nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome.
Will not you go?
I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--
'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither
How the world goes, that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey.
I shall, sir.
The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.
Good or bad?
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they
love not Marcius.
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Pray you, who does the wolf love?
The lamb.
Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the
noble Marcius.
He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.
He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two
are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
Well, sir.
In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two
have not in abundance?
He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
Especially in pride.
And topping all others in boasting.
This is strange now: do you two know how you are
censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the
right-hand file? do you?
Why, how are we censured?
Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry?
Well, well, sir, well.
Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for
being proud?
We do it not alone, sir.
I know you can do very little alone; for your helps
are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous
single: your abilities are too infant-like for
doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you
could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks,
and make but an interior survey of your good selves!
O that you could!
What then, sir?
Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools,