Page 2188 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

But with an angry wafture of your hand
Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seemed too much enkindled, and withal [250]

Hoping it was but an effect of humour,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,
And could it work so much upon your shape

As it hath much prevailed on your condition, [255]
I should not know you Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.

BRUTUS
I am not well in health, and that is all.

PORTIA
Brutus is wise, and were he not in health

He would embrace the means to come by it. [260]

BRUTUS
Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.

PORTIA
Is Brutus sick, and is it physical
To walk unbracèd and suck up the humours
Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,

And will he steal out of his wholesome bed [265]
To dare the vile contagion of the night,
And tempt the rheumy and unpurgèd air
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus.

You have some sick offence within your mind,
Which by the right and virtue of my place [270]
I ought to know of; and upon my knees
I charm you, by my once commended beauty,

By all your vows of love, and that great vow
Which did incorporate and make us one,
That you unfold to me, your self, your half, [275]
Why you are heavy, and what men tonight