« AnteriorContinuar »
Boy! Lucius ! fast alleep? it is no matter,
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of Alumber :
Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies,
Which busie care draws in the brains of men;
Therefore thou Neep'it fo found.
S C E Ν Ε III.
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've ungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed : and yesternight at fupper You suddenly arose and walk'd about, Muling, and sighing, with your arms a-cross: And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You stard upon 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 wafture of your hand Gave sign for me to leave you : so I did, Fearing to strengthen that impatience, Which seem'd too much inkindled ; 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 Neep; And could it work so much upon your shape, As ic hath much prevailid on your condition, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my Lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all.
Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health, He would embrace the means to come by it.
Bru. Why, so I do: good Portia, go to bed.
Por. Is Brutus sick, and is it physical
To walk unbraced, and fuck up the humours
Of the dank morning? what! is Brutus sick,
And will he steal out of his wholsome 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: and upon my knees,
I charge you, by my once-commended beauty,
By all your vows of love, and that great vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, your self, your half,
Why you are heavy: and what men to-night
Have had resort to you: for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.
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 your self
But as it were in fort, or limitation ?
To keep with you at meals, confort your bed,
And talk to you?. 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 fad heart.
Por. If this were true, then should I know this fecret.
I grant I am a woman; but withal,
A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife :
I grant I am a woman; but witha!,
A woman well reputed ; Cato's daughter.
Think 6 comfort old edit. Theob.cmend,
Think you, I am no ftronger than my sex,
Being fo father'd, and so husbanded?
Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them:
I have made strong proof of my constancy,
Giving my self a voluntary wound
Here, in the thigh : can I bear that with patience,
And not my husband's secrets ?
Bru. Oye Gods !
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 fad brows.
Leave me with hafte.
[Exit Portia. Enter Lucius and Ligarius. Lucius, who's there that knocks?
Luc. Here is a fick 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 I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you an healthful ear to hear of it.
Lig. By all the Gods the Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome,
Brave son deriv'd from honourable loins,
Thou like an exorcist haft conjur'd up
My mortified spirit
. Now bid me run,
And I will strive with things in possible ;
Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?
Bru. A piece of work, chat 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 fall 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,
To do I know not what: but it fufficeth
That Brutus leads me on.
Bru. Follow me then.
Thunder and Lightning. Enter Julius Cæsar.
JOR heav'n, nor earth, have been at peace to-
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her Neep cry'd out,
Help, ho; they murder Cæfar. Who's within ?
Enter & Servant.
Ser. My Lord.
Caf. Gó bid the Priests do present facrifice,
And bring me their opinions of success.
Ser. I will, my Lord.
Calp. What mean you, Cæfar? think you to walk forth?
You shall not ttir out of your house to-day.
Caf. Cejar lall forth; the things that threatned me,
Ne'er lookt but on my back : when they shall see
The face of Cæsar, they are vanished.
Calp. Cæfar,' 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 fights 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 bactel hurtled in the air,
Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,
And ghosts did fhriek and squeal about the streets.
O Cæfar! these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.
Ces. What can be avoided,
Whole end is purpos’u by the mighty Gods ?
Yet Cæfar shall go forth : for thefe predictions
Are to the world in general, as to Cæfar.
Calp. When beggars die, there are no comets seen,
The heav'ns themselves blaze forth the death of Princes.
Cæf. 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.
Enter a Servant.
What say the Augurs?
Ser. They would not have you to stir forth to day.
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,
They could not find a heart within the beast.
Cæf. The Gods do this in shame of cowardise :
Cæfar should be a beast without a heart,
If he should stay at home to-day for fear. 2
Calp. Alas, my Lord,
Your wisdom is confum'd in confidence ;
(a) to-day for fear :
No, Cæfar shall not; Danger knows full well,
That Cæfar is more dangerous than he.
We ? 'were two lions litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible;
And Cæsar shall go forth.
Calp. Alas, &C.
7 heard ... old edit. Theob, emend,