ANTHONY. Why then the senate's name, whose reverend rule Hath blazed our virtues 'midst the western isle, Must be obscur'd by Cinna's forced power. O citizens! are laws of country left? Is justice banish'd from this capitol? Must we, poor fathers, see your drooping bands Enter the sacred synod of this state? O brutish fond presumptions of this age! Rome! would the mischiefs might obscure my life, So I might counsel consuls to be wise. Why, countrymen, wherein consists this strife? Forsooth the younger citizens will rule; The old men's heads are dull and addle now; And in elections youth will bear the sway. O Cinna, see I not the woful fruits Of these ambitious stratagems begun? Each flattering tongue that dallieth pretty words Shall change our fortunes and our states at once. Had I ten thousand tongues to talk the care, So many eyes to weep their woful miss, So many pens to write these many wrongs, My tongue your thoughts, my eyes your tears, should move, My pen your pains by reason should approve. CINNA. Why, Anthony, seal up those sugar'd lips, For I will bring my purpose to effect. ANTHONY. Doth Cinna like to interrupt me, then? CINNA. Ay, Cinna, sir, will interrupt you now. I tell thee, Mark, old Marius is at hand, The very patron of this happy law, Who will revenge thy cunning eloquence. ANTHONY. I talk not, I, to please or him or thee, But what I speak, I think and practise too: 'Twere better Sylla learnt to mend in Rome, Than Marius come to tyrannise in Rome. OCTAVIUS. Nay, Marius shall not tyrannise in Rome, Old citizens; as Sylla late ordain'd, King Tullius' laws shall take their full effect: The best and aged men shall in their choice, Both bear the day, and firm [th'] election. CINNA. O brave! Octavius, you will beard me then, The elder consul and old Marius' friend; And these Italian freemen must be wrong'd. First shall the fruit of all thine honours fail, And this my poniard shall despatch thy life. LEPIDUS. Such insolence was never seen in Rome: Nought wanteth here but name to make a king. OCTAVIUS. Strike, villain, if thou list, for I am prest To make as deep a furrow in thy breast! YOUNG CITIZEN. The young men's voices shall prevail, my lords. OLD CITIZEN. And we will firm our honours by our bloods. [_Thunder_. ANTHONY. O false ambitious pride in young and old! Hark, how the heavens our follies hath controll'd. OLD CITIZEN. What, shall we yield for this religious fear? ANTHONY. If not religious fear, what may repress These wicked passions, wretched citizens? O Rome, poor Rome, unmeet for these misdeeds, I see contempt of heaven will breed a cross. Sweet Cinna, govern rage with reverence. [_Thunder_. O fellow-citizens, be more advis'd! LEPIDUS. We charge you, consuls, now dissolve the court; The gods condemn this brawl and civil jars. OCTAVIUS. We will submit our honours to their wills: You, ancient citizens, come follow me.