University of Virginia Library

Scene, The City Rome.
Enter A Company of Mutinous Citizens, with Staves, Clubs, and other Weapons.
1 Cit.
Before we Proceed any further, hear me Speak.

All.
Speak, speak.

1 Cit.

Let me hear Silence then: And shall I
speak all your Minds before you take the Trouble
to think what you would have?

All.

Speak, speak.

1 Cit.

You are all Resolv'd rather to Dye than Starve.

All.

Resolv'd, resolv'd.

1 Cit.

First you know Caius Martius is Chief Enemy to the
People.

All.

We know't, we know't.

1 Cit.

Let us kill him, and we'll have Corn at our own Price.
Is't a Verdict?

All.

He's Dead, he's dead.

2 Cit.

One Word good Citizens.

1 Cit.

Good Citizens; we are Accounted poor Citizens, the Patricians

good: what Surfeits them, wou'd Relieve us: Let 'um feel
our Swords, that take away the Use of our Knives; not that I
mean any Harm Neighbours; for the Gods know I speak this in
Hunger for Bread, and not in Thirst for Revenge.

2 Cit.

Wou'd we Proceed only against Caius Martius?

1 Cit.

Against him only, together with all the Rest.

2 Cit.

Consider what Services he has done for his Country.

1 Cit.

We have paid him with our Thanks for't; but he is
Proud, and hates the Commonalty; we'll Pay him for that
too: You say he did Famously to Please his Country; I say
he did it to Please his Mother, as great a Hector as himself.
Shout here
What Shouts are these? Why? There now is the Blessing
of good Example. The other side o'th' City is Risen too: Come,
let's make Hast, or they'l Run away with the Capitol before
we overtake 'em.

All.

Away, away, away.

Enter Menenius.
1 Cit.

Soft, Who comes here? Oh! 'tis Menenius Agrippa, one
that Loves the People, and alwayes Imploy'd me to Work for
him.

2 Cit.

Well, He's indifferent Honest.

Men.

What Work's in Hand my Country-men? where go you
with those Staves and Clubs? The Matter, speak I beseech you?

1 Cit.

Our Business is not unknown to the Senate, they might
have smelt us this Fortnight; they say, poor Suiters have strong
Breaths, they shall find we have strong Arms too.

Men.

Why Masters, my good Friends, my honest Neighbours,
Will you undo your selves?

1 Cit.
Nay, if that be all, we are undone already.

Men.
I tell you Friends, the good Patricians have
For all your Wants, most charitable Care;
But for this Dearth, the Gods (not They) have made it:
You are Transported by your Misery,
To Slander those that Care for you like Fathers.

1 Cit.

Care for us? Yes, by shutting up the Store-Houses, and
suffering us to Famish: If the Wars Eat us not up, they will;

and there's the Care they bear, for us.

Men.
Now must you, or Confess your selves Malicious;
Or be Accus'd of Folly: Shall I tell you
A pretty Tale? It may be, you have heard it,
But since it serves the present Purpose—

1 Cit.

Well, we'll hear it Sir; but think not to fob us off with
a Tale: but an't please you Deliver.

Men.

There was a Time—

2 Cit.

Good, There was a Time; a very good Beginning: all
your good Stories begin with, There was a Time.

Men.
When all the Body's Members
Rebell'd against the Belly, and Accus'd it
For being Unactive, Idle, never bearing
Like Labour with the Rest, whilst th'other Parts
Did See, and Hear, Devise, Instruct, Walk, Feel,
Yet this dull Gulph gorg'd all the Food; to which
The Belly Answer'd—

1 Cit.
Well, What said the Belly?

Men.
Why Sir? I tell you with a kind of Smile:
For look you, I may make the Belly Smile,
As well as Speak: It Tauntingly reply'd
To the Discontented Members, the Mutinous Parts.

1 Cit.
Well, What was its Answer?

2. Cit.
He had best see to't, that it be a good One.

Men.
Patience good Friends,
Your most grave Belly was Deliberate,
Not Rash like his Accusers: and thus Answer'd,
True is it my incorporate Friends (quoth he)
That I do first Receive the general Food
You Live upon, and 'tis most fit;
Because I am the Store-House and the Shop
Of the whole Body: but if you do remember,
I send it through the Rivers of your Blood,
Ev'n to the Heart, and every Nerve and Vein,
From me receive their Strength; though all at once;
Pray Mark me Sirs—

All.
Well Sir, we do.

Men.
Though all at once (sayes he) cannot
See what I do Deliver out to Each;
Yet I can make up my Account, that all
Do Back from me, receive the Flower of All,
And leave me but the Bran: What say you to't?

All.
Nay Sir, What say You to't? Come.

Men.
The Senators of Rome are this good Belly,
And you the Factious parts; Digest things rightly,
Touching the Common-Weal, and you shall find,
No publick Benefit which you receive,
But it Proceeds from them, not from your selves:
What do you think of this? And what think you?
You the great Toe of this Assembly?

1 Cit.
I the great Toe! Why the great Toe?

Men.
For that being one o'th' Lowest, Basest, Poorest;
Of this most Wise Rebellion thou goest Fore-most:
Thou Rascal, that art worst in Blood, the Ring-leader:
But make you ready your stiff Bats and Clubs,
Rome, and her Rats are at the point of Battle.
Hail Noble Martius.

Enter Caius Martius.
Mart.
What is the Matter you Dissentious Rogues,
You Scabs, Bred from the Itch of your own Opinion?

1 Cit.
I, wee had ever your good Word.

Mart.
He that will give good Words to thee will Flatter
Beneath a Bawd; What would you have you Curs?
That like not Peace nor War; the one Affrights you,
The other makes you Factious: he that Trusts you;
Where he shou'd find you Lions, finds you Hares;
You are Vertues Contrary; who deserves Greatness,
Deserves your Hate; and your Affections are
A Sick-mans Appetite, which desires that most,
That wou'd increase his Evil; who Depends
Upon your Favours, Swims with Finns of Lead:
With ev'ry Minute you do change a Mind,
And call him Noble, that was now your Hate;
Him Vile, that was your Garland: What's the Matter,
That in these several Places of the City,
You Cry against the Noble Senate, who
Under the Gods keep you in Awe; who else
Like Beasts of Prey, wou'd Feed on one another.
What's their seeking?

Men.
For Corn at their own Rates, with which they say,
The City is well Stor'd.

Mart.
They say! Hang 'em;
They'll sit by th'Fire, and take on 'em to know
What's done i'th' Capitol: They say there's Grain enough;
Wou'd the Nobility lay aside their Patience,
And let me use my Sword, I'd make a Quarry
With Thousands of these Quarter'd Slaves, as high
As their own Capitol.

Men.
Nay, these are almost throughly perswaded;
For though abundantly they lack Discretion,
Yet they are passing Cowardly; but I pray you,
What sayes the other Troop?

Mart.
Burn 'em, the Herd are Scatter'd;
They said they were a Hungry, Sigh'd forth Proverbs,
That Hunger broke Stone-Walls, that Dogs must Eat,
That Meat was made for Mouths, that the Gods sent not
Corn for the Rich Men only; with these Shreds
They Vented their Complaints; which being Answered,
And a Petition Granted them, A strange one
To break the Heart of Pow'r: they threw their Caps up;
As they wou'd Hang 'em on the Horns o'th' Moon.

Men.
What's Granted 'em?

Mart.
Four Tribunes (to Defend their vulgar Wisdomes)
Of their own Choosing; Brutus, Cornicius, Sicinius, Bethellius:
The Rabble shou'd have first Unrooft the City,
'Ere so prevail'd with me; it will in time
Confound the Senate: Get you Home you Fragments.

Enter Decius.
Dec.
Most Noble Martius,
The Senate makes you here next Substitute
To our General Comminius, in the Place
Of Lartius, for the present Wars
Against the Volsces.

Men.
A Charge that you have Sigh'd for;
Yet still you seem Disturb'd.

Mart.
My Task is with their City, whilst Cominius
Engages their Field-Forces.

Men.
What of that?

Mart.
Tullus Aufidius, there is to be found,
My Rival once, still most inveterate Foe:
Were half to half the World Engag'd, and He
Upon my Party, I'd Revolt, to make
My Wars only with him: He is a Lyon
That I am Proud to Hunt: Menenius, Thou
Shalt see me once more Strike at Tullus Face.
What, Art thou stiff? Stand'st out?

Men.
No Caius Martius,
I'll Lean upon one Crutch, and Fight with to'ther,
'Ere Lag behind this Business.

Mart.
One Word my Fellow-Citizens.

1 Cit.
No good I warrant it.

Mart.
You shall have Corn enough, on Martius Word you shall.

1 Cit.
Why? Look you there now, I alwayes said we were
Mistaken in this Man.

All.
A Martius, a Martius, &c.

1 Cit.
As how, most Noble Martius?

Mart.
Lartius is Dead, and I'm Employ'd by the Senate
To Storm the Volsces Citty; there is Store
Of Richest Grain: Follow me, All is yours.
[Here the Citizens Steal away severally.
See now, if these vile Rats dare go to knaw
The Enemies Garners: Here comes Two of their Tribunes.
Let us Bequeath 'em this Infected Ground.
Come, let's to Horse.

Men.
Will you not Home first, and take short Leave
Of your Dear Wife, and Honour'd Mother?

Mart.
My Charge is speedy, Womens Farewel's Tedious:
Stay thou Menenius to perform for me
That Office; I'll away upon the Spur,
And Reach my Troops 'ere the Sun Wash his Steeds.

[Exit.
Men.
The Gods Preserve you.

As they go off, the Tribunes, Scicinius, and Brutus meet them, they pass by (Disdaining) each other.
Sic.
Was ever Man so Proud as is this Martius?

Bru.
He has no Equal.

Sic.
When we were Chosen Tribunes for the People,
What Indignation Sparkled from his Eyes?

Bru.
Success i'th' present Wars, will swell his Spirits,
Above his Mothers Haughtiness, which he
Retains, as she had Nurs'd him with her Blood.

Sic.
Hark, hark! The Peoples Murmurs are not ceast,
Tho much they Build on their New Tribunes Pow'r.
Come, let us hasten to Apply our Selves,
And Work upon their Fury e're it Cools.

[Exeunt.