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[Scene VII.]

Enter Auffidius with his Lieutenant.

Do they ſtill ſlye to'th'Roman?

I do not know what Witchcraft's in him: but
Your Soldiers vſe him as the Grace 'fore meate,
Their talke at Table, and their Thankes at end,
And you are darkned in this action Sir,
Euen by your owne.

I cannot helpe it now,
Vnleſſe by vſing meanes I lame the foote
Of our deſigne. He beares himſelfe more proudlier,
Euen to my perſon, then I thought he would
When firſt I did embrace him. Yet his Nature
In that's no Changeling, and I muſt excuſe
What cannot be amended.

Yet I wiſh Sir,
(I meane for your particular) you had not
Ioyn'd in Commiſſion with him: but either haue borne
The action of your ſelfe, or elſe to him, had left it ſoly.

I vnderſtand thee well, and be thou ſure
When he ſhall come to his account, he knowes not
What I can vrge againſt him, although it ſeemes
And ſo he thinkes, and is no leſſe apparant
To th'vulgar eye, that he beares all things fairely:
And ſhewes good Husbandry for the Volcian State,
Fights Dragon-like, and does atcheeue as ſoone
As draw his Sword: yet he hath left vndone
That which ſhall breake his necke, or hazard mine,
When ere we come to our account.

Sir, I beſeech you, think you he'l carry Rome?

All places yeelds to him ere he ſits downe,
And theiNobility of Rome are his:
The Senators and Patricians loue him too:
The Tribunes are no Soldiers: and their people
Will be as raſh in the repeale, as haſty
To expell him thence. I thinke hee'l be to Rome
As is the Aſpray to the Fiſh, who takes it
By Soueraignty of Nature. Firſt, he was
A Noble ſeruant to them, but he could not
Carry his Honors eeuen: whether 'was Pride
Which out of dayly Fortune euer taints
The happy man; whether detect of iudgement,
To faile in the diſpoſing of thoſe chances
Which he was Lord of: or whether Nature,
Not to be other then one thing, not moouing
From th'Caske to th'Cuſhion: but commanding peace
Euen with the ſame auſterity and garbe,
As he controll'd the warre. But one of theſe
(As he hath ſpices of them all) not all,
For I dare ſo farre free him, made him fear'd,
So hated, and ſo baniſh'd: but he ha's a Merit
To choake it in the vtt'rance: So our Vertue,
Lie in th'interpretation of the time,
And power vnto it ſelfe moſt commendable,
Hath not a Tombe ſo euident as a Chaire
T'extoll what it hath done.
One fire driues out one fire; one Naile, one Naile;
Rights by rights fouler, ſtrengths by ſtrengths do faile.
Come let's away: when Caius Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'ſt of all; then ſhortly art thou mine. exeunt

load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, Jr., A. B.; Litt. D.)
load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, Jr., A. B.; Litt. D.)
load focus English (W. G. Clark, W. Aldis Wright)
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