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The gods be good unto us!
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MENENIUS:
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No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto
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us. When we banished him, we respected not them;
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and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
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Messenger:
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Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house:
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The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune
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And hale him up and down, all swearing, if
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The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
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They'll give him death by inches.
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SICINIUS:
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What's the news?
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Second Messenger:
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Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd,
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The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone:
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A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
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No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
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SICINIUS:
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Friend,
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Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
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Second Messenger:
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As certain as I know the sun is fire:
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Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
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Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
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As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you!
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The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes,
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Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans,
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Make the sun dance. Hark you!
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MENENIUS:
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This is good news:
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I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
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Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
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A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
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A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day:
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This morning for ten thousand of your throats
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I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
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SICINIUS:
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First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next,
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Accept my thankfulness.
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Second Messenger:
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Sir, we have all
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Great cause to give great thanks.
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SICINIUS:
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They are near the city?
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Second Messenger:
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Almost at point to enter.
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SICINIUS:
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We will meet them,
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And help the joy.
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First Senator:
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Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!
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Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
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And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them:
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Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
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Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
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Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!'
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All:
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Welcome, ladies, Welcome!
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AUFIDIUS:
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Go tell the lords o' the city I am here:
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Deliver them this paper: having read it,
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Bid them repair to the market place; where I,
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Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
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Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
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The city ports by this hath enter'd and
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Intends to appear before the people, hoping
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To purge herself with words: dispatch.
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Most welcome!
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First Conspirator:
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How is it with our general?
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AUFIDIUS:
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Even so
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As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
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And with his charity slain.
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Second Conspirator:
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Most noble sir,
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If you do hold the same intent wherein
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You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
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Of your great danger.
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AUFIDIUS:
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