conceived in the most heroical spirit, and the burst of tenderness in Brutus—
"You are my true and honourable wife;
As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
That visit my sad heart"—
is justified by her whole behaviour. Portia's breathless impatience to learn the event of the conspiracy, in the dialogue with Lucius, is full of passion. The interest which Portia takes in Brutus and that which Calphurnia takes in the fate of Cæsar are discriminated with the nicest precision. Mark Antony's speech over the dead body of Cæsar has been justly admired for the mixture of pathos and artifice in it: that of Brutus certainly is not so good.
The entrance of the conspirators to the house of Brutus at midnight is rendered very impressive. In the midst of this scene, we meet with one of those careless and natural digressions which occur so frequently and beautifully in Shakespear. After Cassius has introduced his friends one by one, Brutus says,
"They are all welcome.
What watchful cares do interpose themselves
Betwixt your eyes and night?
Cassius. Shall I entreat a word? (They whisper.)
Decius. Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?
Casca. No.
Cinna. O pardon. Sir, it doth; and yon grey lines,
