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 th' discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
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 a' th' 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 awhile, you'st hear the belly's answer.
[1.] CIT.
Y' are long about it.
MEN.
Note me this, good friend:
Your most grave belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his accusers, and thus answered:
»True is it, my incorporate friends,« quoth he,
»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
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 th' seat o' th' 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; disgest things rightly
Touching the weal a' th' 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' th' lowest, basest, poorest
Of this most wise rebellion, thou goest foremost;
Thou rascal, that 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.
Enter Caius Martius.
Hail, noble Martius!
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 to 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 offense 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 favors 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 vild, 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 th' fire, and presume to know
What's done i' th' 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 dissolv'd. 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 a' th' 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.
MEN.
This is strange.
MAR.
Go get you home, you fragments!
Enter a Messenger hastily.
MESS.
Where's Caius Martius?
MAR.
Here. What's the matter?
MESS.
The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.
MAR.
I am glad on't, then we shall ha' means to vent
Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.
Enter Sicinius Velutus, Junius Brutus, Cominius, Titus Lartius, with other Senators.
1. SEN.
Martius, 'tis true that you have lately told us,
The Volsces 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.
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