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My foul is fo perplex'd with fears for you,
That all the joys of nature, or of fortune,
Could find no entrance here at fuch a time.
BRUTUS.

Retire, retire; talking fo tenderly,

You, like officious and condoling friends,

But more afflict that mind you would compose:
I hope you think me neither false nor foolish.
If it were fit for you to know my cares,
'Twere ill in me to let you ask me twice:
Let that fuffice, and leave me; 'tis a word
I never us'd to thee before.

PORTIA.

Alas!

You would not use it now, if still you lov'd.
Can you have thoughts unfit to own to me?
You are unjust, and I undone : farewel.

BRUTUS.

What means my PORTIA ?

PORTIA.

BRUTUS unjust!

Oh! 'tis a wonder, which your very foes

Would not believe, tho' told it by your friends:
And to me too, who had least cause to fear it!
So little I deferv'd to find him fo.

Am I but only partner of your pleasures,
Fit for your trifling hours, and to be kept
At hateful distance from your nobler thoughts?
What is it I have innocently done,

To lose that truft, which always follows kindness,
And therefore yours is chang'd; I fee it plainly:
Thunder is fall'n on my poor guiltless head, [Weeps,
And all but I, perhaps, have heard the blow.

BRUTUS.

In this you wrong me, PORTIA.

PORTIA.

Would I did!

I never wish'd a wrong to you before.

BRUTUS.

How have I liv'd, and which of all my actions
Has giv❜n the least occasion ev'n for malice?
I am, you know, not like the rest of husbands;
My promise and my vows are ties to me,
As strong as fame and virtue are to you:
I will not mention now the bands of love,
In which I thought we were for ever fix'd.
What these unjuft fufpicions may produce
Either in you or me, alas! I know not.
Therefore be calm and kind, as thou art us'd,
And try fuch rough, ungentle ways no more.
My mind, you know, hardens against compulfion,
But eafily bends under gentle usage.

PORTIA.

O let me now try that foft way again.
Thus low, thus tenderly, I beg to know

[Falls on his neck.

That which, in troubling you, ev'n tortures me.
Shunn'd as I am, I have a fhare in all

Your refolutions, fpite of your unkindness.
You cannot shut me out from tender cares
For ev'ry thought of yours: that zealous part
The meanest flave may have in mighty CAESAR,
And yet give no offence.

BRUTUS.

The mighty CAESAR!

I am that meaneft slave, if he remain

[Apart. The mighty CAESAR. Kneel not, gentle PORTIA.

PORTIA.

I fhould not need, if you were gentle BRUTUS. [Weeps.

Brutus.

Oh! my foft heart! my refolution's arm'd
Against all dangers, nay, against my friend;
Yet, firm to all things elfe, it yields to love;

[Takes her in his arms. It yields to PORTIA. You are now too charming: For pity, hide your kindness, or your beauty ; There's no refifting both.

PORTIA.

'Tis kindness only

Which makes me wish I had that beauty too.
But are you, then, not angry?

BRUTUS.

What! with thee?

The most obdurate creature, ev'n a tyrant,
In all his height of anger, and of pride,
Could not be proof against one tear of thine.

[Kiffes her.

Oh! PORTIA, be not you that tyrant then;
For well you know your pow'r, and may be mine.

But tell me all.

PORTIA.

BRUTUS.

Then, know, that they who came to me this night

But why fhould I go on to thee, my PORTIA,

In any language but in that of love?

'Tis to profane thy ear to entertain it
With any harfher found; fpare then thyself.

PORTIA.

But you were just about to let me know.

BRUTUS.

Know what! know things that will but trouble thee! Believe me, PORTIA, 'tis dangerous

For thee to tread in these obscurer paths;

Serpents lie hidden there, whose conscious sting

Will rob thee of thy rest.

Oh! prefs not thus to bear a part in that,
Which with its weight will crush thy tender mind.
PORTIA.

I am a woman, but am CATO's daughter:
My heart is tender, but to BRUTUS only.
Think you 'tis nothing, to have such a father,
And fuch a husband?

BRUTUS.

Well then, hear it all.

PORTIA.

Hold, dearest Brutus.

I dare not hear it yet; I'll try this first.

[She ftabs herself in the arm.

BRUTUS.

Hold, what d'ye mean?

PORTIA.

To try my fortitude.

For, tho' I durft have trufted my firm mind
With any thing which but concern'd myself;
Where you're engag'd, it was too great a venture:
I doubt my firmest thoughts, while you fufpect them.
BRUTUS.

Oh, wonder of thy fex!

Gods! make me worthy of this matchless woman!

Haste, hafte, and let thy wound be quickly drefs'd. Within I'll tell thee all,

And in thy bofom pour my very foul.

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A messenger, my lord, from mighty CAESAR
Is fent to fummon you, and CAIUS CASSIUS,
About fome weighty matter presently.

BRUTUS.

[Exit LUCIUS.

From CAESAR! and my brother CASSIUS too!
An early fummons this! We are betray'd,
Loft and undone, yet less in our own ruin,
Than in the letting him escape. Oh! Rome,
Thou haft in vain depended on thy BRUTUS!
But I will go, left my delaying now
Should raise fufpicion; and if all's difcover'd,
My life is useless, and not worth my care.

[Exeunt.

Between the fecond and third Act, these verses are to be fung by a perfon reprefenting the Genius of Rome.

L

SECOND CHORUS.

O! to prevent this mighty empire's doom,
From bright unknown abodes of bliss I come,

The awful Genius of majestick Rome.

Great is her danger: but I will engage
Some few, the master-fouls of all this age,
To do an act of just heroick rage.

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