SULPITIUS. Grave senators, and fathers of this state, Our strange protractions and unkind delays Where weighty wars doth call us out to fight, Our factious wits, to please aspiring lords, (You see) have added power unto our foes, And hazarded rich Phrygia and Bithinia, With all our Asian holds and cities too. Thus Sylla seeking to be general, Who is invested in our consul's pall,[101] Hath forced murders in a quiet state; The cause whereof even Pompey may complain, Who, seeking to advance a climbing friend, Hath lost by death a sweet and courteous son. Who now in Asia but Mithridates Laughs at these fond dissensions I complain? While we, in wrangling for a general, Forsake our friends, forestal our forward war, And leave our legions full of dalliance: Waiting our idle wills at Capua. Fie, Romans! shall the glories of your names, The wondrous beauty of this capitol, Perish through Sylla's insolence and pride; As if that Rome were robb'd of true renown, And destitute of warlike champions now? Lo, here the man, the rumour of whose fame, Hath made Iberia tremble and submit: See Marius, that in managing estate, Though many cares and troubles he hath pass'd, And spent his youth, upon whose reverend head The milk-white pledge of wisdom sweetly spreads. He, six times consul, fit for peace or war, Sits drooping here, content to brook disgrace, Who glad to fight through follies of his foes Sighs for your shame, whilst you abide secure. And I that see and should recure these wrongs, Through Pompey's late vacation and delay, Have left to publish him for general, That merits better titles far than these. But, nobles, now the final day is come, When I, your tribune, studying for renown, Pronounce and publish Marius general, To lead our legions against Mithridates, And crave, grave fathers, signs of your content. Q. POMPEY. Believe me, noble Romans and grave senators, This strange election, and this new-made law Will witness our unstable government, And dispossess Rome of her empery: For although Marius be renown'd in arms, Famous for prowess, and grave in warlike drifts, Yet may the sunshine of his former deeds Nothing eclipse our Sylla's dignity. By lot and by election he was made Chief general against Mithridates, And shall we then abridge him of that rule? 'Twere injury to Sylla and to Rome: Nor would the height of his all-daring mind Brook to the death so vile and foul disgrace.