Not hew him as a carcase fit for hounds: This shall make Our purpose necessary, and not envious: Cas. Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: If he love Cæsar, all that he can do 8 Is to himself; take thought, and die for Cæsar: Treb. There is no fear in him; let him not die; For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. Bru. Peace, count the clock. [Clock strikes. The clock hath stricken three. Treb. 'Tis time to part. Cas. For he is superstitious grown of late; take thought,] That is, turn melancholy. company.] Company is here used in a disreputable sense. Quite from the main opinion he held once Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies:] Main opinion, is nothing more than leading, fixed, predominant opinion. Fantasy was in our author's time commonly used for imagination. Ceremonies means omens or signs deduced from sacrifices, or other ceremonial rites. And the persuasion of his augurers, For I can give his humour the true bent; Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him;3 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 Ro mans. Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; 2 That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, And bears with glasses, elephants with holes.] Unicorns are said to have been taken by one who, running behind a tree, eluded the violent push the animal was making at him, so that his horn spent its force on the trunk, and stuck fast, detaining the beast till he was despatched by the hunter. Bears are reported to have been surprised by means of a mirror, which they would gaze on, affording their pursuers an opportunity of taking the surer aim. Elephants were seduced into pitfalls, lightly covered with hurdles and turf, on which a proper bait to tempt them, was exposed. by him:] That is, by his house. Let not our looks put on our purposes; [Exeunt all but BRUTUS. 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. Por. Enter PORTIA. Brutus, my lord! Bru. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise It is not for your health, thus to commit Stole from my bed: And yesternight, at supper, I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head, Which seem'd too much enkindled; and, withal, Which sometime hath his hour with every man. * Let not our looks-] Let not our faces put on, that is, wear of show our designs. VOL. VIII. X And, could it work so much upon your shape, Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. 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 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 To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, your mind. suburbs on your condition,] On your temper; the disposition of Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, Bru. You are my true and honourable wife; 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: Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose them: Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: Can I bear that with patience, And not my husband's secrets? Bru. Render me worthy of this noble wife! O ye gods, [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 is 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, |