ANTHONY. My Sylla, scarce those tears are dried up, That Roman matrons wept to see this war: Along the holy streets the hideous groans Of murdered men infect the weeping air: Thy foes are fled, not overtaken yet, And doubtful is the hazard of this war: Yea, doubtful is the hazard of this war, For now our legions draw their wasteful swords To murder whom? Even Roman citizens! To conquer whom? Even Roman citizens! Then, if that Sylla love these citizens, If care of Rome, if threat of foreign foes, If fruitful counsels of thy forward friends, May take effect, go fortunate, and drive The King of Pontus out of Asia; Lest, while we dream on civil mutinies, Our wary foes assail our city walls. POMPEY. My long-concealed thoughts, Mark Anthony, Must seek discovery through thy pliant words. Believe me, Sylla, civil mutinies Must not obscure thy glories and our names. Then, sith that factious Marius is suppress'd, Go spread thy colours 'midst the Asian fields; Meanwhile myself will watch this city's weal. SYLLA. Pompey, I know thy love, I mark thy words, And, Anthony, thou hast a pleasing vein; But, senators, I harbour[115] in my head With every thought of honour some revenge. _Enter LUCRETIUS with the head_. Speak, what, shall Sylla be your general? LEPIDUS. We do decree that Sylla shall be general? SYLLA. And wish you Sylla's weal and honour too? ANTHONY. We wish both Sylla's weal and honour too. SYLLA. Then take away the scandal of this state, Banish the name of tribune out of town; Proclaim false Marius and his other friends Foemen and traitors to the state of Rome, And I will wend and work so much by force, As I will master false Mithridates. LEPIDUS. The name of tribune hath continued long. SYLLA. So shall not Lepidus, if he withstand me. Sirrah, you see the head of Granius: Watch you his hap, unless you change your words. Pompey, now please me: Pompey, grant my suit. POMPEY. Lictors, proclaim this our undaunted doom. We will that Marius and his wretched sons: His friends Sulpitius, Claudius, and the rest Be held for traitors, and acquit the men, That shall endanger their unlucky lives; And henceforth tribune's name and state shall cease. Grave senators, how like you this decree? LEPIDUS. Even as our consuls wish, so let it be. SYLLA. Then, Lepidus, all friends in faith for me, So leave I Rome to Pompey and my friends, Resolv'd to manage those our Asian wars. Frolic, brave soldiers, we must foot it now: Lucretius, you shall bide the brunt with me. Pompey, farewell, and farewell, Lepidus. Mark Anthony, I leave thee to thy books; Study for Rome and Sylla's royalty. But, by my sword, I wrong this greybeard's head; Go, sirrah, place it on the capitol: A just promotion fit for Sylla's foe. Lordings, farewell: come, soldiers, let us go. [_Exit_. POMPEY. Sylla, farewell, and happy be thy chance, Whose war both Rome and Romans must advance. [_Exeunt Senators_.