. I grant, I am a woman; but, wtihal, A woman that lord Brutus took to wife: I grant, I am a woman; but, withal, Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them: Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: Can I bear that with patience, Bru. O ye gods, [Knocking within, Render me worthy of this noble wife! Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in a while; The secrets of my heart. All my engagements I will construe to thee, All the charactery of my sad brows: Leave me with haste. Enter LUCIUS and LIGARIUS. [Exit Portia. Lucius, who's 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 good morrow from a feeble tongue. Bru. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, To wear a kerchief? 'Would you were not sick! Lig. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand Any exploit worthy the name of honour. Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Lig. By all the gods that Romans bow before, 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. 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 Casar's Palace. Thunder and lightning. Enter CESAR, in his Night gown. Cas. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to-night: Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out, Serv. My lord? Enter a Servant. Cæs. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, And bring me their opinions of success. [Exit. Sero. I will, my lord. Enter CALPHURNIA. Cal. What mean you, Cæsar? Think you to walk forth? You shall not stir out of your house to-day. Cas. 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, 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: In ranks, and squadrons, and right form of war, 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. O Cæsar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. Cæs. What can be avoided, Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods? Are to the world in general, as to Cæsar. |