Act I, Scene i:
Rome. A street.

[Enter a company of mutinous citizens, with staves, clubs, andother weapons.]

FIRST CITIZEN:

Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

ALL:

Speak, speak.

FIRST CITIZEN:

You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?

ALL:

Resolved, resolved.

FIRST CITIZEN:

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

ALL:

We know't, we know't.

FIRST CITIZEN:

Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a

verdict?

ALL:

No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away!

SECOND CITIZEN:

One word, good citizens.

FIRST CITIZEN:

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 become

rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in

thirst for revenge.

SECOND CITIZEN:

Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?

FIRST CITIZEN:

Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty.

SECOND CITIZEN:

Consider you what services he has done for his country?

FIRST CITIZEN:

Very well; and could be content to give him good report for't,

but that he pays himself with being proud.

SECOND CITIZEN:

Nay, but speak not maliciously.

FIRST CITIZEN:

I say unto you, what he hath done famously he did it 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.

SECOND CITIZEN:

What he cannot help in his nature you account a vice in him. You

must in no way say he is covetous.

FIRST CITIZEN:

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!

ALL:

Come, come.

FIRST CITIZEN:

Soft! who comes here?

SECOND CITIZEN:

Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.

FIRST CITIZEN:

He's one honest enough; would all the rest were so!

[Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA.]

MENENIUS:

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you

With bats and clubs? the matter? speak, I pray you.

FIRST CITIZEN:

Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have had inkling

this fortnight what we intend to do, which now we'll show 'em in

deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths; they shall know

we have strong arms too.

MENENIUS:

Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,

Will you undo yourselves?

FIRST CITIZEN:

We cannot, sir; we are undone already.

MENENIUS:

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' th' state, who care for you like fathers,

When you curse them as enemies.

FIRST CITIZEN:

Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us

to famish, and their storehouses 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. If the wars eat us not

up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

MENENIUS:

Either you must

Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,

Or be accus'd 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.

FIRST CITIZEN:

Well, I'll hear it, sir; yet you must not think to fob off our

disgrace with a tale: but, an't please you, deliver.

MENENIUS:

There was a time when all the body's members

Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it:—

That only like a gulf it did remain

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

Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

Like labour with the rest; where th' 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,—

FIRST CITIZEN:

Well, sir, what answer made the belly?

MENENIUS:

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

As you malign our senators for that

They are not such as you.

FIRST CITIZEN:

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

Is this our fabric, if that they,—

MENENIUS:

What then?—

'Fore me, this fellow speaks!—what then? what then?

FIRST CITIZEN:

Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,

Who is the sink o' the body,—

MENENIUS:

Well, what then?

FIRST CITIZEN:

The former agents, if they did complain,

What could the belly answer?

MENENIUS:

I will tell you;

If you'll bestow a small,—of what you have little,—

Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.

FIRST CITIZEN:

You are long about it.

MENENIUS:

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

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,—

FIRST CITIZEN:

Ay, sir; well, well.

MENENIUS:

'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?

FIRST CITIZEN:

It was an answer: how apply you this?

MENENIUS:

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?

FIRST CITIZEN:

I the great toe? why the great toe?

MENENIUS:

For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest,

Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st 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 MARCIUS.]

Hail, noble Marcius!

MARCIUS:

Thanks.—What's the matter, you dissentious rogues

That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,

Make yourselves scabs?

FIRST CITIZEN:

We have ever your good word.

MARCIUS:

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 ic,

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?

MENENIUS:

For corn at their own rates; whereof they say

The city is well stor'd.

MARCIUS:

Hang 'em! They say!

They'll sit by th' 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.

MENENIUS:

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?

MARCIUS:

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.

MENENIUS:

What is granted them?

MARCIUS:

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.

MENENIUS:

This is strange.

MARCIUS:

Go get you home, you fragments!

[Enter a MESSENGER, hastily.]

MESSENGER:

Where's Caius Marcius?

MARCIUS:

Here: what's the matter?

MESSENGER:

The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.

MARCIUS:

I am glad on't: then we shall ha' means to vent

Our musty superfluity.—See, our best elders.

[Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other SENATORS; JUNIUS BRUTUSand SICINIUS VELUTUS.]

FIRST SENATOR:

Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us:—

The Volsces are in arms.

MARCIUS:

They have a leader,

Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't.

I sin in envying his nobility;

And were I anything but what I am,

I would wish me only he.

COMINIUS:

You have fought together.

MARCIUS:

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.

FIRST SENATOR:

Then, worthy Marcius,

Attend upon Cominius to these wars.

COMINIUS:

It is your former promise.

MARCIUS:

Sir, it is;

And I am constant.—Titus Lartius, thou

Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.

What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?

TITUS LARTIUS:

No, Caius Marcius;

I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with the other

Ere stay behind this business.

MENENIUS:

O, true bred!

FIRST SENATOR:

Your company to the Capitol; where, I know,

Our greatest friends attend us.

TITUS LARTIUS:

Lead you on.

Follow, Cominius; we must follow you;

Right worthy your priority.

COMINIUS:

Noble Marcius!

FIRST SENATOR:

Hence to your homes; be gone!

[To the Citizens.]

MARCIUS:

Nay, let them follow:

The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither

To gnaw their garners.—Worshipful mutineers,

Your valour puts well forth: pray follow.

[Exeunt Senators, COM., MAR, TIT., and MENEN. Citizens stealaway.]

SICINIUS:

Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?

BRUTUS:

He has no equal.

SICINIUS:

When we were chosen tribunes for the people,—

BRUTUS:

Mark'd you his lip and eyes?

SICINIUS:

Nay, but his taunts!

BRUTUS:

Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the gods.

SICINIUS:

Bemock the modest moon.

BRUTUS:

The present wars devour him: he is grown

Too proud to be so valiant.

SICINIUS:

Such a nature,

Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow

Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder

His insolence can brook to be commanded

Under Cominius.

BRUTUS:

Fame, at the which he aims,—

In whom already he is well grac'd,—cannot

Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by

A place below the first: for what miscarries

Shall be the general's fault, though he perform

To th' utmost of a man; and giddy censure

Will then cry out of Marcius 'O, if he

Had borne the business!'

SICINIUS:

Besides, if things go well,

Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall

Of his demerits rob Cominius.

BRUTUS:

Come:

Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,

Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults

To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed,

In aught he merit not.

SICINIUS:

Let's hence and hear

How the dispatch is made; and in what fashion,

More than in singularity, he goes

Upon this present action.

BRUTUS:

Let's along.

[Exeunt.]