-What's their seek Would feed on one another! ing? Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, The city is well stor❜d. Mar. Hang 'em! they say? They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know Making parties strong, And feebling such as stand not in their liking, They say, there's grain enough! Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, Men. But, I beseech you, Mar. They are dissolv'd: They said, they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs ; That," Hunger broke stone walls,"-that, "Dogs must eat," That, "Meat was made for mouths,"-that, "The gods sent not Corn for the rich men only:"-With these shreds They vented their complainings: which being answer'd, And a petition granted them, a strange one, To break the heart of generosity, And make bold power look pale,-they threw their caps, As they would hang them on the horns o'the moon, Shouting their emulation. Men. What is granted them? Mar. Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar wisdoms, Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus, Sicinius Velutus, and I know not- -'Sdeath! Men. This is strange. Enter an OFFICER. Offi. Where's Caius Marcius? Mar. Here.-What is the matter? Offi. The news is, sir, the Volscians are in arms. Mar. I am glad on't; then we shall have means to vent Our musty superfluity. Enter COMINIUS, LICTORS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS. Com. Marcius, 'tis true, that you have lately told us, The Volscians are in arms. Mar. They have a leader, Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't. I sin in envying his nobility: And, where I any thing, but what I am, I'd wish me only he. Com. You have fought together? Mar. Were half to half the world by the ears, and he Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make Only my wars with him: He is a lion That I am proud to hunt. Men. Then, worthy Marcius, Attend upon Cominius to these wars. Com. It is your former promise. And I am constant :--thou Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. Men. O, true bred! Com. Your company to the capitol : where, I know Our greatest friends attend us. Mar. Lead you on. [Exeunt OFFICER, LICTORS, and COMINIUS. Men. Hence! to your homes,-begone. Mar. Nay, let them follow; The Volscians have much corn: take these rats thither, To gnaw their garners.-Worshipful mutineers, [Exeunt MENENIUS, CAIUS MARCIUS, and Sic. Was ever man so proud, as is this Marcius? Bru. He has no equal. Sic. When we were chosen tribunes for the people, Bru. Mark'd you his lip, and eyes? Sic. Nay, but his taunts. Bru. Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the gods. The present wars devour him! He is grown Too proud to be so valiant. Sic. Such a nature, Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder, His insolence can brook to be commanded Under Cominius. Bru. Fame, at the which he aims, In whom already he is well grac'd, cannot Sic. Besides, if things go well, Bru. Come; Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius, Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed, Sic. Let's hence, and hear How the despatch is made; and in what fashion, Bru. Let's along. [Exeunt. SCENE 11. An Apartment in CAIUS MARCIUS' House in Rome. Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA. Vol. I pray you, daughter, sing, or express yourself in a more comfortable sort: If my son were my husband, I would freely rejoice in that absence, wherein he won honour. When yet he was but tender bodied, and my only son; when youth with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way; when, for a day of king's entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding: I,-considering how honour would become such a person: that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir,-was pleas'd to let him seek danger, where he was like to find fame; to a cruel war I sent him; from whence he return'd, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man child, than now in first seeing he had prov'd himself a man. Vir. But had he died in the business, madam ? how then? Vol. Then his good report should have been my son. Hear me profess sincerely :-Had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius,-I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country, than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. Enter SERVILIA. Ser. Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. Methinks, I hear hither your husband's drum; Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood Enter SERVILIA and VALERIA. Val. My ladies both, good day to you! You are manifest housekeepers. How does your little son? [Exit SERVILIA, Vir. I thank your ladyship; Well, good madam. C |