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Bru. I'll know his humour, when he knows his time: What should the wars do with these jigging fools? Companion, hence!

Cas. Away, away: be gone!

Exit Poet.

Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.

Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you, Immediately to us.

[Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius.]

Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine!

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, If you give place to accidental evils.

Bru. No man bears sorrow better: Portia is dead.

Cas. Ha? Portia?

Bru. She is dead.

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 Antony 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 