On like conditions will have counter-seal'd. SCENE IV. Rome. A Public Place. Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS. [Exeunt. Men. See you yond' coign o' the Capitol; yond' cornerstene?. Sic. Why, what of that? Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him: but I say, there is no hope in 't. Our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution. Sic. Is 't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man? Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He loved his mother dearly. Men. So did he me; and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding: he wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in. Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us! Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them; and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house. Sic. Enter another Messenger. What's the news? Mess. Good news, good news! The ladies have prevail'd, The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone. A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, Sic. Friend, Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? [Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums beaten, The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Men. [Shouting again. This is good news. I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia A sea and land-full. You have pray'd well to-day: I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! [Shouting and Music. Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings: next, Accept my thankfulness. Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Patricians, and People. They pass over the Stage. 1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them. Repeal him with the welcome of his mother: Cry, Welcome, ladies, welcome: All. Welcome! Welcome, ladies! [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Antium. A Public Place. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here. [Exeunt Attendants. Enter Three or Four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' Faction. Most welcome! Even so, 1 Con. How is it with our general? 2 Con. Most noble Sir, If you do hold the same intent, You wish'd us parties, we 'll deliver you Of your great danger. Sir, I cannot tell: We must proceed, as we do find the people. 3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst "Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all. Auf. I know it; A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd When he did stand for consul, which he lost Auf. 1 Con. So he did, my lord; The army marvell'd at it; and, in the last, Auf. There was it; For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. 1 Con. But, hark! [Drums and Trumpets sound, with great Shouts of the People. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, 2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear 3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body. Auf. Here come the lords. Say no more. Enter the Lords of the City. I have not deserv'd it. Lords. You are most welcome home. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd Lords. 1 Lord. We have. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think, Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him. |