Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time:
What should the wars do with these jigging fools?136
Companion, hence!
Cas. Away, away: be gone!
Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you,140
Immediately to us.
Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine![Exit Lucius.]
Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry.
Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use,144
If you give place to accidental evils.
Bru. No man bears sorrow better: Portia is dead.
Cas. Ha? Portia?
Bru. She is dead.148
Cas. How 'scap'd I killing when I cross'd you so?
O insupportable and touching loss!
Upon what sickness?
Bru. Impatient of my absence.
And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony152
Have made themselves so strong;—for with her death
That tidings came:—with this she fell distract,
And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire.
135 I'll listen to his folly when he learns the proper time for it
136 jigging: doggerel rhyming
137 Companion: base fellow
139 lodge . . . to-night: encamp for the night
145 give . . . accidental: admit the power of casual
151 Upon: of
Impatient of: unable to endure
152 grief; cf. n.
154 fell distract: became distracted
