Sicin. 'Tis this Slaue: Go whip him fore the peoples eyes: His raising, Nothing but his report Mes. Yes worthy Sir, The Slaues report is seconded, and more More fearfull is deliuer'd Sicin. What more fearefull? Mes. It is spoke freely out of many mouths, How probable I do not know, that Martius Ioyn'd with Auffidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, And vowes Reuenge as spacious, as betweene The yong'st and oldest thing Sicin. This is most likely Bru. Rais'd onely, that the weaker sort may wish Good Martius home againe Sicin. The very tricke on't Mene. This is vnlikely, He, and Auffidius can no more attone Then violent'st Contrariety. Enter Messenger. Mes. You are sent for to the Senate: A fearefull Army, led by Caius Martius, Associated with Auffidius, Rages Vpon our Territories, and haue already O're-borne their way, consum'd with fire, and tooke What lay before them. Enter Cominius. Com. Oh you haue made good worke Mene. What newes? What newes? Com. You haue holp to rauish your owne daughters, & To melt the Citty Leades vpon your pates, To see your Wiues dishonour'd to your Noses Mene. What's the newes? What's the newes? Com. Your Temples burned in their Ciment, and Your Franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd Into an Augors boare Mene. Pray now, your Newes: You haue made faire worke I feare me: pray your newes, If Martius should be ioyn'd with Volceans Com. If? He is their God, he leads them like a thing Made by some other Deity then Nature, That shapes man Better: and they follow him Against vs Brats, with no lesse Confidence, Then Boyes pursuing Summer Butter-flies, Or Butchers killing Flyes Mene. You haue made good worke, You and your Apron men: you, that stood so much Vpon the voyce of occupation, and The breath of Garlicke-eaters Com. Hee'l shake your Rome about your eares Mene. As Hercules did shake downe Mellow Fruite: You haue made faire worke Brut. But is this true sir? Com. I, and you'l looke pale Before you finde it other. All the Regions Do smilingly Reuolt, and who resists Are mock'd for valiant Ignorance, And perish constant Fooles: who is't can blame him? Your Enemies and his, finde something in him Mene. We are all vndone, vnlesse The Noble man haue mercy Com. Who shall aske it? The Tribunes cannot doo't for shame; the people Deserue such pitty of him, as the Wolfe Doe's of the Shepheards: For his best Friends, if they Should say be good to Rome, they charg'd him, euen As those should do that had deseru'd his hate, And therein shew'd like Enemies Me. 'Tis true, if he were putting to my house, the brand That should consume it, I haue not the face To say, beseech you cease. You haue made faire hands, You and your Crafts, you haue crafted faire Com. You haue brought A Trembling vpon Rome, such as was neuer S' incapeable of helpe Tri. Say not, we brought it