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

1 Cit. I fay unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end; though foft-confcienc'd men can be content to fay it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and partly to be 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 fay he is covetous.

1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accufations; he hath faults, with furplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What fhouts are thofe? the other fide o'th' city is rifen; why ftay we prating here? to th' Capitol

All. Come, come. 1 Cit. Soft

who comes here?

SCENE II. Enter Menenius Agrippa,

2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always lov'd the people.

1 Cit. He's one honeft enough; would all the reft were fo! Men. What work's my countrymen, in hand? where go you with your bats and clubs ? the matter-fpeak, I pray you.

2 Cit. Our business is not unknown to the fenate; they have had inkling, this fortnight, what we intend to do, which now we'll fhew 'em in deeds: they fay, poor fuitors have ftrong breaths; they fhall know we have ftrong

arms too.

Men. Why, mafters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, will you undo your felves?

2 Cit. We cannot, Sir, we are undone already.
Men. I tell you, friends, moft charitable care
Have the Patricians of you: For your wants,
Your fufferings in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your ftayes, as lift them
Against the Roman ftate; whofe course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong links afunder, than can ever
Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
The Gods, not the Patricians, make it; and
Your knees to them, not arms muft help. Alack,

You

You are tranfported by calamity

Thither, where more attends you; and you flander
The helms o'th' ftate, who care for you, like fathers,
When you curfe them as enemies.

2 Cit. Care for us? -true indeed! they ne'er car'd for us yet. Suffer us to famiflt, and their ftore-houses cramm'd with grain: make edicts for ufury, to support ufurers; repeal daily any wholefome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing ftatutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not op, they will, and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confefs your felves wond'rous malicious,
Or be accus'd of folly. I fhall tell you
A pretty tale; it may be you have heard it;
But fince it ferves my purpofe, I will venture
To ftale't a little more.

2 Cit. Well,

We'll hear it, Sir, but yet you must not think
To fob off our difgraces 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'th' midft o'th' body, idle and unactive,

Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

Like labour with the reft; where th' other inftruments
Did fee, and hear, devife, inftru&t, walk, feel,
And mutually participate, did minister ‹
Unto the appetite, and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answer'd

2 Cit. Well, Sir, what answer made the belly?
Men. Sir, I fhall tell you: with a kind of fmile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-
(For look you, I may make the belly smile,
As well as fpeak) it tauntingly reply'd

To the difcontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his reccit; even fo moft fitly,
As you malign our fenators, for that

They are not fuch as you

G 2

2 Cite

what?

2 Cit. Your belly's answer-
The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counsellor heart, the arm our foldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter;
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabrick, if that they.

Men. What then? -for me this fellow fpeaks.
What then? what then?

2 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be reftrain'd, Who is the fink o'th' body

Men. Well, what then?

2 Cit. The former agents, if they did complain, What could the belly anfwer?

Men. I will tell you.

If you'll beftow a small (of what you have little) Patience, a while; you'll hear the belly's answer. 2 Cit. Y'are long about it.

Men. Note me this, good friend;
Your moft grave belly was deliberate,

Not rafh, like his accufers, and thus answer'd ;
True is it, my incorporate friends, quoth he,
That I receive the general food at firft
Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
Because I am the ftore-house, and the shop
Of the whole body. But if you do remember,
I fend it through the rivers of your blood
Even to the Court the heart, to th' feat o' th' 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 fays the belly) mark me-
2 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 flow'r of all,

And leave me but the bran. What fay you to't?
2 Cit. It was an answer--how apply you this?
Men, The fenators of Rome are this good belly,

And

And you the mutinous members; for examine
Their counfels, and their cares; digeft things rightly,
Touching the weal o'th' common, you fhall find
No publick benefit which you receive,

But it proceeds or comes from them to you,

And no way from your felves. What do you think?
You, the great toe of this affembly?

2 Cit. I the great toe! why the great toe?

Men. For that being one o'th' loweft, bafeft, poorest
Of this most wife rebellion, thou goeft foremost:
Thou rafcal, that art firft from blows to run,
Lead'At first to win fome vantage. -

But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs,
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle:
The one fide must have bane.

SCENE III.

Hail, noble Martius!

Enter Caius Martius.

Mar. Thanks. What's the matter, you diffentious rogues, That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,

Make your felves fcabs ?

2 Cit. We have ever your good word.

Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter Beneath abhorring. What would you have, ye curs, That like not peace, nor war? The one affrights you, The other makes you proud. He that trufts to you, Where he should find you lions, finds you hares: Where foxes, geefe you are: no furer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the fun. Your virtue is,

To make him worthy, whofe offence fubdues him,
And curfe that juftice did it. Who deferves greatness,
Deferves your hate; and your affections are

A fick man's appetite, who defires moít that

Which would encreafe his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, fwims with fins of lead,"

And hews down oaks with rufhes. 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 the feveral places of the city

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You cry against the noble Senate, who

(Under the Gods) keep you in awe, which elfe

Would feed on one another?

- What's their feeking? Men. For corn at their own rates, whereof, they say,

The city is well ftor'd.

Mar. Hang 'em: they fay!

They'll fit by th' fire, and prefume to know
What's done i'th' Capitol; who's like to rise,
And who declines: fide factions, and give out
Conjectural marriages; making parties ftrong,
And feebling fuch as ftand not in their liking,
Below their cobbled fhoes. They fay there's grain
Enough! would the Nobility lay afide

Their ruth, and let me ufe my fword, I'd make
A quarry with thousands of these quarter'd flaves,
As high as I could pitch my lance.

Men. Nay, these

Are almost thoroughly perfuaded: for
Although abundantly they lack difcretion,

Yet are they paffing cowardly. I beseech you,
What fays the other troop?

Mar. They are diffolv'd;

They faid they were an hungry,
That bunger broke ftone walls
That meat was made for mouths
Corn for the rich men only.
They vented their complainings;

figh'd forth proverbs;

that dogs muft eat.

that the Gods fent not With these shreds which being answer'd,

And a petition granted them, a strange one,
To break the heart of generofity,

And make bold power look pale; they threw their caps
As they would hang them on the horns o'th' moon,
Shouting their emulation.

Men. What is granted?

Mar. Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
Of their own choice. One of them's Junius Brutus,
Sicinius Velutus, and I know not s'death!
The rabble fhould have first unroof'd the city
Ere fo prevail'd with me: it will in time

Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes
For infurrection's arguing.

Men.