For he can do no more than Cæsar's arm,
When Cæsar's head is off.

Cas. Yet I do fear him :

For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar,-
Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
If he love Cæsar, all that he can do

Is to himself, take thought,* and die for Cæsar:
And that were much he should; for he is given
To sports, to wildness, and much company.

Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die;
And he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
Bru. Peace, count the clock.

Cas. The clock hath stricken three.
Treb. 'Tis time to part.

Cas. But it is doubtful yet,

Whe'r Cæsar will come forth to-day, or no:
For he is superstitious grown of late;
Quite from the main opinion he held once
Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies; †
It may be, these apparent prodigies,
The unaccustom'd terror of this night,
And the persuasion of his augurers,
May hold him from the Capitol to-day.
Dec. Never fear that: If he be so resolved.
I can o'ersway him: for he loves to hear,
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers:
But, when I tell him, he hates flatterers,
He says, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me work:

For I can give this humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitol.

[Clock strikes.

Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
Bru. By the eighth hour: Is that the uttermost ?
Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Cæsar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder, none of you have thought of him.
Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him:‡
He loves me well, and I have given him reasons;
Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.

Cas. The morning comes upon us: We'll leave you, Brutus :— And, friends, disperse yourselves: but all remember

What you have said, and show 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 untired spirits, and formal constancy:
And so, good morrow to you every one.

[Exeunt all but BRUTUS.

By his house.

§ Show.

Boy! Lucius!-Fast asleep? It is no matter;
* Turn melancholy. † Omens.
VOL. IV.

C

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.

Por. Brutus, my lord!

Enter PORTIA.

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 stared upon me with ungentle looks:

I urged 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 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 hath much prevail'd on your condition,f
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 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: And, upon my knees,
I charm 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, yourself, your half,
Why you are heavy; and what men to-night
Have had resort to you: for there have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.

* Imaginative shapes.

† Temper.

+ Moist.

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 expected, 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;

As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart.

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

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 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.

Enter LUCIUS and LIGARIUS.

Lucius, who is that, knocks?

[Exit PORTIA.

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 I in hand, Ligarius,

Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

Lig. By all the gods that Romans bow before
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome!
Brave son, derived from honourable loins!
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up
My mortified spirit. Now bid me run

* Meaning.

And I will strive with things impossible;

Yea, get the better of them. 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?
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-fired, I follow you,

To do I know not what: but it sufficeth,
That Brutus leads me on.

Bru. Follow me then.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room in CESAR'S Palace. Thunder and lightning. Enter CESAR, 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 ?

Serv. My lord?

Enter a SERVANT.

Cas. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice,

And bring me their opinions of success..

Serv. I will, my lord.

Enter CALPHURNIA.

[Exit.

Cal. What mean you, Cæsar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stir out of your house to-day.

Cæs. Cæsar shall forth: The things that threatened me,
Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see
The face of Cæsar, they are vanished.

Cal. Cæsar, 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 Cæsar! these things are beyond all use,
And I do fear them.

Cas. What can be avoided,

Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?

Yet Cæsar shall go forth: for these predictions

Are to the world in general, as to Cæsar.

Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Cas. Cowards die many times before their deaths;

Never paid regard to omens.

+ Clashed.

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 will not have you to stir forth to-day.
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,

They could not find a heart within the beast.
Cas. The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
Cæsar should be a beast without a heart,
If he should stay at home to-day for fear.
No, Cæsar shall not: Danger knows full well,
That Cæsar 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.

Cal. Alas, my lord,

Your wisdom is consumed in confidence.

Do not go forth to-day: Call it my fear,

That keeps you in the house, and not your own.
We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house;
And he shall say, you are not well to-day:
Let me upon my knee, prevail in this.

Cæs. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well;
And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.

Enter DECIUS.

Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.

Dec. Cæsar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar:

I come to fetch you to the senate-house.

Cas. And you are come in very happy time

To bear my greeting to the senators,

And tell them, that I will not come to-day:
Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser;
I will not come to day: Tell them so, Decius.
Cal. Say, he is sick.

Cas. Shall Cæsar send a lie ?

Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far

To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth?

Decius, go tell them, Cæsar will not come.

Dec. Most mighty Cæsar, let me know some cause,

Lest I be laugh'd at, when I tell them so.

Cas. The cause is in my will, I will not come ;

That is enough to satisfy the senate.

But, for your private satisfaction,

Because I love you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:
She dreamt to-night she saw my statua,
Which like a fountain, with a hundred spouts,
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans