The boy disdains me,
He leaves me, scorns me: briefly die their joys,
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplex'd?
Cym.
What would'st thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on?
speak,
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me
Than I to your highness; who, being born your
[vassal,
Am something nearer.
Cym.
Wherefore ey'st him so?
Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
Cyin.
And lend my best attention. What 's thy name?
Immo. Fidele, sir.
Cym.
Thou art my good youth, my page:
I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely.
[Cymbeline and Imogen converse apart.
Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd froin death?
Arv.
One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele :-What think you?
[forbear;
Gui. The same dead thing alive.
Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not;
Creatures may be alike: were 't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
Gui.
But we saw him dead.
Bel. Be silent; let 's see further.
Pis.
It is my mistress. [Aside.
Since she is living, let the time run on
To good, or bad.
[Cymbeline and Imogen come forward.
Cym.
Come, stand thou by our side;
Make thy demand aloud.-Sir, [to Iach.] step you
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; [forth;
Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall [him.
Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to
no. My boon is, that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.
Post.
What's that to him? [Aside.
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say
How came it yours?
Iach. Thou 'It torture me to leave unspoken that
Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.
Cym.
Fairness, which strikes the eye:
I stand on fire:
lach. All too soon I shall,
Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.-This Posthu
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover) took this hint;
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd, (therein
He was as calm as virtue,) he began
His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being
And then a mind put in 't, either our brags
Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description
Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
Cym.
Nay, nay, to the purpose.
Jach. Your daughter's chastity-there it begins.
He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams,
And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch!
Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him
Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design: Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd
That I return'd with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet,
(O, cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,-
Methinks, I see him now,-
Post. Ay, so thou dost, Coming forward. Italian fiend !-Ah me, most credulous fool, Egregious murderer, thief, any thing That's due to all the villains past, in being, To come!-0, give me cord, or knife, or poison, Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out For torturers ingenious: it is I That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend, By being worse than they. I am Posthumus, That kill thy daughter:-villain-like, I lie; How! me? That caus'd a lesser villain than myself, Jach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that A sacrilegious thief, to do 't :-the temple Which torments me to conceal. By villainy Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself. Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set I got this ring; it was Leonatus' jewel: Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may The dogs o' the street to bay me: every villain As it doth me,) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd [grieve thee Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus; and "Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my Be villainy less than 't was!--O Imogen! Cym. All that belongs to this. flord? My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, That paragon, thy daughter, Imogen, Imogen! For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits Imo. Peace, my lord; hear, hear! [page, Quail to remember,-Give me leave; I faint. Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful [Striking her: she falls. Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy There lie thy part. Pis. strength: O, gentlemen, help Mine, and your mistress :-0, my lord Posthumus! You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now:-Help, help!Mine honour'd lady!
I had rather thou should'st live while nature will,
Than die ere I hear more: strive, man, and speak.
lach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd
The mansion where !) 't was at a feast, (O 'would
Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least,
Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthumus,
(What should I say? he was too good, to be
Where ill men were; and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones,) sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving,
Does the world go round! Post. How come these staggers on me?
Wake, my mistress! Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike we To death with mortal joy.
How fares my
Imo. O, get thee from my sight;
Thou gav'st me poison: dangerous fellow, hence!
Breathie not where princes are!
Cym.
The tune of Imogen! Pis. Laly,
The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if
That box I gave you was not thought by me
A precious thing; I had it from the queen.
Cym. New matter still?
Imo.
Cor. O gods-
I left out one thing which the queen confess'd,
Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio
Have, said she, given his mistress that confection
Which I gave him for cordial, she is serv'd
As I would serve a rat.
Сут.
What 's this, Cornelius?
Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importun'd me
To temper poisons for her; still pretending
The satisfaction of her knowledge only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs
Of no esteem: 1, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease
The present power of life; but, in short time,
All offices of nature should again
Do their due functions.-Have you ta'en of it?
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.
'Bel.
My boys,
There was our error. Gui. This is sure, Fidele.
Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from
Think that you are upon a rock, and now [you?
Throw me again.
[Embracing him.
Post.
Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Till the tree die!
Cym.
How now, my flesh, my child?
What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?
Imo.
Your blessing, sir. [Kneeling. Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame ye You had a motive for it. [not; [To Guiderius and Arviragus. My tears, that fall,
Prove holy water on thee! Imogen,
Thy mother's dead.
Imo.
I am sorry for 't, my lord.
Cym. O, she was naught; and long of her it was
That we meet here so strangely: But her son
Is gone, we know not how, nor where.
Pis.
My lord,
Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Cloten,
Upon my lady's missing, came to me [swore
With his sword drawn; foam'd at the mouth, and
If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
It was my instant death: By accident,
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket; which directed him
To seek her on the mountains near to Milford;
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
Which he inforc'd from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate
My lady's honour: what became of him,
1 further know not.
Gui.
Marry, the gods forefend!
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence: prithee, valiant youth,
Deny 't again.
Gui.
I have spoke it, and I did it.
Cym. He was a prince.
Gui. A most incivil one: The wrongs he did me
Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea,
If it could so roar to me: I cut off 's head;
And am right glad he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.
Cym.
By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must
Endure our law: Thou art dead.
Imo.
I thought had been my lord. Cym.
That headless man Bind the offender,
And take him from our presence. Bel.
This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself; and hath
More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for.-Let his arins alone;
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First pay me for the nursing of thy sons;
And let it be confiscate all, so soon
As I have receiv'd it. Cym. Nursing of my sons?
Bel. I am too blunt and saucy: Here's my knee;
Ere I arise I will prefer my sons;
Then, spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
These two young gentlemen, that call me father,
And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
And blood of your begetting.
Cym.
How! my issue?
Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd:
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd
Was all the harin I did. These gentle princes
(For such and so they are) these twenty years
Have I train'd up: those arts they have, as I
Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment: I mov'd her to 't;
Having receiv'd the punishment before,
For that which I did then: Beaten for loyalty,
Excited me to treason: Their dear loss,
The more of you 't was felt, the more it shap'd
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world:
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.
Сут.
Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service, that you three have done, is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
Be pleas'd awhile. This gentleman, whom I call Polydore, Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius: This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragu, Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand Of his queen mother, which, for more probation, I can with ease produce. Cym. Guiderius lad Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star; It was a mark of wonder. Bel. This is he; Who hath upon him still that natural stamp: It was wise Nature's end in the donation, To be his evidence now.
Cym. O, what, am I A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother Rejoic'd deliverance more:-Bless'd pray you be, That, after this strange starting from your orbs, You may reign in them now!--O Imogen, Thou hast lost by this a kingdom. Imo.
No, my lord; I have got two worlds by 't.-O my gentle brothers, Have we thus met? O never say hereafter But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother, When I was but your sister; I you brothers, When you were so indeed.
Aru. Ay, my good lord.
Gui.
And at first meeting lov'd;
Continued so, until we thought he died.
Cor. By the queen's drain she swallow'd.
Cym.
O rare instinct !
When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridg
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which [ment
Distinction should be rich in.-Where, how liv'd you,
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded;
And all the other by-dependencies,
From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor place,
Will serve our long inter'g
gatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
Thou art my brother: So we 'll hold thee ever.
[To Belarius.
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve me,
To see this gracious season.
Cym.
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.
Imo.
I will yet do you service.
Luc.
My good master, Happy be you!
Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought, He would have well becom'd this place, and grac'd The thankings of a king. Post. I am, sir, The soldier that did company these three In poor beseeming; 't was a fitment for The purpose I then follow'd:-That I was he, Speak, Tachimo: I had you down, and might Have made you finish. Iach. I am down again: [Kneeling. But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you, Which I so often owe: but, your ring first; And here the bracelet of the truest princess, That ever swore her faith.
The power that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you: Live, And deal with others better.
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law; Pardon 's the word to all.
You holp, us, sir, As you did mean indeed to be our brother; Joy'd are we that you are. Post. Your servant, princes.--Cood my lord
Call forth your soothsayer: As I slept, methought,
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred: when I wak'd, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it; let him show
His skill in the construction.
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Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much :
The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
[To Cymbeline.
Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer
We term it mulier: which mulier I divine
Is this most constant wife: who, even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
With this most tender air.
This hath some seeming.
Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point
Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen,
For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty. Cym. Well,
My peace we will begin :-And, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar,
And to the Roman empire; promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked
queen:
Whom heavens, in justice, (both on her, and hers,)
Have laid most heavy hand.
Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
Is full accomplish'd: For the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
So vanish'd which foreshow'd our princely eagle,
The imperial Caesar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.
Cym.
Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our bless'd altars! Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward: Let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud's town march;
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we 'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
Set on there;-Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace.
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS,
generals against the Volsces.
TULLUS AUFIDIUS, general of gilia. the Volsces. Lieutenant to Aufidius. Conspirators with Aufidius. MENENIUS AGRIPPA, friend to A Citizen of Antium.
Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Adiles, Licters, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.
SCENE.-Partly in ROME; and partly in the territories of the VOLSCIANS and ANTIATES.
SCENE I.-Rome. A Street. Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons.
1 Cit. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
[Several speaking at once. 1 Cit. You are all resolved rather to die than to Cit. Resolved, resolved.
[famish? 1 Cit. First, you know, Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.
Cit. We know 't, we know 't.
1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we 'll have corn at our own price. Is 't a verdict?
Cit. No more talking on 't: let it be done away, 2 Cit. One word, good citizens. [away! I Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good: What authority surfeits on would relieve us. If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them.-Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know, I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.
2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? [commonalty. All. Against him first; he 's a very dog to the 2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country?
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 speak not maliciously. Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously he did it to that end; though soft-conscienced men can be content to say it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly 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 say he is
1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o' the city is risen: Why stay we prating here? to the Capitol! All. Come, come.
1 Cit. Soft! who comes here!
Enter Menenius Agrippa.
Men. What work 's, my countrymen, in hand?
Where go you
I cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their
storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for
usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any whole-
some act established against the rich; and provide
more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and re-
strain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they
will; and there 's all the love they bear us.
Men. Either you must
Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,
Or be accus'd of folly. I shall tell you
A pretty tale; it may be you have heard it;
But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To stale 't a little more.
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 mem-
Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it :- [bers
That only like a gulf it did remain
I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive,
Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing [ments
Like labour with the rest; where the other instru-
Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And mutually participate; did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered,-
2 Cit. Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
Men. Sir, I shall tell you.-With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus,
(For, look you, I may make the belly smile
As well as speak,) it tauntingly replied
To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
As you malign our senators, for that
They are not such as you.
2 Cit.
Your belly's answer: What!
The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabric, if that they-
Men.
What then?-
'Fore me, this fellow speaks !-what then? what
then?
2 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,
Who is the sink o' the body,-
Men.
Well, what then?
2 Cit. The former agents, if they did complain,
What could the belly answer?
Men.
I will tell you;
If you 'll bestow a small (of what you have little)
Patience a while, you 'll hear the belly's answer.
2 Cit. You 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.
True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he,
That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon: and fit it is;
Because I am the storehouse, and the shop
Of the whole body: But if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,
[you. With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray 2 Cit. Our business is not unknown to the senate; Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain, they have had inkling, this fortnight, what we intend And through the cranks and offices of man: to do, which now we 'll show 'em in deeds. They The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins, say poor suitors have strong breaths; they shall From me receive that natural competency know we have strong arms too. Whereby they live: And though that all at once, Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest You, my good friends,' (this says the belly,) mark Will you undo yourselves? [neighbours, 2 Cit. Ay, sir; well, well. [me,'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 flour of all, And leave me but the bran.' What say you to 't? 2 Cit. It was an answer: How apply you this? Men. The senators of Rome are this good belly, And you the mutinous members: For examine Their counsels and their cares; digest things rightly,
2 Cit. We cannot, sir, we are undone already.
Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care
Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your staves, as lift them
Against the Roman state; whose course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong link asunder than can ever
Appear in your impediment: For the dearth,
The gods, not the patricians, make it; and
Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
You are transported by calamity
Thither where more attends you; and you slander
The helms o' the state, who care for you like
When you curse them as enemies.
Touching the weal o' the common; you shall find,
No public benefit, which you receive,
But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you, And no way from yourselves.-What do you think? [fathers, You, the great toe of this assembly?2 Cit. Care for us!-True, indeed!-They ne'er] 2 Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe!
Men. For that, being one o' the lowest, basest,
Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost:
Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
Lead'st first, to win some vantage.-
But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs;
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle, [cius!
The one side must have bale.-Hail, noble Mar-
Enter Caius Marcius.
Mar. Thanks. - 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
[curs,
Beneath abhorring.-What would you have, you
That like nor peace, nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes your proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he should find you lions finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: You are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,
To make him worthy whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves
greatness
Deserves your hate: and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favour swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! trust
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 mat-
That in these several places of the city
You cry against the noble senate, who,
Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
Would feed on one another?-What 's their seek-
ing?
Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, they
The city is well stor'd.
[say,
Mar.
Hang 'em! They say !
They 'll sit by the fire, 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,
And feebling such as stand not in their liking
Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's grain
Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, [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."
[suaded;
Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly per-
For though abundantly they lack discretion,
Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
What says the other troop?
Mar.
They are dissolved: Hang 'em!
They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forthi pro-
verbs,
That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
That meat was made for mouths, that the gods
Corn for the rich man only:-With these shreds They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,
And a petition granted them, a strange one,
(To break the heart of generosity,
[caps
And make bold power look pale,) they threw their
As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,
Shouting their emulation.
Men.
What is granted them?
Mar. Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wis-
Of their own choice: One's Junius Brutus, [doms,
Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath!
The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
Ere so prevail'd with me; it will in time
Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes
For insurrection's arguing.
Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments!
Enter a Messenger, hustily.
Mess. Where 's Caius Marcius?
Mar.
Mess. The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.
Mar. I am glad on 't; then we shall have means
Here: What 's the matter!
Our musty superfluity :-See, our best elders.
Enter Cominius, Titus Lartius, and other Sena-
tors; Junius Brutus, and Sicinius Velutus.
1 Sen. Marcius, 't is true that you have lately told
The Volsces are in arms.
[us;
Mar.
They have a leader,
Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't,
I sin in envying his nobility:
And were I anything but what I am,
I would wish me only he.
Com.
You have fought together.
Mar. Were half to half the world by the ears, and
Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make
[he
Only my wars with him: he is a lion
That I am proud to hunt.
I Sen.
Then, worthy Marcius,
Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
Com. It is your former promise.
Mar.
And I am constant.-Titus Lartius, thou
Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face:
What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?
Tit.
No, Caius Marcius;
I'll lean upon one crutch, and fight with t' other,
Ere stay behind this business.
Men.
1 Sen. Your company to the Our greatest friends attend us.
O, true bred! Capitol: where, I [know, Lead you on: Follow, Cominius: we must follow you; Right worthy you priority. Com. Noble Marcius! 1 Sen. Hence! To your homes, be gone.
[To the Citizens. Mar. Nay, let them follow: The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither, To gnaw their garners:-Worshipful mutineers, Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.
[Exeunt Senators, Com., Mar., Tit., and Menen. Citizens steal away. Sic. Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? Bru. He has no equal.
Sic. When we were chosen tribunes for the people,Bru. Mark'd you his lip and eyes? Sic. Nay, but his taunts. Bru. Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the Sic. Be-mock the modest moon. [gods. Bru. The present wars devour him: he is grown Too proud to be so valiant. Sic. Such a nature, Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow Which he treads on at noon: But I do wonder His insolence can brook to be commanded Under Cominius.
Fame, at the which he aims, In whom already he is well grac'd, cannot Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by A place below the first: for what miscarries Shall be the general's fault, though he perform To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure Will then cry out of Marcius, O, if he Had borne the business!' Sic. Besides, if things go well, Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall Of his demerits rob Cominius. Bru. Come: Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius, Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed, In aught he merit not. Sic. Let's hence, and hear How the despatch is made; and in what fashion, More than in singularity, he goes Upon this present action. Bru.
Let's along. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Corioli. The Senate-House.
Enter Tullus Aufidius, and certain Senators.
1 Sen. So, your opinion is, Aufidius,
That they of Rome are enter'd in our counsels,
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