Marius. Go to thy senders, and from Marius, say, That, if they bare the weapon for my breast, Let them send hither one who has not yet Looked in a master’s eye. ’Tis not decreed That I shall perish yet, or by such hands As gather in Minturnæ. Get thee hence! —— _Public Hall of Minturnæ._ MAGISTRATES. THE CIMBRIAN. AUGUR. Cimbrian. I cannot slay this man. Give me to strike Some baser victim, or restore to me My chains. I cannot purchase at such price The freedom that I covet. Magistrate. Yet this man Conquered thy people. Cimbrian. He hath conquered me! Augur. And he must conquer still! His hour is not yet come. The Fates reserve His weapon for their service. They have need Of his avenging ministry, to purge The world of its corruptions. I behold A fearful vision of the terrible deeds That wait upon his arm. Let him go free. Give him due homage; clothe him with fresh robes; Speed him in secret with a chosen bark To other shores. So shall your city ’scape Rome’s wrath, and his hereafter. Magistrate. It is well: This counsel looks like wisdom. Augur. It is more! So the Gods speak through their interpreter. Magistrate. Release him straightway—send him forth in honor; We give him freedom—let the gods give safety. —— _Island of Ænaria._ MARIUS. CETHEGUS. Cethegus. Thou hast slept, Marius. Marius. And thou hast watched my sleep. Ah! truest friend and follower, not in vain; Dismiss that cloudy trouble from thy brows, The doubts that vex thy heart; for know that Fate Still has me in its keeping, and decrees Yet other deeds and conquests at my hand, And still one glorious triumph. I shall be Once more, in Rome, a Consul! When a child, Sporting, on summer slopes, beneath old hills, Seven infant eagles, from a passing cloud, Dropt clustering in my lap. The Augurs thence Gave me seven times the Roman Consulate. Cethegus. Thou hast had it six. Marius. One other yet remains. Cethegus. Alas! the Fates but mock thee with a dream; For know that, while thou sleptst, our treacherous bark Loosed sail, and left the shores. Marius. Gone! Cethegus. Clean from sight. Marius. Ha! ha! Now thank the gods that watch my sleep, And save me when the might of man would fail! Courage, my friend, that vessel speeds to wreck, Racked on some lurking rock beneath the wave, Or foundering in the tempest. We are safe! Cethegus. Thou’rt confident. Marius. As Fate and Hope can make me. Yet look! there is an omen. We must fly This place for other refuge. See the strife Betwixt these deadly scorpions on the sands. Cethegus. What read’st thou in this omen?