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, you scratch'd Musing, and sighing, with your arms across: Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, 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, 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, withal, Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them: 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; 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? Enter Lucius and 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. To wear a kerchief? 'Would you were not sick! D 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 sou, 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? 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, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done. Lig. Set on your foot; And, with a heart new-fir'd, I follow you, Bru. Follow me then. [Exeunt. SCENE II. THE SAME. A ROOM IN CÆSAR'S PALACE. Thunder and lightning. Enter Cæsar, in his Night gown. Cæs. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to-night: Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out, Serv. My lord? Enter a Sercant. Cæs. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, Enter Calphurnia. [Exit. 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 threat en'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: Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds, 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. |