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 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 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 banish'd him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. Enter a Messenger. Mes. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house: The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the news? Mes. Good news, good news;-The ladies have prevail'd, The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone: Friend, Sic. Art thou certain, this is true? is it most certain? Mes. As certain, as I know the sun is fire: Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an arch so hurry'd the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you; [Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Men. [Shouting again. This is good news: I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia 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 your tidings: Mes. Almost at point to enter. Sic. And help the joy. We will meet them, [Going. 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, Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; All. Welcome! Welcome, ladies! [A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt. SCENE V. ANTIUM. A PUBLICK PLACE. 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 То purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants. Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius' faction. Most welcome! 1 Con. How is it with our general? Auf. Even so, As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, And with his charity slain. 2 Con. Most noble sir, If you do hold the same intent wherein Auf. Sir, I cannot tell; We must proceed, as we do find the people. 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 He bow'd his nature, never known before When he did stand for consul, which he lost Auf. That I would have spoke of: Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way In all his own desires; nay, let him choose Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, 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. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, |