BRUTUS. Get you hence, sirrah. Saucy fellow, hence! 

CASSIUS. Bear with him, Brutus; ’tis his fashion. 

BRUTUS. I’ll know his humour when he knows his time. What should the wars do with these jigging fools? Companion, hence! 

CASSIUS. Away, away, be gone! 

 [Exit Poet.]

Poet

BRUTUS. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies tonight. 

CASSIUS. And come yourselves and bring Messala with you Immediately to us. 

 [Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.]

Lucilius

Titinius

BRUTUS. Lucius, a bowl of wine. 

 [Exit Lucius.]

Lucius

CASSIUS. I did not think you could have been so angry. 

BRUTUS. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. 

CASSIUS. Of your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils. 

BRUTUS. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead. 

CASSIUS. Ha? Portia? 

BRUTUS. She is dead. 

 Prev. P 54/72 next