True fword to fword; I'll potch at him fome way, Sol. He's the devil. Auf. Bolder, tho' not fo fubtle: my valour (poison'd, With only fuffering ftain by him) for him Shall fly out of itself: not fleep, nor fanctuary, Wafh my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' city; Sol. Will not you go ? Auf. I am attended at the cyprefs grove. I pray you, ('Tis fouth the city-mills) bring me word thither How the world goes, that to the pace of it I may fpur on my journey. Sol. I fhall, Sir. [Exeunt ACT II. SCENE, ROME. Enter Menenius, with Sicinius and Brutus. MENENIUS. HE Augur tells me, we fhall have news to-night- TH Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius. Sic. Nature teaches beafts to know their friends. Sic. The lamb. Men. Ay, to devour him, as the hungry Plebeians would the noble Marcius. Bru. He's a lamb, indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's.a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men, tell me one thing that I shall afk you. Both. Well, Sir; Mar. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you two have not in abundance ? Bra. He's poor in no one fault, but ftor'd with all. Sic. Efpecially, in pride. Bru. And topping all others in boasting. Men. This is ftrange now; do you two know how you are cenfur'd here in the city, I mean of us o'th' right hand file, do you? Bru. Why, how are we cenfur'd? Men. Becaufe you talk of pride now, will you not be angry? Both. Well, well, Sir, well. Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occafion will rob you of a great deal of patience: -give your difpofitions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being fo:- you blame Marcius for being proud. your Bru. We do it not alone, Sir. Men. I know, you can do very little alone; for helps are many, or elfe your actions wouldy grow wondrous fingle; your abilities are too infant-like, for doing much alone. You talk of pride oh, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior furvey of your good felves! Oh, that you could! Bru. What then, Sir? Men. Why, then you should difcover a brace of as unmeriting, proud, violent, tefty magiftrates, alias, fools, as any in Rome. Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. Men. 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: faid to be fomething imperfect, in favouring the first complaint; hafty and tinder-like, upon too trivial motion: one that converfes 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 fuch weals-men as you are, (I cannot call you Licurguffes) if the drink you give me touch my palate adverfly, I make a crooked face at it. I can't fay, your worships have deliver'd the matter well, when I find the afs in compound with the major part of your fyllables; and tho' I must be content to bear with thofe, that fay, you are reverend grave men; yet they lye deadly, that tell you, you have good faces; if y you fee this in the map of my microcosm, follows it, that I am known well enough too? (9) what harm can your biffon confpectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too? Bru. Come, Sir, come, we know you well enough, Men. You know neither me, yourfelves, nor any thing; you are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs; you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, in hearing a caufe between an orange-wife and a foffet-feller, and then adjourn a controverfy of three-pence to a fecond --- (9) What barm can your befom Con/pectuities glean out of this Character, &c.] If the Editors have form'd any Conftruction to themfelves, of this Epithet befom, that can be a propos to the Senfe of the Context ;-Davus fum, non Ovaipus: it is too hard a Riddle for me to expound. Menerius, 'tis plain, is abufing the Tribunes, and Dartering them Ironically. By Confpectuities he muft mean, their Sagacity, Clearfightedness and that they may not think he's Complimenting them, he tacks an Epithet to it, which quite undoes, that Character; i. e biffon, blind, bleer-ey'd. Skinner in his Etymologicon, explains this Word, Cacus; vox agro Lincoln. ufitatiffima, Ray concurs, in his North and South Country Words. And cur Author gives us this Term again in his Hamlet, where the Senfe exactly correfponds with this Interpretation.[ : Run barefoot up and down, threatning the Flames, i.e. blinded. It is fpoken of Heci, who Eyes and are day day of audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinch'd with the cholick, you make faces like mummers, fet up the bloody flag againft all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, difmifs the controverfy bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing all the peace you make in their caufe, is calling both the parties knaves. You are a pair of ftrange ones. Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfect gyber for the table, than a neceffary bencher in the capitol. Men. Our very priests muft become mockers, if they fhall encounter fuch ridiculous fubjects as you are; when you speak beft unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards; "and your beards deferve not fo honourable a grave, as to ftuff a botcher's cushion, or to be intomb'd in an afs's pack-faddle. Yet you must be faying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap eftimation, is worth all your predeceffors, fince Deucalion; though, peradventure, fome of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. Good-e'en to your worships; more of your converfation would infect my brain, being the herdimen of the beatly Plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave of you. [Brutus and Sicinius ftand ajide. As Menenius is going out, Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria. How now my (as fair as noble) ladies, and the moon, were fhe earthly, no nobler; whither do you follow your eyes fo faft? Val. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go. Men. Ha! Marcius, coming home? Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with moft profperous approbation. Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee hoo, Marcius coming home! Both. Nay, 'tis true, Vol. Look, here's a letter from him, the State hathi another, another, his wife, another; and, I think, there's one at home for you. 2 Men. I will make my very houfe reel to-night A letter for me! Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you, I faw't. -Men. A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the phyfician; the moft fovereign prefcription in Galen is but Emperic, and, to this prefervative, of no better report than a horfe-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come wounded.. Vir. Oh no, no, no. Vol. Oh, he is wounded, I thank the Gods for't. Men. So do I too, if he be not too much; brings a' victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. Vol. On's brows, Menenius; he comes the third time home with the oaken garland. Men. Hath he difciplin'd Aufidius foundly? Vol. Titus artius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off. Men. 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: he had ftaid by him, I would not have been for all the chefts in Corioli, and the gold th's in them. Is the Senate poffeft of this? Vol. Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes: the fenate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my fon the whole name of the war : he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly. Val. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. Men. Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchafing. Vir. The gods grant them true! Vol. True pow, waw.. Men. True? I'll be fworn they are true. Where is he wounded? God fave your good worships ;-Marcius is coming home; he has more caufe to be proud :where is he wounded? [To the Tribunes. Vol. I' th' fhoulder, and i' th' left arm; there will be large cicatrices to fhew the people, when he shall stand! for! |