The Same. A Street near the Gate. |
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Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an Ædile. |
Sic. Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further. |
The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided |
In his behalf. |
Bru. Now we have shown our power, |
Let us seem humbler after it is done |
Than when it was a-doing. |
Sic. Bid them home; |
Say their great enemy is gone, and they |
Stand in their ancient strength. |
Bru. Dismiss them home. [Exit Ædile. |
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Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS. |
Here comes his mother. |
Sic. Let's not meet her. |
Bru. Why? |
Sic. They say she's mad. |
Bru. They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way. |
Vol. O! you're well met. The hoarded plague o' the gods |
Requite your love! |
Men. Peace, peace! be not so loud. |
Vol. If that I could for weeping, you should hear,— |
Nay, and you shall hear some. [To BRUTUS.] Will you be gone? |
Vir. [To SICINIUS.] You shall stay too. I would I had the power |
To say so to my husband. |
Sic. Are you mankind? |
Vol. Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool. |
Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship |
To banish him that struck more blows for Rome |
Than thou hast spoken words? |
Sic. O blessed heavens! |
Vol. More noble blows than ever thou wise words; |
And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go: |
Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son |
Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, |
His good sword in his hand. |
Sic. What then? |
Vir. What then! |
He'd make an end of thy posterity. |
Vol. Bastards and all. |
Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! |
Men. Come, come: peace! |
Sic. I would he had continu'd to his country |
As he began, and not unknit himself |
The noble knot he made. |
Bru. I would he had. |
Vol. 'I would he had!' 'Twas you incens'd the rabble: |
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth |
As I can of those mysteries which heaven |
Will not have earth to know. |
Bru. Pray, let us go. |
Vol. Now, pray, sir, get you gone: |
You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this: |
As far as doth the Capitol exceed |
The meanest house in Rome, so far my son,— |
This lady's husband here, this, do you see,— |
Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. |
Bru. Well, well, we'll leave you. |
Sic. Why stay we to be baited |
With one that wants her wits? |
Vol. Take my prayers with you. [Exeunt Tribunes. |
I would the gods had nothing else to do |
But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em |
But once a day, it would unclog my heart |
Of what lies heavy to 't. |
Men. You have told them home, |
And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me? |
Vol. Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, |
And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go. |
Leave this faint puling and lament as I do, |
In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. |
Men. Fie, fie, fie! [Exeunt. |
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