We fhall be call'd Purgers, not murtherers. Caf. Yet I do fear him; For in th' ingrafted love he bears to Cefar Bru. Alas, good Caffius, do not think of him: Is to himself, take thought, and die for Cæfar: Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die; Bru. Peace, count the clock. Caf. But it is doubtful yet, If Cefar will come forth to day, or no: [Clock ftrikes. Dec. Never fear that; if he be fo refolv'd; For I can give his humour the true bent; Caf. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. Whe Who rated him for fpeaking well of Pompey; Caf. The morning comes upon's; we'll leave you, And, friends! difperfe yourselves; but all remember Manet Brutus. Boy! Lucius! faft afleep? it is no matter, Enter Porcia. Por. Brutus, my lord! [Exeunt Bru. Porcia, what mean you? wherefore rife 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've ungently, Bratus, Stole from my bed: and, yefternight at fupper, You fuddenly arofe and walk'd about, I urg'd you further; then you fcratch'd your head But with an angry wafture of your hand, Which feem'd too much inkindled; and, withal, B 3 Hoping Hoping it was but an effect of humour; Bru. Why, fo I do: good Porcia, go to bed.. Bru. Kneel not, gentle Porcia. Per. I fhould not need, if you were gentle Brutur. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no fecrets That appertain to you? am I yourself, But, as it were, in fort or limitation ? To keep with you at meals, confort your bed, (8) And And talk to you sometimes? dwell I but in the fuburbs 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 fe cret. I grant, I am a woman; but withal, A woman that lord Brutus took to wife: Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience, Bru. O ye Gods! Render me worthy of this noble wife. Hark, hark, one knocks: Parcia, go in a while; And, by and by, thy bofom fhall partake The fecrets of my heart. All my engagements I will conftrue to thee, All the charactery of my fad brows. Leave me with hafte. Enter Lucius and Ligarius. Lucius, who's there that knocks? [Knock. [Exit Porcia, Luc. Here is a fick man, that would fpeak with you. Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus fpake of. Boy, ftand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? Cai. Vouchfafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. Bru. O, what a time have you chofe out, brave Caius, This is but an odd Phrafe, and gives as odd an Idea. The Word, I have fubftituted, feems much more proper; and is one of our Poet's own Ufage upon the like Occafions; which makes me fufpect, he employ'd it here. To wear a kerchief? 'would you were not fick ! Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Cai. By all the Gods the Romans bow before, And I will ftrive 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 must make fick? Bru. That we must also. What it is, my Caius, Cai. Set on your foot, And with a heart new-fir'd I follow you, Bru. Follow me then. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Cæfar's Palace. Thunder and Lightning. Enter Julius Cæfar. Caf. NOR OR heav'n, nor earth, have been at peace to night; Thrice hath Calphurnia in her fleep cry'd out, Help, ho! they murder Cafar." Who's within ? Ser. My lord? Caf. Go bid the priests do prefent facrifice, And bring me their opinions of fuccefs. Ser. I will, my lord. Enter Calphurnia. [Exit. Cal. What mean you, Cafar? think you to walk forth? |