VIRGILIA. [_To Brutus_.] You shall stay too. I would I had the power To say so to my husband. SICINIUS. Are you mankind? VOLUMNIA. Ay, fool, is that a shame? Note but this, fool. Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship To banish him that struck more blows for Rome Than thou hast spoken words? SICINIUS. O blessed heavens! VOLUMNIA. More noble blows than ever thou wise words, And for Rome’s good. I’ll tell thee what—yet go. Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son Were in Arabia and thy tribe before him, His good sword in his hand. SICINIUS. What then? VIRGILIA. What then? He’d make an end of thy posterity. VOLUMNIA. Bastards and all. Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! MENENIUS. Come, come, peace. SICINIUS. I would he had continued to his country As he began, and not unknit himself The noble knot he made. BRUTUS. I would he had. VOLUMNIA. “I would he had?” ’Twas you incensed the rabble. Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth As I can of those mysteries which heaven Will not have Earth to know. BRUTUS. Pray, let’s go. VOLUMNIA. Now, pray, sir, get you gone. You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this: As far as doth the Capitol exceed The meanest house in Rome, so far my son— This lady’s husband here, this, do you see?— Whom you have banished, does exceed you all. BRUTUS. Well, well, we’ll leave you. SICINIUS. Why stay we to be baited With one that wants her wits? [_Exeunt Tribunes._] VOLUMNIA. Take my prayers with you. I would the gods had nothing else to do But to confirm my curses. Could I meet ’em But once a day, it would unclog my heart Of what lies heavy to’t. MENENIUS. You have told them home, And, by my troth, you have cause. You’ll sup with me? VOLUMNIA. Anger’s my meat. I sup upon myself And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let’s go. Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do, In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. [_Exeunt._] MENENIUS. Fie, fie, fie! [_Exit Menenius._] SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium Enter a Roman and a Volsce. ROMAN. I know you well, sir, and you know me. Your name I think is Adrian. VOLSCE. It is so, sir. Truly, I have forgot you. ROMAN. I am a Roman, and my services are, as you are, against ’em. Know you me yet? VOLSCE. Nicanor, no? ROMAN. The same, sir. VOLSCE. You had more beard when I last saw you, but your favour is well approved by your tongue. What’s the news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state to find you out there. You have well saved me a day’s journey. ROMAN. There hath been in Rome strange insurrections, the people against the senators, patricians, and nobles. VOLSCE. Hath been? Is it ended, then? Our state thinks not so. They are in a most warlike preparation and hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.