But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.3 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; stay upon execution.] i. e. stay but for it. 4 He sits in his state, &c.] His state means his chair of state. The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, Sic. Enter another Messenger. What's the news? Mess. Good news, good news;-The ladies have prevail'd, The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone: Sic.. Friend, Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? you; [Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again. 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 have pray'd well to-day; This morning, for ten thousand of your throats I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! [Shouting and Musick. Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings: next, Accept my thankfulness. Mess. Sir, we have all Great cause to give great thanks. 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 : Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, All. Welcome! Welcome, ladies! [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. SCENE V. Antium. A publick Place. [Exeunt. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse, The city ports by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants. Enter Three or Four Conspirators of Aufidius' Most welcome! Faction. Even so, 1 Con. How is it with our general? 2 Con. Most noble sir, Auf 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. A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd When he did stand for consul, which he lost 5 I seem'd his follower, not partner; and 1 Con. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd For no less spoil, than glory, Auf. There was it ; For which my sinews shall be stretch'd' upon him. At a few drops of women's rheum, which are As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour Of our great action; Therefore shall he die, And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! [Drums and Trumpets sound, with great Shouts of the People. 1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise. 2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear, With giving him glory. 3 Con. After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury Auf. Here come the lords. Say no more; Enter the Lords of the City. Lords. You are most welcome home. He wag'd me with his countenance,] This is obscure. The meaning, I think, is, he prescribed to me with an air of autho rity, and gave me his countenance for my wages; thought me sufficiently rewarded with good looks. JOHNSON. For which my sinews shall be stretch'd-] This is the point on which I will attack him with my utmost abilities. 6 |