If you give place to accidental evils.
Brutus. No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
Cassius. Ha! Portia!
Brutus. She is dead.
150Cassius. How 'scaped I killing when I cross'd you so?
O insupportable and touching loss!
Upon what sickness?
Brutus.
Impatient[96] of my absence,