YOUNG MARIUS. I go, my lord, in hope to make the world Report my service and my duty too; And that proud challenger of Asia Shall find that Marius' son hath force and wit. [_Exit cum_ CETHEGO. MARIUS. Go, thou, as fortunate as Greeks to Troy; As glorious as Alcides in thy toils; As happy as Sertorius in thy fight; As valiant as Achilles in thy might: Go, glorious, valiant, happy, fortunate, As all those Greeks and him of Roman state! _Enter, led in with Soldiers_, CORNELIA and FULVIA. CORNELIA. Traitors! why drag you thus a prince's wife, As if that beauty were a thrall to fate? Are Romans grown more barbarous than Greeks, That hate more greater than Cassandra now? The Macedonian monarch was more kind, That honour'd and reliev'd in warlike camp Darius' mother, daughters, and his wife. But you unkind to Roman ladies now, Perhaps as constant as the ancient queens; For they, subdu'd, had friendship in disgrace, Where we, unconquer'd, live in woful case. MARIUS. What plaintive pleas presents that lady there? Why, soldiers, make you prisoners here in Rome? 1ST SOLDIER. Dread consul, we have found Cornelia here And Sylla's daughter posting out of town. MARIUS. Ladies of worth, both beautiful and wise, But near allied unto my greatest foe: Yet Marius' mind, that never meant disgrace, More likes their courage than their comely face. Are you Cornelia, madam, Sylla's wife? CORNELIA. I am Cornelia, Sylla's wife; what then? MARIUS. And is this Fulvia, Sylla's daughter, too? FULVIA. And this is Fulvia, Sylla's daughter, too. MARIUS. Two welcome guests, in whom the majesty Of my conceit and courage must consist. What think you, senators and countrymen? See, here are two, the fairest stars of Rome. The dearest dainties of my warlike foe, Whose lives upon your censures do subsist.[139] LEPIDUS. Dread consul, the continuance of their lives Shall egg on Sylla to a greater haste; And, in bereaving of their vital breath, Your grace shall force more fury from your foe. Of these extremes we leave the choice to you. MARIUS. Then think that some strange fortune shall ensue. FULVIA. Poor Fulvia, now thy happy days are done! Instead of marriage pomp, the fatal lights Of funerals must masque about thy bed: Nor shall thy father's arms with kind embrace Hem in thy shoulders, trembling now for fear. I see in Marius' looks such tragedies, As fear my heart; and fountains fill mine eyes. CORNELIA. Fie, Fulvia! shall thy father's daughter faint, Before the threats of danger shall approach? Dry up those tears, and like a Roman maid, Be bold and silent, till our foe have said. MARIUS. Cornelia, wife unto my traitor-foe, What gadding mood hath forc'd thy speedy flight To leave thy country, and forsake thy friends?