If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little,) · Patience, a while, you'll hear the belly's answer. 1 Cit. You are long about it. Men. Note me this, good friend; Your most grave belly was deliberate, Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd.. That I receive the general food at first, Which you do live upon: and fit it is; Because I am the store-house, and the shop Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o'the brain; The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins, Whereby they live: And though that all at once, me, 1 Cit, Ay, sir; well, well. Men. Though all at once cannot See what I do deliver out to each; From me do back receive the And leave me but the bran. flower of all, What say you to't? 1 Cit. It was an answer: How apply you this? Men. The senators of Rome are this good belly, And you the mutinous members: For examine No publick benefit which you receive, But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you, 1 Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe? Men. For that being one o'the lowest, basest, poorest, Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs; Enter CAIUS MARCIUS. Mar. Thanks.-What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, Make yourselves scabs? 1 Cit. We have ever your good word. Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter Beneath abhorring.-What would you have, you curs, Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is, To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him, And curse that justice did it. Who deserves great ness, Deserves your hate: and your affections are A sick man's appetite, who desires most that And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye? With every 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, which else Would feed on one another?-What's their seeking? Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, The city is well stor'd. Mar. Hang 'em! They say? They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know What's done i' the Capitol: who's like to rise, Who thrives, and who declines: side factions, and give out Conjectural marriages; making parties strong, And feebling such as stand not in their liking, Below their cobbled shoes. They say, there's grain enough? Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry* Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; For though abundantly they lack discretion, Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, What says the other troop? Mar. They are dissolved: Hang 'em! They said, they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth pro verbs; 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 complainings; which being answer'd, And a petition granted them, a strange one, (To break the heart of generosity, And make bold power look pale,) they threw their caps As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon, Shouting their emulation. Men. What is granted them? Mar. Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar wis doms, Of their own choice: One's Junius Brutus, Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath! Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes For insurrection's arguing. Men. This is strange. Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments! Enter a Messenger. Mess. Where's Caius Marcius? Mar. Here: What's the matter? Mess. The news is, sir, the Volces are in arms. Mar. I am glad on't; then we shall have means to vent Our musty superfluity:-See, our best elders. Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS, and SICINIUS VELUTUS. 1 Sen. Marcius, 'tis true, that you have lately told us; The Volces are in arms. Mar. They have a leader, Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't. I sin in envying his nobility: And were I any thing but what I am, I would wish me only he. Com. You have fought together. Mar. Were half to half the world by the ears, and he Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make Only my wars with him: he is a lion That I am proud to hunt. |