2 Cit. One word, good citizens.

1 Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patrieians, good: What authority surfeits on, would relieve us; If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess, they relieved us humanely; but they think, we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them.-Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know, I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius

Marcius?

Cit. Against him first; he's a very dog to the commonalty.

2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country?

1 Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for't, but that he pays himself with being proud.

2 Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

1 Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, be content to say, it was for his country, he did it to he did it to that end: though soft conscienc'd men can please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

2 Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him: You must in no way say, he is

covetous.

1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o'the city is risen: Why stay we prating here? to the capitol.

Cit. Come, come.

1 Cit. Soft; who comes here?

Enter Menenius Agrippa.

2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.

1 Cit. He's one honest enough; 'Would all the rest were so!

Men. What works, my countrymen, in hand?

The gods, not the patricians, make it; and
Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
You are transported by calamity

Thither where more attends you; and you slander
The helms o'the state, who care for you like fathers,
When you curse them as enemies.

1 Cit. Care for us!-True, indeed!-They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich; and provide more pierc ing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confess yourselves wondrous malicious

Or be accus'd of folly. I shall tell you

A pretty tale; it may be, you have heard it;
But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To scale 't a little more.

1 Cit. Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an't please you, deliver.

Men. There was a time, when all the body's mem⚫bers

Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it :-
That only like a gulf it did remain

I' the midst o'the body, idle and inactive,

Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

Like labour with the rest; where the other instruments
Did see, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered,-

1 Cit. Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
Men. Sir, I shall tell you.-With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus,
(For, look you, I may make the belly smile,
As well as speak,) it tauntingly replied
To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
As you malign our senators, for that

They are not such as you.

If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little,)
Patience, a while, you'll hear the belly's answer.
1 Cit. You are long about it.
Men.
Note me this, good friend;
Your most grave belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd.
True is it, my incorporate friends, quoth he,
That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon and fit it is;
Because I am the store-house, and the shop
Of the whole body: But if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,
Even to the court, the heart,-to the scat a'the brain;

And, through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins,
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live: And though that all at once,
You, my good friends, (this says the belly,) mark me,-
Cit. Ay, sir; well, well.

Men.

Though all at once cannot
See what I do deliver out to each;
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flower of all,
And leave me but the bran. What say you to't?
1 Cit. It was an answer: How apply you this?
Men. The senators of Rome are this good belly,
And you the mutinous members: For examine
Their counsels, and their cares; digest things rightly,
Touching the weal o'the common; you shall find,
No public benefit which you receive,

But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you,
And no way from yourselves.-What do you think?
You, the great toe of this assembly?--

Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe?

Men. For that, being one o'the lowest, basest, poor

est,

Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost:
Thou rascal, that art worst in blood, to run
Lead'st first to win some 'vantage.-

But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs;
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle,

The one side must have bale.-Hail, noble Marcius!

Enter Caius Marcius.

Mar. Thanks.-What's the matter, you dissentious

rogues,

That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, Make yourselves scabs?

1 Cit.

We have ever your good word, Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter

Beneath abhorring.-What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace, nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: You are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness,
Deserves your hate: and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind;
And call him noble, that was now your hate,
Him vile, that was your garland. What's the matter,
That in these several places of the city

You cry against the noble senate, who,

Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else Would feed on one another?-What's their seeking 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 What's done i'the capitol: who's like to rise,

Who thrives, and who declines: side factions, and

[To the Citizens) Nay, let them follow:

The Volces have much corn; fake these rats thither, To gnaw their garners:-Worshipful mutineers, Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.

[Exeunt Senators, Cominius, Marcius, Titus and Menenius. Citizens steal away. 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.
Sic. Be-mock the modest moon.

Bru. 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 which he aims,In whom already he is well grac'd,-cannot Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by A place below the first; for what miscarries Shall be the general's fault, though he perform To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure Will then cry out of Marcius, 0, if he Had borne the business!

Is it not yours?

[Reads

Auf. What ever hath been thought on in this state, That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome Had circumvention? "Tis not four days gone, Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think, I have the letter here; yes, here it is: They have press'd a power, but it is not known Whether for east, or west: The dearth is great ; The people mutinous : and it is rumour'd, Cominius, Marcius your old enemy, (Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,) And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, These three lead on this preparation Whither 'tis bent: most likely, 'tis for you: Consider of it.