[Re-enter Lucius with Ligarius.]

LUCIUS.
Here is a sick man that would speak with you.

BRUTUS.
Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.--
Boy, stand aside.--Caius Ligarius,--how?

LIGARIUS.
Vouchsafe good-morrow from a feeble tongue.

BRUTUS.
O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!

LIGARIUS.
I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of honour.

BRUTUS.
Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.

LIGARIUS.
By all the gods that Romans bow before,
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome!
Brave son, derived from honorable loins!
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up