Caf. The clock hath ftricken three.
Treb. 'Tis time to part.

Caf. But it is doubtful yet,

*

If Cæfar will come forth to day, or no
For he is fuperftitious grown of late,
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantasy, or dreams and ceremonies
It may be, thefe apparent prodigies,
The unaccustom'd terror of this night,
And the perfuafion of his augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.

;

Dec. Never fear that; if he be so resolv'd,
I can o'erfway him; "for he loves to hear,
"That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
"And bears with glaffes, elephants with holes,
"Lions with toils, and men with flatterers.
"But when I tell him, he hates flatterers,
"He fays he does; being then moft fluttered.
Leave me to work :

For I can give his humour the true bent,
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Caf. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. Bru. By the eighth hour, is that the uttermoft ? Cin. Be that the uttermoft, and fail not then. Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæfar hard, Who rated him for fpeaking well of Pompey; I wonder none of you have thought of him.

Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along to him: He loves me well; and I have given him reasons ; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Caf. The morning comes upon's; we'll leave you,
Brutus ;

And, friends! difperfe yourselves; but all remember
What you have faid, and fhew yourselves true Romans.
Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
Let not our looks put on our purposes:
But bear it as our Roman actors do,

With untir'd fpirits, and formal constancy;
And fo, good morrow to you every one.

[Exeunt

By fantasy is meant ominous forebodings; and by ceremonies, atonements of the gods by means of religious rites and sacrifices.

Manet Brutus.

Boy! Lucius! fast asleep? it is no matter, "Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of flumber : "Thou hast no figures, nor no fantafies,

« Which busy care draws in the brains of men ; "Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

SCENE III.

Por. Brutus, my Lord!

Enter Portia.

Bru. Portia, what mean you? wherefore rife you It is not for your health thus to commit

Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.

[now?

Por. Nor for your's neither. "You've ungently,

Brutus,

"Stole from my bed. And, yefternight at fupper, "You fuddenly arofe and walk'd about,

Mufing and fighing, with your arms acrofs : "And when I alk'd you what the matter was, "You ftar'd upon me with ungentle looks.. "I urg'd you further; then you fcratch'd your head, "And too impatiently ftamp'd with your foot: "Yet I infifted; yet you answer'd not;

"But, with an angry wafture of your hand,
"Gave fign for me to leave you: fo I did,
"Fearing to ftrengthen that impatience,

"Which feem'd too much inkindled; and, withal, Hoping it was but an effect of humour,

"Which fometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor fleep;
And could it work fo much upon your shape,
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your caufe of grief.
Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all.
Por. Brutus is wife, and were he not in health,
He would embrace the means to come by it.

Bru. Why, fo I do: good Portia, go to bed.
Por. Is Brutus fick ! and is it physical
To walk unbraced, and fuck up the humours
Of the dank morning? What! is Brutus fick?
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 fickness? No, my Brutus ;
You have fome fick 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, yourfelf, your half,
Why you are heavy; and what men to-night
Have had refort to you; for here have been
Some fix or feven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.

Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia.

Por. I fhould not need, if you were gentle Brutus. 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,

And talk to you fometimes? 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 vifit 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 withal

A woman well reputed Cato's daughter.
Think you I am no ftronger than my fex,
Being fo father'd, and fo husbanded?

Tell me your counfels, I will not difclofe them:
I have made ftrong proof of my conftancy,

Giving myself a voluntary wound

Here in the thigh: can I bear that with patience,
And not my husband's fecrets !

Bru. O ye gods!

Render me worthy of this noble wife.

[Knock.

Hark, hark, one knocks: Portia, go in a while;

And, by and by, thy bofom fhall partake
The secrets of my heart.

All my engagements I will conftrue to thee,
All the charactery of my sad brows.

Leave me with hafte.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's there that knocks?

[Exit Portia.

Luc. Here is a fick man, that would speak with you. Bru. Caius Ligarius that Metellus fpake of. Boy, ftand afide. Caius Ligarius! how?

Lig Vouchfafe good morrow, from a feeble tongue. -Bru O, what a time have you chofe out, brave Caius, To wear a kerchief? 'would you were not fick ! Lig. I am not fick, if Brutus have in hand Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

Bru. Such an exploit have 1 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 fickness. Soul of Rome!
Brave fon, deriv'd from honourable loins!
Thou, like an exorcift, haft conjur'd up
My mortified fpirit. Now bid me run,
And I will strive with things impoffible;
Yea, get the better of thein.

What's to do?

Bru. A piece of work that will make fick men whole. Lig. But are not fome whole that we must make fick? Bru. That we muft alfo.

What it is, my Caius,

I fhall 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.

SCENE

IV.

[Exeunt.

Changes to Cafar's palace.

Thunder and lightning. Enter Julius Cæfar.

Caf. Nor heav'n, nor earth, have been at peace toThrice hath Calphurnia in her fleep cry'd out, [night; Help, ho they murder Cæfar." Who's within ? C

'

VOL. VII.

Ser. My Lord?

Enter a Servant.

Caf. Go bid the priests do prefent facrifice, And bring me their opinions of fuccefs.

Ser. I will, my Lord.

Enter Calphurnia.

[Exit.

h?

Cal. What mean you, Cæfar? think you to walk fort You fhall not stir out of your house to-day,

Caf. Cæfar fhall forth; the things that threatned me
Ne'er look'd but on my back: when they fhall fee
The face of Cæfar, they are vanished.

Cal. Cæfar, I never stood on ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me. There is one within
(Befides the things that we have heard and feen)
Recounts molt horrid fights feen by the watch,
A lionefs 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;
Horfes did nigh, and dying men did grone;
And ghofts did fhriek, and squeal about the streets.
O Cæfar! these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.

Caf. What can be avoided,

Whofe end is purpos'd by the mighty gods?
Yet Cæfar fhall go forth: for these predictions
Are to the world in general, as to Cæfar.

Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets feen; The heav'ns themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Caf. "Cowards die many times before their deaths, "The valiant never taste of death but once. "Of all the wonders that I yet have have heard, It seems to me moft ftrange, that men should fear; "Seeing that death, a neceffary end,

Will come, when it will come.

Enter a Servant.

What fay the Augurs?