SCENE.-Partly in Rome, and partly in the Territories of the Volscians and Antiates.

ACT I.

SCENE I-Rome. A Street.

Enter a Company of mutinous CITIZENS, with Staves, Clubs, and other Weapons.

1 Cit. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

Cit. Speak, speak.

Several speaking at once.

1 Cit. You are all resolved rather to die, than to famish?

Cit. Resolved, resolved.

1 Cit. First you know, Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. Cit. 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?

Cit. No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away. 2 Cit. One word, good citizens.

1 Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good:* What authority surfeits on, would relieve us; If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess, they relieved us humanely; but they think, we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them.-Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we be

* Rich.

come rakes: for the gods know, I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius ? Cit. Against him first; he's a very dog to the commonalty.

2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country ? 1 Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for 't, but that he pays himself with being proud.

2 Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

1 Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be content to say, it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

2 Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him: You must in no way say, he is covetous.

1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o' the city is risen: Why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!

Cit. Come, come.

1 Cit. Soft; who come here?

Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA.

2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa: one that hath always loved the people.

1 Cit. He 's one honest enough; 'Would, all the rest were so! Men. What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you? With bats and clubs ? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

1 Cit. Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have had inkling, this fortnight, what we intend to to, which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say, poor suitors have strong breaths; they shall know, we have strong arms too.

Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, Will you undo yourselves?

1 Cit. We cannot, Sir, we are undone already.
Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care
Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your staves, as lift them
Against the Roman state; whose course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong link asunder, than can ever
Appear in your impediment: For the dearth,
The gods, not the patricians, make it; and
Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
You are transported by calamity

Thither where more attends you; and you slander
The helms o'the state, who care for you like fathers,
When you curse them as enemies.

1 Cit. Care for us!-True, indeed !-They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers: repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich; and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor.

*Thin as rakes.

If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,

Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you

A pretty tale; it may be, you have heard it;

But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture

To stale't a little more.

1 Cit. Well, I'll hear it, Sir; yet you must not think to fob off our disgracet with a tale: but, an't please you, deliver.

Men. There was a time, when all the body's members Rebell'd against the belly; thus accused it :

That only like a gulf it did remain

I'the midst o'the body, idle and inactive,

Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

Like labour with the rest; where the other instruments
Did see, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate,§ did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered,--

1 Cit. Well, Sir, what answer made the belly
Men. Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus
(For, look you, I may make the belly smile,
As well as speak), it tauntingly replied

To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly T
As you malign our senators, for that
They are not such as you.

1 Cit. Your belly's answer: What!

The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabric, if that they-

Men. What then ?

'Fore me, this fellow speaks!-what then? what then? 1 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, Who is the sink o'the body,

Men. Well, what then?

1 Cit. The former agents, if they did complain, What could the belly answer?

Men. I will tell you;

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:

True is it, my incorporate friends, quoth he,

That I receive the general food at first,

*Make it more common.

↑ Whereas.

† Hardship.

§ Participant.

Exactly.

I. e. which indicated not pleasure but contempt.

Which you do live upon and fit it is;
Because I am the storehouse, and the shop
Of the whole body: But if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,

Even to the court, the heart,-to the seat o'the brain;
And, through the cranks* and offices of man,
The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins,
From me receive that natural competency,
Whereby they live: And though that all at once,
You, my good friends (this says the belly) mark me,-
1 Cit. Ay, Sir; well, well.

Men. Though all at once cannot
See what I do deliver out to each;
Yet I can make my audit up, that all,

From me do back receive the flour of all,

And leave me but the bran. 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
Their counsels, and their cares; digest things rightly,
Touching the weal o'the common? you shall find,
No public benefit which you receive,

But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you,
And no way from yourselves.-What do you think?
You the great toe of this assembly?

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:
Thou rascal, thou art worst in blood, to run
Lead'st first to win some vantage.-

But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs;

Rome and her rats are at the point of battle,

The one side must have bale. Hail! noble Marcius!

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,
That like nor peace, nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: You are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,

To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness,
Deserves your hate: and your affections are

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that

Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,

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 stored.

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 †
With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
As I could pick my lance.

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 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 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 wisdoms,

Of their own choice: One's Junius Brutus,

Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath!

The rabble should have first unroof'd the city;

Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time

Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes
For insurrection's arguing.T

Men. This is strange.

Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments!

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mes. Where's Caius Marcius?

Mar. Here: What's the matter?

Mes. 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.

*Pity, compassion.

§ I. e. of the patricians.

+ Heap of dead.

+ Pitch.

Factious triumph.

¶ Topic.