In Italy, and her confederate arms, [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Rome, Enter Menenius and Sicinius. Men. See you yond'coin o'th' Capitol, yond' corner stone? 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 sentenc'd, and stay upon execution. Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man? Men. There is difference between a grub and a but. terfly, yet your butterfly was a grub; this Martius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings, he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He lov'd his mother dearly. Men. So did he me ; and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight years old horse. The tartness of his face fours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground fhrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corset 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 finish'd 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 tyger ; that shall our poor city find; and all this is long of you. Sic. The Gods be good unto us! When we banih'd him, we respected not them: and he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. Enter a Mefinger. They'11 us. 2 They'll give him death by inches.. Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the news ? Mes. Good news, good news, the ladies have prevailid, Sic. Friend, Mes. As certain as I know the sun is fire : [Trumpets, Hautboys, Drums beat, all together. The trumpets, fackbuts, pfalteries and fifes, Tabors and cymbals, and the shouting Romans Make the fun dance. Hark you. [A fout wiibin, Men. This is good news : I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia Is worth of Consuls, Senators, Patricians, A city full: of Tribunes, such as you, A sea and land full. You've pray'd well to-day : This morning, for ten thousand of your throats I'd not have given a doit. Hark how they joy. [Sound fill with the fouts. Sic. Firft, the Gods bless you for your tidings! next; Accept my thankfulness. Mef. Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks. Sic. They're near the city ? Mes. Almost at point to enter. Sic. We'll meet them, and help the joy. [Exeunt. Enter two Senators zvirb the Ladies palling over the fage, with other Lords. Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome : Call all your tribes together, praise the Gods, And make triumphant fires : Etrew flowers before them : Unfhout the noise that banishid Martius; Repeal him with the welcome of his mother : Cry, Welcome, Ladies, welcome ! All. Welcome, Ladies, welcome! [Exeunt. (A flourish with drums and trumpets. SCEN E V. Antium. Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants. Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius's faction, I Con. How is it with our General ? Auf. Even so, 2 Con. Most noble Sir, If y you do hold the same intent, wherein You wilh'd us parties ; we'll deliver you Of your great danger. Auf. Sir, I cannot tell ; We must proceed as we do find the people. 3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilft 'Twixt you there's difference ; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all, Auf. I know it ; 3 Con. His stoutness, Sir, Auf. That I would have spoke of: Presented Presented to my knife his throat ; I took him, i Con. So he did, my Lord : Auf. There was it : him : [Drums and trumpers found, with great shouts of the people. i con. Your native town you enter'd like a port, And had no welcomes home, but he returns Splitting the air with noise. 2 Con. And patient fools, 3 Con. Therefore at your vantage, Auf. Say no more, Enter the Lords of the Ciry. Auf. I have not deserv’d it. What What I have written ? All. We have. i Lord. And grieve to hear it. SCENE VI. Commons being with him, ! We have compounded on. Auf. Read it not, noble Lords : Cor. Traitor! - how now! 3 Breaking |