For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm, Cas. Yet I do fear him : For in the ingrafted love he bears to Cæsar, Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: Is to himself, take thought,* and die for Cæsar : Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die; Cas. The clock hath stricken three. Cas. But it is doubtful yet, Whe'r Cæsar will come forth to-day, or no: For I can give this humour the true bent; [Clock strikes. Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. Cas. The morning comes upon us: We'll leave you, Brutus :And, friends, disperse yourselves: but all remember What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; Let not our looks put on § our purposes: With untired spirits, and formal constancy: [Exeunt all but BRUTUS. By his house. § Show. Boy! Lucius!-Fast asleep? It is no matter; * Turn melancholy. † Omens. Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: Por. Brutus, my lord! Enter PORTIA. Bru. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now? It is not for your health, thus to commit Your weak condition to the raw-cold morning. Por. Nor for yours neither. You have ungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed: And yesternight, at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing, and sighing, with your arms across: I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not; But, with an angry wafture of your hand, Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. * Imaginative shapes. † Temper. + Moist. Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. Is it expected, I should know no secrets 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, A woman that lord Brutus took to wife: I grant, I am a woman; but, withal, A woman well-reputed; Cato's daughter. 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, Render me worthy of this noble wife! [Knocking within. Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in a while; The secrets of my heart. All my engagements I will construe to thee, Enter LUCIUS and LIGARIUS. Lucius, who is that, knocks? [Exit PORTIA. Luc. Here is a sick man, that would speak with you. Boy, stand aside.-Caius Ligarius! how? Lig. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. 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 * Meaning. 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. 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-fired, I follow you, Bru. Follow me then. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. A Room in CESAR'S Palace. Enter a SERVANT. Serv. My lord? Cas. 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 threatened 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,* And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead: 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, Cas. What can be avoided, Whose end is purposed 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 heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Cas. Cowards die many times before their deaths; Never paid regard to omens. + Clashed. The valiant never taste of death but once. It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Will come, when it will come. Re-enter a SERVANT. What say the augurers? Serv. They will not have you to stir forth to-day. Cal. Alas, my lord, Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. Do not go forth to-day: Call it my fear, That keeps you in the house, and not your own. Cas. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well; Enter DECIUS. Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. Dec. Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Cesar: I come to fetch you to the senate-house. Cas. And you are come in very happy time To bear my greeting to the senators, And tell them, that I will not come to-day: Cas. Shall Cæsar send a lie ? Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth? Decius, go tell them, Cæsar will not come. Dec. Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laugh'd at, when I tell them so. Cas. The cause is in my will, I will not come ; That is enough to satisfy the senate. But, for your private satisfaction, Because I love you, I will let you know. |