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[Another part of the same street, before the house of Brutus.]
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Enter Portia and Lucius.
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PORTIA:
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I prithee, boy, run to the Senate-house;
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
Why dost thou stay?
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LUCIUS:
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To know my errand, madam.
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PORTIA:
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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?
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LUCIUS:
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Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?
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PORTIA:
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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?
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LUCIUS:
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I hear none, madam.
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PORTIA:
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Prithee, listen well.(20)
I heard a bustling rumor like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
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LUCIUS:
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Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
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Enter the Soothsayer.
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PORTIA:
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Come hither, fellow; which way hast thou been?
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SOOTHSAYER:
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At mine own house, good lady.(25)
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PORTIA:
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What is't o'clock?
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SOOTHSAYER:
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About the ninth hour, lady.
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PORTIA:
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Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
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SOOTHSAYER:
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Madam, not yet. I go to take my stand
To see him pass on to the Capitol.(30)
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PORTIA:
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Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
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SOOTHSAYER:
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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.
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PORTIA:
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Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?(35)
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SOOTHSAYER:
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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.
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Exit.
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PORTIA:
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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)
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Exeunt [severally.]
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