Scene IV

[Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus.]

Enter Portia and Lucius.

PORTIA:
I prithee, boy, run to the Senate-house;
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
Why dost thou stay?
LUCIUS:
To know my errand, madam.
PORTIA:
I would have had thee there, and here again,(5)
Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst 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!(10)
Art thou here yet?
LUCIUS:
Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?
PORTIA:
Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,(15)
For he went sickly forth; and take good note
What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
Hark, boy, what noise is that?
LUCIUS:
I hear none, madam.
PORTIA:
Prithee, listen well.(20)
I heard a bustling rumor like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
LUCIUS:
Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

Enter the Soothsayer.

PORTIA:
Come hither, fellow; which way hast thou been?
SOOTHSAYER:
At mine own house, good lady.(25)
PORTIA:
What is't o'clock?
SOOTHSAYER:
About the ninth hour, lady.
PORTIA:
Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
SOOTHSAYER:
Madam, not yet. I go to take my stand
To see him pass on to the Capitol.(30)
PORTIA:
Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
SOOTHSAYER:
That I have, lady. If it will please Caesar
To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
PORTIA:
Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?(35)
SOOTHSAYER:
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 Caesar at the heels,
Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death.(40)
I'll get me to a place more void and there
Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.

Exit.

PORTIA:
I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing
The heart of woman is! O Brutus,
The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!(45)
Sure, the boy heard me. Brutus hath a suit
That Caesar 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.(50)

Exeunt [severally.]