University of Virginia Library

Scena prima.

Enter Cynna, Octauius, Anthonius, Lictors, Citizens.
Cyn:
Vpbraiding Senators bewitcht with wit,
That terme true iustice innouation:
You ministers of Scillas mad conceipts,
Will Consulls thinke you stoope to your controules?
These yonger Citizens, my fellow Lords,
Bound to maintaine both Marius and his sonne.
Craue but their due, and will be held as good
For priuiledge, as those of elder age:
For they are men conformd to feats of armes,
That haue both wit and courage to commaund.
These fauorites of Octauius, what with age
And palsies shake their iauelins in their hands,
Like hartlesse men attainted all with feare:
And should they then ouer-top the youth.
No, nor this Consull, nor Marke Anthonie,
Shall make my followers faint, or loose their right,
But I will haue them equall with the best.

M. An:
Why then the Senates name (whose reuerence
Hath blazd our vertues midst the Westerne Ile)
Must be obscurde by Cynnas forced powre.
O Citizens, are lawes of Countrey left?
Is iustice banisht from this Capitoll?
Must we poore fathers see your trooping bands
Enter the sacred Synode of this state.
Oh brutish fond presumptions of this age,
Rome would the mischiefes might obscure my life,
So I might counsaile Consulls to be wise.
VVhy Countri-men wherein consists this strife?
Forsooth the yonger Citizens will rule,
The old mens heads are dull and addle now:
And in elections youth will beare the sway?
O Cynna, see I not the wofull fruits
Of these ambitious stratagems begun,
Each flattring tongue that dallieth pretie words,
Shall change our fortunes and our states at once.
Had I ten thousand tongues to talke the care,
So manie eyes to weepe their wofull misse,
So manie pennes to write these manie wrongs:
My tongue your thoughts, my eyes your teares shuld moue,
My pen your paines by reasons should approue.

Cynna:
VVhy Anthonie, seale vp those sugred lips,
For I will bring my purpose to effect.

Anth:
Doth Cynna like to interrupt me then?

Cynna:
I Cynna sir, will interrupt you now,
I tell thee Marke, old Marius is at hand,
The verie patron of this happie law,
VVho will reuenge thy cunning eloquence.

Ma. An:
I talke not I to please or him or thee,
But what I speake, I thinke and practise too:
Twere better Scilla learnt to mend in Rome,
Than Marius come to tyrannize in Rome.

Octa:
Nay Marius shall not tyrannize in Rome.
Old Citizens, as Scilla late ordaind,
King Tullius lawes shall take their full effect,
The best and aged men shall in their choice,
Both beare the day and firme election.

Cynna:
Oh braue Octauius you will beard me then,
The elder Consull and old Marius frend,
And these Italian freemen must be wrongd.
First shall the frute of all thine honors faile,
And this my ponyard shall dispatch thy life.

Lepid.
Such insolence was neuer seene in Rome:
Nought wanteth here but name to make a King.

Octa:
Strike villaine if thou list, for I am prest,
To make as deepe a furrow in thy brest.

Yong Cit:
The yong mens voices shal preuaile my lords.

Old Cit:
And we will firme our honors by our blouds.

Thunder.
Anth:
O false ambitious pride in yong and old:
Harke how the heauens our follies hath contrould.

Old Cit:
What shall we yeeld for this religious feare?

Anth:
If not religious feare, what may represse
These wicked passions, wretched Citizens.
O Rome, poore Rome, vnmeet for these misdeedes,
I see contempt of heauens will breed acrosse:
Sweete Cynna gouerne rage with reuerence.
Thunder.
O fellow Citizens, be more aduisde.

Lepid.
VVe charge you Consulls now dissolue the Court
The Gods contemne this brawle and ciuill iurres.

Oct:
We will submit our honors to their wills:
You ancient Citizens come follow mee.

Exit Octauius, with him Anthonie & Lepidus.
Cynna:
High Ioue himselfe hath done too much for thee,
Els should this blade abate thy royaltie.
VVell yong Italian Citizens take hart,
He is at hand that will maintaine your right:
That entring in these fatall gates of Rome,
Shall make them tremble that disturbe you now.
You of Preneste and of Formiæ,
VVith other neighbring Cities in Campania,
Prepare to entertaine and succor Marius.

Citizen:
For him we liue, for him we meane to die.

Ext.
Enter old Marius with his keeper, & two souldiers.
Marius:
Haue these Minturnians then so cruelly,
Presumd so great iniustice gainst their frends?

Iailer:
I Marius, all our Nobles haue decreed
To send thy head a present vnto Rome.

Marius:
A Tantals present it will proue my frend,
VVhich with a little smarting stresse will end
Old Marius life, when Rome it selfe at last,
Shall rue my losse, and then reuenge my death.
But tell me Iailer, couldst thou be content,
In being Marius for to brooke this wrong.

Iailer:
The high estate your Lordship once did wield,
The manie frends that fawnd when fortune smild,
Your great promotions, and your mightie welth:
These (were I Marius) would amate me so,
As losse of them would vexe me more than death.

Marius:
Is Lordship then so great a blisse my frend?

Jailer:
No title may compare with princely rule.

Marius:
Are frends so faithfull pledges of delight?

Iailer:
VVhat better comforts than are faithfull frends?

Marius:
Is welth a meane to lengthen liues content?

Iai:
VVhere great possessions bide, what care can tutch?

Marius:
These stales of fortune are the common plagues
That still mislead the thoughts of simple men.
The shepheard swaine that midst his country cote,
Deludes his broken slumbers by his toyle,
Thinkes Lordship sweete, where care with lordship dwelt
The trustfull man that builds on trothles vowes,
VVhose simple thoughts are crost with scornfull nayes,
Together weepes the losse of welth and frend:
So Lordship, frends, welth, spring and perish fast,
VVhere death alone yeelds happie life at last.
O gentle gouernor of my contents,
Thou sacred chieftaine of our Capitoll,
VVho in thy christall orbes with glorious gleames,
Lendst lookes of pitie mixt with maiestie,
See wofull Marius carefull for his sonne,
Carelesse of lordship, welth or worldly meanes,
Content to liue, yet liuing still to die:
VVhose nerues and veynes, whose sinewes by the sword
Must loose their workings through distempering stroake:
But yet whose minde in spight of fate and all,
Shall liue by fame although the bodie fall.

Iail:
VVhy mourneth Marius this recurelesse chance?

Mar:
I prethee Iailer wouldst thou gladly die?

Iail:
If needes, I would.

Mar:
Yet were you loath to trie.

Iail:
VVhy noble Lord, when goods, frends, fortune faile
VVhat more than death might wofull man auaile?

Mar:
VVho calls for death (my frend) for all his scornes,
VVith Aesops slaue will leaue his bush of thornes.
But since these traitrous Lords will haue my head,
Their Lordships here vpon this homely bed,
Shall finde me sleeping, breathing forth my breath,
Till they their shame, and I my fame attaine by death.
Liue gentle Marius to reuenge my wrong,
And sirrha see they stay not ouer-long.
For he that earst hath conquered kingdomes many,
Disdaines in death to be subdude by anie.

He lies downe.
Enter Lucius Fauorinus, Pausanius, with Pedro, a French-man.
Iail:
The most vndanted words that euer were.
The mightie thoughts of his imperious minde,
Do wound my hart with terror and remorse.

Paus:
Tis desperate, not perfect noblenes.
For to a man that is preparde to die,
The heart should rent, the sleepe should leaue the eye:
But say Pedro, will you doo the deed?

Pedr:

Mon monsieurs perla sang dieu, mee will make a
trou so large in ce belly, dat he sal cry hough come vne porceau.
Featre delay, il a true me fadre, hee kill my modre.
Faith a my trote mon espee: fera le fay dun sol dat, Sau, sau,
Ieieuera, come il founta pary, me will make a spitch-cocke
of his persona.

Fauor:
If he haue slaine thy father and thy frends,
The greater honor shall betide the deed:
For to reuenge on righteous estimate,
Beseemes the honor of a French mans name.

Pedro:

Mes messiers, de fault auoir argent, me no point
de argent, no point kill Marius.

Paus:

Thou shalt haue forty crowns, wil that content thee?

Pedro:

Quarante escus, per le pied de Madam, me giue
more dan foure to se prettie damosele, dat haue le dulces tettinos,
leleures cymbrines. Oh they be fines.

Fauorinus:
Great is the hire and little is the paine,
Make therefore quicke dispatch, and looke for gaine.
See where he lies in drawing on his death,
VVhose eies by gentle slumber sealed vp,
Present no dreadfull visions to his hart.

Pedro:

Bien monsieur, le demourera content. Maries
tu es mort. Speake dy preres in dy sleepe, for me fall cut off
your head from your espaules before you wake. Quies stia,
what kinde a man be dis.

Fauor:

VVhy what delaies are these, why gaze ye thus?

Pedr:

Nostre dame, Iesu estiene, oh my siniors der be a
great diable in ce eies, qui dart de flame, and with de voice
d'un beare, cries out, Villaine dare you kill Marius. Ie tremble:
aid a me siniors, autrement I shall be murdred.

Paus.

VVhat sodaine madnes daunts this stranger thus?

Pedro:

Oh me no can kill Marius, me no dare kill Marius:
adieu messiers, me be dead si ie touche Marius, Marius est
vne diable. Iesu Maria saua moy.

Exit fugiens.
Paus.
VVhat furie haunts this wretch on sodaine thus?

Fauor:
Ah my Pausanius I haue often heard,
That yonder Marius in his infancie
VVas borne to greater fortunes than we deeme:
For being scarce from out his cradle crept,
And sporting pretely with his compeeres,
On sodaine seuen yong Eagles soard amaine,
And kindly pearcht vpon his tender lap.
His parents wondring at this strange euent,
Tooke counsaile of the Southsaiers in this,
VVho told them that these seuen-fold Eagles flight,
Forefigured his seuen times Consulship:
And we our selues (except bewitcht with pride)
Haue seene him sixe times in the Capitoll
Accompanyd with rods and axes too.
And some diuine instinct so presseth mee,
That sore I tremble till I set him free.

Paus:
The like assaults attaint my wandring minde.
Seeing our bootlesse warre with matchlesse fate,
Let vs intreat him to forsake our towne,
So shall we gaine a frend of Rome and him:
Marius awaketh.
But marke how happely he doth awake.

Mar:
What, breath I yet pore man, with mounting sight
Choaking the riuers of my restlesse eies?
Or is their rage restraind with matchlesse ruth?
See how amazd these angrie Lords behold
The poore confused lookes of wretched Marius.
Minturnians why delaies your headsman thus
To finish vp this ruthfull tragedie?

Fauorinus:
Far be it Marius from our thoughts or hands
To wrong the man protected by the Gods:
Liue happie (Marius) so thou leaue our towne.

Marius:
And must I wrestle once againe with fate?
Or will these Princes dally with mine age?

Pausan:
No matchles Romane, thine approued minde
That earst hath altred our ambitious wrong
Must flourish still, and we thy seruants liue
To see thy glories like the swelling tides
Exceed the bounds of Fate and Romane rule.
Yet leaue vs Lord, and seeke some safer shed,
Where more secure thou maist preuent mishaps:
For great pursuits and troubles thee awaite.

Marius:
Ye piteous powres that with succesfull hopes,
And gentle counsailes thwart my deepe dispaires:
Olde Marius to your mercies recommends
His hap, his life, his hazard and his sonne.
Minturnians, I will hence, and you shall flie
Occasions of those troubles you expect.
Dreame not on dangers that haue faud my life:
Lordings adieu, from walls to woods I wend,
To hills, dales, rockes, my wrong for to commend.

Exit.
Fauor:
Fortune vouchsafe thy manie cares to end.

Exe.