PORTIA.--Prithee, listen well;
I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
Then, after the conversation with the soothsayer:
"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 Cæsar will not grant--O, I grow faint:--
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;