[1] And yet many things occurred to surprise and disturb them. First and foremost, though the day was advancing, Caesar delayed his coming, being detained at home by his wife because his omens were unpropitious,
1
and prevented from going forth by the soothsayers.
[2] In the second place, some one came up to Casca, one of the conspirators, took him by the hand, and said:
You hid the secret from us, Casca, but Brutus has told me everything.
[3] And when Casca was dumb with amazement, the man burst out laughing and said:
How did you get so rich on a sudden, my good fellow, as to stand for the aedilesilip? So near did Casca come, in the mistake caused by the man’s ambiguity, to disclosing the secret.
[4] Moreover, Brutus and Cassius were greeted more warmly than, usual by Popilius Laenas, a senator, who then whispered quietly to them:
I join you in praying for the accomplishment of what you have in mind, and exhort you not to delay, for the matter is on men’s tongues. Having said this, he went away, leaving them full of suspicion that their undertaking had become known.
[5]
At this juncture, too, a messenger from his house came running to Brutus with the tidings that his wife was dead.
At this juncture, too, a messenger from his house came running to Brutus with the tidings that his wife was dead.
[6] For Porcia, being distressed about what was impending and unable to bear the weight of her anxiety, could with difficulty keep herself at home, and at every noise or cry, like women in the Bacchic frenzy, she would rush forth and ask every messenger who came in from the forum how Brutus was faring, and kept sending out others continually.
[7] Finally, as the time grew long, her bodily powers could no longer endure the strain, but were relaxed and enfeebled as her perplexities threatened to drive her mad. She had not time to go to her chamber, but just as she was, sitting in the midst of her servants, she was overwhelmed with faintness and helpless stupor, her colour fled, and her speech was utterly stayed.
[8] Her maids shrieked at the sight, and since the neighbours came running in a crowd to the door, a report speedily went forth and a story was spread abroad that she was dead.
[9] However, she revived in a short time, came to herself, and was cared for by her women; but Brutus, though he was confounded, naturally, by the startling tale, nevertheless did not abandon his public duty, nor was he driven by his affliction to dwell on his private concerns.
Brutus. Plutarch. Cambridge, MA. 1918.
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