Imatges de pÓgina

Tre. There is no fear in bim; let him not die; For he will live and laugh at this hereafter.

[Clock strikes Three.
Bru, Peace! count the clock.
Tre. Tis time to part.
Cas. The clock bas stricken three.

Casca. But it is doubtful yet,
If Cæsar will come forth to-day, or no;
For he is superstitious grown of late.
It may be, these apparent prodigies,
The unaccustom'd terrors of this night,
And the persuasion of his augurers,
May hold him from the capitol to-day.

Dec. Never fear that; if he be so resolvid,
I can o'ersway him : for he loves to hear,
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
He says, he does; being then most flattered.
Leave me to work;
For I can give his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the capitol.

Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
Bru. By the eighth hour; is that the uttermost?
Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.

Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæsar hard, Whọ rated him for speaking well of Pompey; I wonder none of you have thought of him.

Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along to him: He loves me well; and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. Cas. The morning comes upon 's; we will leave

you, Brutus; And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember What

you have said, and show yourselves true Ro


Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on our purposes;

But bear it, as our Roman actors do,
With untir'd spirits, and formal constancy;
And so good morrow to you every one.

[Exeunt all but BRUTUS.

Enter Portia. Por. Brutus, my lord! Bru. Portia, what mean you ?-wherefore rise you

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,

Stolen from my bed: and yesternight at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Sighing and musing, with your arms across ;
And, when I ask'd you, what the matter was,
You star'd upon me with ungentle looks.
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not;
But, with an angry wafture of your

Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,
Hoping it was but the 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 prevailid 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 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. 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 charm you, by my once commended beauty,
By all your vows of love, and that great vow,
Which did incorporate and made 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 That appertain to you ? am I yourself, But, as it were, in sort or limitation ? To keep with you at meals, consort 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 se-

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.


I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd, and so husbanded ? Tell me your counsels; I will not disclose them. I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound, Here, in the arm :-Can I bear that with patience, And not my husband's secrets ?

Bru. O ye gods,

Render me worthy of this noble wife ! Knock.
Hark! hark! one knocks—Portia, go in a while;
And, by and by, thy bosom shall partake
The secrets of my heart.



CÆSAR's Palace.

Thunder and Lightning.

Enter JULIUS CÆSAR. Cæs. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to

night; Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cry'd out, Help, ho ! they murder Cæsar !"--Who's within ?

Enter a SERVANT.
Sero. My lord.

Cæs. Go, bid the priests do present sacrifice;
And bring me their opinions of success.
Serv. I will, my lord.



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 hut 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 ;

That graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead.
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?
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 heav'ns 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, It seems to me most strange that men should fear: Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come, when it will come.

Enter a SERVANT. What say the Augurs? 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.

Cæs. The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
Cæsar should be a beast without a heart,
If he should stay at home, to-day, for fear.
No, Cæsar shall not.

Cal. Alas, my lord,
Your wisdom is consum'd in confidence :
Do not go forth, to-day; call it my fear,
That keeps you in the house, and not your own.
We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house,
And he will say, you are not well to-day:
Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.

Cæs. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well;
And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.

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