Portia monologue (Act 2) — The New Hudson Shakespeare: Julius Cæsar

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; 240 And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me with ungentle looks: I urg'd you further; then you scratch'd your head, And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot: Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, 245 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, 250 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, 255 Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.