The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 259

Clock strikes.

BRUTUS. Peace, count the clock.

Ca.s.sIUS. The clock hath stricken three.

TREBONIUS. 'Tis time to part.

Ca.s.sIUS. But it is doubtful yet Whether Caesar will come forth today or no, For he is superst.i.tious 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 today.

DECIUS. 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 gla.s.ses, 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 his humor the true bent, And I will bring him to the Capitol.

Ca.s.sIUS. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.

BRUTUS. By the eighth hour. Is that the utter most?

CINNA. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.

METELLUS. Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey.

I wonder none of you have thought of him.

BRUTUS. Now, good Metellus, go along by him.

He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I'll fas.h.i.+on him.

Ca.s.sIUS. The morning comes upon 's. We'll leave you, Brutus, And, friends, disperse yourselves, but all remember What you have said and show yourselves true Romans.

BRUTUS. 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.

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.

Enter Portia.

PORTIA. Brutus, my lord!

BRUTUS. 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.

PORTIA. Nor for yours neither. 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 waiter 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 humor, 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, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

BRUTUS. I am not well in health, and that is all.

PORTIA. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, He would embrace the means to come by it.

BRUTUS. Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.

PORTIA. Is Brutus sick, and is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humors 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 offense 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 tonight Have had resort to you; for here have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness.

BRUTUS. Kneel not, gentle Portia.

PORTIA. 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 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.

BRUTUS. You are my true and honorable wife, As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart.

PORTIA. 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 s.e.x, Being so father'd and so husbanded?

Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em.

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?

BRUTUS. O ye G.o.ds, Render me worthy of this n.o.ble wife! Knocking within.

Hark, hark, one knocks. Portia, go in awhile, 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.] Lucius, who's that knocks?

Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius.

LUCIUS. Here is a sick man that would speak with you.

BRUTUS. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.

Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?

LIGARIUS. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.

BRUTUS. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!

LIGARIUS. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand Any exploit worthy the name of honor.

BRUTUS. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

LIGARIUS. By all the G.o.ds that Romans bow before, I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!

Brave son, derived from honorable loins!

Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible, Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?

BRUTUS. A piece of work that will make sick men whole.

LIGARIUS. But are not some whole that we must make sick?

BRUTUS. That must we also. What it is, my Caius, I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done.

LIGARIUS. 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.

BRUTUS. Follow me then. Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Caesar's house. Thunder and lightning.

Enter Caesar, in his nightgown.

CAESAR. Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace tonight.

Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, "Help, ho! They murther Caesar!" Who's within?

Enter a Servant.

SERVANT. My lord?

CAESAR. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, And bring me their opinions of success.

SERVANT. I will, my lord. Exit.

Enter Calpurnia.

CALPURNIA. What mean you, Caesar? Think you to walk forth?

You shall not stir out of your house today.

CAESAR. Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see The face of Caesar, they are vanished.

CALPURNIA. Caesar, I I 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 Caesar! These things are beyond all use, And I do fear them.

CAESAR. What can be avoided Whose end is purposed by the mighty G.o.ds?

Yet Caesar shall go forth, for these predictions Are to the world in general as to Caesar.

CALPURNIA. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

CAESAR. 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.

Re-enter Servant.