READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, scene i |
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Act I, Scene i:
Rome. A street.
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.] |
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