Portia and Brutus

Context:

Portia has noticed that Brutus is troubled from something and she asks him if she may know what it is. He says that he is sick, but Portia doesn't believe him and demands to know what is wrong. She tells him that she is strong enough to take in the truth and that she won't tell anyone about the matter.

Meaning and Significance:

This scene shows that Brutus is uneasy about killing Caesar that he can't even tell his own wife about it. It also shows Brutus as someone who listens and understand his wife.

Quote:

Enter PORTIA 



PORTIA

Brutus, my lord! 



BRUTUS

Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now?

It is not for your health thus to commit

Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. 



PORTIA

Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,

Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper,

You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,

Musing and sighing, with your arms across,

And when I ask'd you what the matter was,

You stared upon me with ungentle looks;

I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head,

And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;

Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,

But, with an angry wafture of your hand,

Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did;

Fearing to strengthen that impatience

Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal

Hoping it was but an effect of humour,

Which sometime hath his hour with every man.

It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,

And could it work so much upon your shape

As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,

I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,

Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. 



BRUTUS

I am not well in health, and that is all.



PORTIA

Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,

He would embrace the means to come by it.

BRUTUS

Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. 



PORTIA

Is Brutus sick? and is it physical

To walk unbraced and suck up the humours

Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,

And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,

To dare the vile contagion of the night

And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air

To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;

You have some sick offence within your mind,

Which, by the right and virtue of my place,

I ought to know of: and, upon my knees,

I charm you, by my once-commended beauty,

By all your vows of love and that great vow

Which did incorporate and make us one,

That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,

Why you are heavy, and what men to-night

Have had to resort to you: for here have been

Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness. 



BRUTUS

Kneel not, gentle Portia.

PORTIA

I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.

Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,

Is it excepted I should know no secrets

That appertain to you? Am I yourself

But, as it were, in sort or limitation,

To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,

And talk to you sometimes?

Dwell I but in the suburbs

Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,

Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. 



BRUTUS

You are my true and honourable wife,

As dear to me as are the ruddy drops

That visit my sad heart

PORTIA

If this were true, then should I know this secret.

I grant I am a woman; but withal

A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife:

I grant I am a woman; but withal

A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter.

Think you I am no stronger than my sex,

Being so father'd and so husbanded? 


Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em:

I have made strong proof of my constancy,

Giving myself a voluntary wound

Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience.

And not my husband's secrets?

BRUTUS 



O ye gods,

Render me worthy of this noble wife! 



Knocking within

Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile;

And by and by thy bosom shall partake 


The secrets of my heart.

All my engagements I will construe to thee, 


All the charactery of my sad brows: 


Leave me with haste. 



Exit PORTIA

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