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To make him worthy, whofe offence fubdues him, And curse that juftice, did it. Who deferves Greatnefs,
Deferves your Hate; and your affections are
Him vile, that was your garland. What's the matter,
You cry against the noble Senate, who
Men. For corn at their own rates, whereof, they fay, The City is well ftor'd.
Mar. Hang 'em they fay!
They'll fit by th' fire, and prefume to know
Conjectural marriages; making parties ftrong,
Would the Nobility lay afide their ruth,
Men. Nay, thefe are almost thoroughly perfuaded:
Mar. They are diffolv'd; hang 'em,
They faid they were an hungry, figh'd forth Proverbs;
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 them?
Mar. Five Tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus, Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-s'death, The rabble should have firft 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. This is ftrange.
Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments!
Enter a Meffenger.
Mef. Where's Caius Marcius?
Mar. Here what's the matter?
Mef. The news is, Sir, the Volfcians are in arms. Mar. I'm glad on't, then we shall have means to vent Our musty fuperfluity. See, our beft Elders!
Enter Sicinius Velutus, Junius Brutus, Cominius, Titus Lartius, with other Senators.
I Sen. Marcius, 'tis true, that you have lately told us, The Volfcians are in arms.
Mar. They have a Leader,
Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't.
And were I any thing but what I am,
Com. You have fought together?
Mar. Were half to half the world by th' ears, and he Upon my Party, I'd revolt, to make 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. Gom. It is your former promife.
Mar. Sir, it is;
And I am conftant: Titus Lartius, thou
Shalt fee me once more ftrike at Tullus' face.
Tit. No, Caius Marcius,
I'll lean upon one crutch, and fight with t'other;
Men. O true bred!
1 Sen. Your company to th' Capitol; where, I know, Our greatest Friends attend us.
Tit. Lead you on;
Follow, Cominius; we must follow you;
1 Sen. Hence to your homes
[To the Citizens.
Mar. Nay, let them follow; The Volfcians have much Corn: take these rats thither, To gnaw their garners. Worshipful Mutineers, Your valour puts well forth; pray, follow.
[Exeunt. [Citizens fteal away. Manent Sicinius and Brutus. Sic. Was ever man fo proud, as is this Marcius? Bru. He has no equal.
Sic. When we were chofen Tribunes for the People-
Bru. Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the
Sic. Be-mock the modeft Moon,
Bru. (4) The prefent Wars devour him; he is grown Too proud to be so valiant.
(4) The prefent Wars devour him; he is grown
Too proud to be fo valiant.] This is very obfcurely exprefs'd; but the Poet's Meaning muft certainly be This. Marcius is fo confcious of, and fo elate upon, the Notion of his own Valour, that he is eaten up with Pride; devour'd with the Apprehenfions of That Glory which he promises himself from the enfueing War. A Sentiment, like This, occurs again in Troilus and Creffida.
He, that is proud, eats up himself. Pride is his own Glass, his own Trumpet, his own Chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the Deed, devours the Deed in the Praife.
Sic. Such a nature,
Tickled with good fuccefs, difdains the fhadow
Bru. Fame, at the which he aims,
Sic. Befides, if things go well,
Opinion, that fo fticks on Marcius, fhall
Half all Cominius' Honours are to Marcius,
Sic. Let's hence, and hear
How the dispatch is made; and in what fashion,
SCENE changes to Corioli.
Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Senators of Corioli.
1 Sen. O, your opinion is, Aufidius,
That they of Rome are entred in our Counfels,
And know how we proceed.
Auf. Is it not yours?
What ever hath been thought on in this State,
I have the letter here; yes-here it is;
"Whether for Eaft or Weft; the Dearth is great,
I Sen. Our Army's in the Field :
We never yet made doubt, but Rome was ready
Auf. Nor did you think it folly
To keep your great pretences veil'd, 'till when
It feem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery,
2 Sen. Noble Aufidius,
Take your Commiffion, hie you to your bands;
If they fet down before's, for the Remove
Auf. O, doubt not That,
I fpeak from certainties. Nay more,
Some parcels of their Power are forth already,
All. The Gods affift you!
Auf. And keep your Honours fafe!
I Sen. Farewel.
2 Sen. Farewel.