Marcius complete text
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| Marcius. He that will give good words to thee will flatter | 1.1.163
| Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, | 1.1.164
| That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, | 1.1.165
| The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, | 1.1.166
| Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; | 1.1.167
| Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, | 1.1.168
| Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, | 1.1.169
| Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is | 1.1.170
| To make him worthy whose offence subdues him | 1.1.171
| And curse that justice did it. | 1.1.172
| Who deserves greatness | 1.1.173
| Deserves your hate; and your affections are | 1.1.174
| A sick man's appetite, who desires most that | 1.1.175
| Which would increase his evil. He that depends | 1.1.176
| Upon your favours swims with fins of lead | 1.1.177
| And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye? | 1.1.178
| With every minute you do change a mind, | 1.1.179
| And call him noble that was now your hate, | 1.1.180
| Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, | 1.1.181
| That in these several places of the city | 1.1.182
| You cry against the noble senate, who, | 1.1.183
| Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else | 1.1.184
| Would feed on one another? What's their seeking? | 1.1.185
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| Marcius. All the contagion of the south light on you, | 1.4.38
| You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues | 1.4.39
| Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd | 1.4.40
| Further than seen and one infect another | 1.4.41
| Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, | 1.4.42
| That bear the shapes of men, how have you run | 1.4.43
| From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! | 1.4.44
| All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale | 1.4.45
| With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home, | 1.4.46
| Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe | 1.4.47
| And make my wars on you: look to't: come on; | 1.4.48
| If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, | 1.4.49
| As they us to our trenches followed. | 1.4.50
Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates
| | So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: | 1.4.51
| 'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, | 1.4.52
| Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. | 1.4.53
Enters the gates
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| Marcius. See here these movers that do prize their hours | 1.5.4
| At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, | 1.5.5
| Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would | 1.5.6
| Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, | 1.5.7
| Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! | 1.5.8
| And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! | 1.5.9
| There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, | 1.5.10
| Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take | 1.5.11
| Convenient numbers to make good the city; | 1.5.12
| Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste | 1.5.13
| To help Cominius. | 1.5.14
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| Marcius. Those are they | 1.6.85
| That most are willing. If any such be here-- | 1.6.86
| As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting | 1.6.87
| Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear | 1.6.88
| Lesser his person than an ill report; | 1.6.89
| If any think brave death outweighs bad life | 1.6.90
| And that his country's dearer than himself; | 1.6.91
| Let him alone, or so many so minded, | 1.6.92
| Wave thus, to express his disposition, | 1.6.93
| And follow Marcius. | 1.6.94
They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps
| | O, me alone! make you a sword of me? | 1.6.95
| If these shows be not outward, which of you | 1.6.96
| But is four Volsces? none of you but is | 1.6.97
| Able to bear against the great Aufidius | 1.6.98
| A shield as hard as his. A certain number, | 1.6.99
| Though thanks to all, must I select | 1.6.100
| from all: the rest | 1.6.101
| Shall bear the business in some other fight, | 1.6.102
| As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; | 1.6.103
| And four shall quickly draw out my command, | 1.6.104
| Which men are best inclined. | 1.6.105
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