How hard it is for women to keep counsel!--
Art thou here yet?

LUCIUS.
Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
And so return to you, and nothing else?

PORTIA.
Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
For he went sickly forth: and take good note
What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
Hark, boy! what noise is that?

LUCIUS.
I hear none, madam.

PORTIA.
Pr'ythee, listen well:
I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
And the wind brings it from the Capitol.

LUCIUS.
Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.

[Enter Artemidorus.]

PORTIA.
Come hither, fellow:
Which way hast thou been?