text
stringlengths
1
3.08k
I thought to crush him in an equal force,
True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way,
Or wrath or craft may get him.
FIRST SOLDIER. He's the devil.
AUFIDIUS. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
With only suff'ring stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself. Nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' city;
Learn how 'tis held, and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome.
FIRST SOLDIER. Will not you go?
AUFIDIUS. I am attended at the cypress grove; I pray you-
'Tis south the city mills- bring me word thither
How the world goes, that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey.
FIRST SOLDIER. I shall, sir. Exeunt
<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM
SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS
PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE
DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS
PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED
COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>
ACT II. SCENE I.
Rome. A public place
Enter MENENIUS, with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS
MENENIUS. The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight.
BRUTUS. Good or bad?
MENENIUS. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love
not Marcius.
SICINIUS. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
MENENIUS. Pray you, who does the wolf love?
SICINIUS. The lamb.
MENENIUS. Ay, to devour him, as the hungry plebeians would the
noble Marcius.
BRUTUS. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.
MENENIUS. He's a bear indeed, that lives fike a lamb. You two are
old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, sir.
MENENIUS. In what enormity is Marcius poor in that you two have not
in abundance?
BRUTUS. He's poor in no one fault, but stor'd with all.
SICINIUS. Especially in pride.
BRUTUS. And topping all others in boasting.
MENENIUS. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured
here in the city- I mean of us o' th' right-hand file? Do you?
BOTH TRIBUNES. Why, how are we censur'd?
MENENIUS. Because you talk of pride now- will you not be angry?
BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, well, sir, well.
MENENIUS. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. Give your
dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures- at the
least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame
Marcius for being proud?
BRUTUS. We do it not alone, sir.
MENENIUS. I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are
many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your
abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone. You talk of
pride. O that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your
necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O
that you could!
BOTH TRIBUNES. What then, sir?
MENENIUS. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
proud, violent, testy magistrates-alias fools- as any in Rome.
SICINIUS. Menenius, you are known well enough too.
MENENIUS. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves
a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't; said to
be something imperfect in favouring the first complaint, hasty
and tinder-like upon too trivial motion; one that converses more
with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the
morning. What I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath.
Meeting two such wealsmen as you are- I cannot call you
Lycurguses- if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I
make a crooked face at it. I cannot say your worships have
deliver'd the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with
the major part of your syllables; and though I must be content to
bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie
deadly that tell you you have good faces. If you see this in the
map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough too?
What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this
character, if I be known well enough too?
BRUTUS. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.
MENENIUS. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are
ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs; you wear out a good
wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and
a fosset-seller, and then rejourn the controversy of threepence
to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter
between party and party, if you chance to be pinch'd with the
colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag
against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss
the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing. All
the peace you make in their cause is calling both the parties