2 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 members 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 unactive, Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing Like labour with the rest; where th' other instruments 2 Cit. Well, Sir, what answer made the belly? T' the discontented members, the mutinous parts As you malign our senators, for that They are not such as you. Your belly's answer? What! 2 Cit. In this our fabric, if that they Men. 'Fore me, this fellow speaks! - What then? what then? what then? 2 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, Who is the sink o' the body, If you 'll bestow a small (of what you have little) 2 Cit. Y' 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: - Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain; Whereby they live. And though that all at once, Men. "Though all at once cannot See what I do deliver out to each, 2 Cit. It was an answer. What say you to 't? Men. The senators of Rome are this good belly, No public benefit which you receive, But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you, And no way from yourselves. What do you think? 2 Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe? Men. For that being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest, Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, 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! Mar. Thanks. Enter CAIUS MARCIUS. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, Make yourselves scabs? 2 Cit. We have ever your good word. Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter That like nor peace, nor war? the one affrights you; Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him, A sick man's appetite, who desires most that Hang ye! Trust ye? Him vile, that was your garland. What's the matter, 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. They'll sit by the fire, Hang 'em! They say? and presume to know What's done i' the Capitol; who 's like to rise, Who thrives, and who declines; side factions, and give out Conjectural marriages; making parties strong, Below their cobbled shoes. They say, there's grain enough? And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high As I could pick my lance. Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, Mar. They vented their complainings; which being answer'd (To break the heart of generosity, And make bold power look pale) they threw their caps Men. What is granted them? Mar. Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar wisdoms; Sicinius Velutus, and I know not - 'Sdeath! Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes Mar. Go; get you home, you fragments! Enter a Messenger. Here. Mess. Where 's Caius Marcius? Mae. What 's the matter? Mess. The news is, Sir, the Volsces are in arms. Mar. I am glad on 't: then, we shall have means to vent Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders. Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS, and SICINIUS VELUTUS. 1 Sen. Marcius, 't is true, that you have lately told us; The Volsces are in arms. They have a leader, Mar. And were I any thing but what I am, I would wish me only he. Com. You have fought together. Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make Only my wars with him: he is a lion That I am proud to hunt. 1 Sen. Attend upon Cominius to these wars. Then, worthy Marcius, Sir, it is; Com. It is your former promise. Tit. and he No, Caius Marcius; I'll lean upon one crutch, and fight with the other, Men. O, true bred! 1 Sen. Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, Our greatest friends attend us. Tit. Lead you on: Follow, Cominius; we must follow you; Com. Noble Marcius! [To the Citizens. Nay, let them follow. 1 Sen. Hence! To your homes! be gone. Mar. The Volsces have much corn: take these rats thither, |