Act II, Scene 4
Rome. A street before the house of Brutus.
- Enter Portia and Lucius.
Portia1 - 3
- I prithee, boy, run to the Senate-house;
- Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
- Why dost thou stay?
- To know my errand, madam.
Portia5 - 11
- I would have had thee there and here again
- 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!—
- Art thou here yet?
Lucius12 - 14
- Madam, what should I do?
- Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
- And so return to you, and nothing else?
Portia15 - 18
- Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
- For he went sickly forth; and take good note
- What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
- Hark, boy, what noise is that?
- I hear none, madam.
Portia20 - 22
- Prithee listen well;
- I heard a bustling rumor, like a fray,
- And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
- Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
- Enter the Soothsayer.
- Come hither, fellow; which way hast thou been?
- At mine own house, good lady.
- What is’t a’ clock?
- About the ninth hour, lady.
- Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
Soothsayer29 - 30
- Madam, not yet; I go to take my stand,
- To see him pass on to the Capitol.
- Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
Soothsayer32 - 34
- 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.
- Why, know’st thou any harm’s intended towards him?
Soothsayer36 - 42
- 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.
- I’ll get me to a place more void, and there
- Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.
Portia43 - 50
- I must go in. Ay me! How weak a thing
- The heart of woman is! O Brutus,
- The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!
- 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.
- Exeunt severally.