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What Peace you'll make, advise me : For my part,
Anf. I am glad thou hast set thy Mercy, and thy Honour
[To Vol. Virg, &c.
[Exeunt, SCENE III. Rome.
Enter Menenius and Sicinius. Men. See you yond Coin o'ch'Capitol, yond Corner Scones -Sic. Why, what of that?
Men. If ic be poslible for you to displace it with your little Finger, there is some hope the Ladies of Rome, espe, cially his Mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is nó hope in't, our Throats are sentenc'd, and stay upon Execution,
Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a Man.
Men. There is difference between a Grub and a Butterfly, yet your Butterfly was a Grub; this Martius is grown from Man to Dragon: He has Wings, he's more than a creeping, thing. ; Sic. He lov'd his Mother dearly.
Men. So did he me : And he no more remembers his Mother now, than an eight years old Horse. The tartness of his Face fours ripe Grapes. When he walks, he moves like an Engine, and the Ground shrinks before his Treading. He is able to pierce a Corflet with his Eye : Talks like a Knell, and his hum is a Battery. He fits in his State as a thing made for Alexander, What he bids be done is finish'd with his bidding. He wants nothing of a God, but Eternity, and a Heaven to Throne in. Sic. Yes, Mercy, if you report him truly,
Men. I paint him in the Character. Mark what Mercy his Mother shall bring from him ; there is no more Mercy in him, than there is Milk in a Male-Tyger; that shall our poor City find; and all this is long of you.
Sic. The Gods be good unto us.
Men. No, in such a case the Gods will not be good unto us. When we banish'd him, we respected not them: And he returning to break our Necks, they refpe& not us.
Enter a Messenger. Mes. Sir, if you'd save your Life flye to your House, The Plebeians have got your Fellow-Tribune, And hale him up and down, all swearing, if The Roman Ladies bring not Comfort home, They'll give him Death by Inches.
Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the News ?
Mes. Good News, good News, the Ladies have prevail’d, The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Martius gone: A merrier Day did never yet greet Rome, No, not th’ Expulsion of the Tarquins.
Sic. Friend, art thou certain this is true? Is't most certain ?
Mef. As certain as I know the Sun is Fire: Where have you lurk’d, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an Arch fo hurried the blown Tide, As the recomforted through th'Gates. Why, hark you.
[Trumpets, Hantboys, Drums beat, all together. The Trumpets, Sackbuts, Psalteries and Fifes, Tabors and Cymbals, and the shouting Romans Make the Sun dance. Hark you.
[Afbout within. Men. This is good News : I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia Is worth of Consuls, Senators, Patricians, A City full: Of Tribunes, such as you, A Sea and Land full; you have pray'd well to Day: This Morning, for ten thousand of your Throats, I'd not have given a doit. Hark how they joy.
[Sound still with the Shouts. Sic. First, the Gods bless you for your Tidings : Next, accept my Thankfulness.
Mes. Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks. Sic. They are near the City?
Mes. Almost at point to enter. Sic. We'll meet them, and help the Joy. [Exeunt. Enter two Senators, with Ladies passing over the Stage with
other Lords. Sen. Behold our Patroness, the life of Rome : Call all your Tribes together, praise the Gods, And make triumphant Fires, strew Flowers before them: Unshout the Noise that banish'd Martius; Repeal him with the welcome of his Mother: Cry, welcome, Ladies, welcome. All. Welcome Ladies, welcome.
[Exeunt. [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpers. SCENE IV. Antium.
Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.
Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius's Faétion.
I Con. How is it with our General ?
Anf. Even so, as with a Man by his own Alms impoyfon'd, and with his Charity Nain.
2 Con. Most noble Sir, if you do hold the same intent, Wherein you wish'd us Parties; we'll deliver you of your
great danger. Auf. Sir, I cannot tell, We must proceed as we do find the People.
3 Con. The People will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the Survivor Heir of all.
Auf. I know it;
He bow'd his Nature, never known before,
3 Con. Sir, his Stoutness
Auf. That I would have spoke of:
i Con. So he did, my Lord:
Auf. There was it ;
. i con. Your Native Town you enter'd like a Poft, And had no welcomes home, but he returns Splitting the Air with Noise.
2 Con. And patient Fools,
3 Con. Therefore at your vantage,
Auf. Say no more, here come the Lords.
.. Enter the Lords of the City. All Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf. I have not deserv'd it.
All. We have.
i Lord. And grieve to hear it.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Commons being with him.
Auf. Read it not, Noble Lords,