Exit Portia.
Enter Lucius and Ligarius.
Lucius, who's that knockes
Luc. Heere is a sicke man that would speak with you
Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?
Cai. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue
Bru. O what a time haue you chose out braue Caius
To weare a Kerchiefe? Would you were not sicke
Cai. I am not sicke, if Brutus haue in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of Honor
Bru. Such an exploit haue I in hand Ligarius,
Had you a healthfull eare to heare of it
Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I heere discard my sicknesse. Soule of Rome,
Braue Sonne, deriu'd from Honourable Loines,
Thou like an Exorcist, hast coniur'd vp
My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,
And I will striue with things impossible,
Yea get the better of them. What's to do?
Bru. A peece of worke,
That will make sicke men whole
Cai. But are not some whole, that we must make sicke?
Bru. That must we also. What it is my Caius,
I shall vnfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it must be done