SCENE IV.

THE SAME. ANOTHER PART OF THE SAME STREET, BEFORE THE HOUSE OF BRUTUS.

Enter Portia and Lucius.

Por. I pr'ythee, boy, run to the senate-house; Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone:

Why dost thou stay?

Luc.

To know my errand, madam.

Por. I would have had thee there, and here. again,

Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there.-
O constancy, be strong upon my side!

Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue!
I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.
How hard it is for women to keep counsel!—

Art thou here yet?

Luc.

Madam, what should I do?

Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?

And so return to you, and nothing else?

Por. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look

well,

For he went sickly forth: And take good note,
What Cæsar doth, what suitors press to him.

Hark, boy! what noise is that?

Luc. I hear none, madam.

Por.

Pr'ythee, listen well:

I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,

And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

Por. Is Cæsar yet gone to the Capitol?
Sooth. Madam, not yet; I go to take my stand,

To see him pass on to the Capitol.

Por. Thou hast some suit to Cæsar, hast thou not?

Sooth. That I have, lady: if it will please Cæsar To be so good to Cæsar, as to hear me, I shall beseech him to befriend himself.

Por. Why, know'st thou any harm's intended

towards him?

Sooth. None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.

Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow:
The throng that follows Cæsar at the heels,

Of senators, of prætors, common suitors,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:

I'll get me to a place more void, and there
Speak to great Cæsar as he comes along.

[Exit.

Por. I must go in. -Ah me! how weak a thing

The heart of woman is! O Brutus!

The heavens speed thee in thine enterprize!

Sure, the boy heard me:-Brutus hath a suit,
That Cæsar will not grant.-O, I grow faint:---
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
Say, I am merry: come to me again,

And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

[Ereunt. ACT IIІ. SCENE I.

THE SAME. THE CAPITOL; THE SENATE SITTING.

A crowd of people in the street leading to the Capitol; among them Artemidorus, and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter Cæsar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and Others.

Cæs. The ides of March are come.
Sooth. Ay, Cæsar; but not gone.
Art. Hail, Cæsar! Read this schedule.
Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read,

At your best leisure, this his humble suit.

Art. O, Cæsar, read mine first; for mine's a

That touches Cæsar nearer: Read it, great Cæsar. Cæs. What touches us ourself, shall be last serv'd.

Art. Delay not, Cæsar; read it instantly.

Cæs. What, is the fellow mad!

Pub.

Sirrah, give place.

Cas. What, urge you your petitions in the street?

Come to the Capitol.

Cæsar enters the Capitol, the rest following.
All the Senators rise.

Pop. I wish your enterprize to-day may thrive.

Cas. What enterprize, Popilius?

Pop. Fare you well.

Bru. What said Popilius Lena?

[advances to Cæsar.

Cas. He wish'd, to-day our enterprize might

thrive.

I fear, our purpose is discovered.

Bru. Look, how he makes to Cæsar: Mark him. Cas. Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.

Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,

Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back,

For I will slay myself.

Bru.

Cassius, be constant:

Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;
For, look, he smiles, and Cæsar doth not change.

Cas. Trebonius knows his time; for, look you,

Brutus,

He draws Mark Antony out of the way.

[Exeunt Antony and Trebonius. Cæsar and

the Senators take their seats.

Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,

And presently prefer his suit to Cæsar.

Bru. He is address'd: press near, and second him. Cin. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. Cæs. Are we all ready? what is now amiss,

That Cæsar, and his senate, must redress?

Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant

Cæsar,

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat

An humble heart:-
Cæs.

[Kneeling.

I must prevent thee, Cimber.

These couchings, and these lowly courtesies,
Might fire the blood of ordinary men;

And turn pre-ordinance, and first decree,
Into the law of children. Be not fond,
To think that Cæsar bears such rebel blood,