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Boy! Lucius!-- Fast asleep? It is no matter;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:
Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men;

Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

Enter PORTIA.

Por. Brutus, my Lord!

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 :
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd upou me with ungentle looks:
I urg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot:
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not;
But, with an angry wasture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you: So I did;
Fearing to strengthen that impatience,
Which seen d too much enkindled; and, withal,
Hoping it was but an 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 bath much prevail'd on your condition,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

Bruck am not well in health, and that is all. Pro. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, He would embrace the ineans to come by it.

Good Portia, go to bed.

Bru. Why, so I do: Por. Is Brutus sick? and is it physical To walk unbraced, and suck up the humours Of the dank morning? 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: Aud, upon my knees, a I charm you, by my once commended beaut uty, By all your vows of love, and that great vow Which did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, yourself, your halfetete Why you are heavy; and what men en to-night Have had resort to you: for here have have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness.

A

Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia... Por. I should not need, if you ou 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

I

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suburbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, w
Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

Bru. You are my true and honourable
As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart.

PA

wife; A oma

Por. If this were true, then should I know this

secret. 1

I grant, I am a woman; but, withals blog all

A woman that lord Brutus took to wife:
I gvant, I am a woman; but, withal,
A woman well-reputed; Cato's daughter.
Think you, 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 thigh: Can I bear that with patience,
And not my husband's secrets?

Bru. O ye Gods,

Render me worthy of this noble wife!

[Knocking within.

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.

Enter Lucius and LIGARIUS.

Lucius, who's 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.

Bru. O, what a time have you chose out, brave

Caius,

To wear a kerchief? 'Would you were not sick!

Lig. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand

Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
Bru. Such an exploit have

Had

I in hand, Ligarius,

d you a healthful ear to hear of it. Lig. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,

I here

I here discard my sickness. Soal of Rome!A Brave son, deriv'd from honourable loims!

Thon, like an exorcist, hast conjuv'dcup
My mortified spirit. Now bid me ran,

And I will strive with things impossible;

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Yea, get the better of ther. 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?

1

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-mrd, I follow you,
To do I know not what: but it sufficeth
That Brutus leads we on.

Bra. Follow me then.se

t

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The same. A Room in Caesar's Palace.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his

Night-gown.

Caes. Nor heaven, nor earth,

have been

peace to-Light:

Thrice hath Calularnie in her steep cried out,

at

Help, hot 'n murder Chesar. who's within ?

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Serv. My Lord?

Caes. Go bid the priests do present sacrif

And bring me their opinions of success..

Sero:

I wilł, my Lordk

VOL. XV.

3

Exit.

Enter CALPHURNIA.

Cal. What mean you, Caesar? Think you to

walk forth?

You shall not stir out of your house to-day.

Caes. Caesar shall forth: The things, that threat

en d me,

Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see The face of Caesar, they are vanished.

Cal. Caesar, 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, In ranks, and squadrons, and right form of war, Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; 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 Caesar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them.

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Caes. What can be avoided,
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these predictions
Are to the world in general, as to Caesar.

Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets

seen;

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of

Princes

Caes. 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

:

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