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Which did incorporate and make us one,
you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
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;
Bru. O ye gods,
Enter LUCIUS and LIGARIUS. Lucius, who is 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.
Lig. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Lig. By all the gods that Romans bow before,
Bru. A piece of work, that will make sick men
whole. Lig. But are not some whole, that we must make
What it is, my Caius,
Lig. Set on your foot;
Bru. Follow me then.
SCENE II.-The same.
A Room in CÆSAR's Palace.
Thunder and Lightning. Enter CÆSAR, in his Night
gown. Cas. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to
night : Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out, Help, ho! They murder Cæsar! Who's within ?
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. Cal. What mean you, Cæsar? Think you to walk You shall not stir out of your house to-day.
Cæs. Cæsar shall forth : The things that threaten'd
Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see
Cal. Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,
There is one within,
Cæs. What can be avoided,
Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of prin
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.
Re-enter a Servant. What say the augurers ? Serv. They would not have you to stir forth to
Cæs. The gods do this in shame of cowardice;
Cal. Alas, my lord,
Cas. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well ;
Dec. Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Cæsar: I come to fetch you to the senate-house.
Cas. And you are come in very happy time,