Auf. Do they still flye to'th' Roman? Lieu. I do not know what Witchcraft's in him: but Your Soldiers vse him as the Grace 'fore meate, Their talke at Table, and their Thankes at end, And you are darkned in this action Sir, Euen by your owne

Auf. I cannot helpe it now, Vnlesse by vsing meanes I lame the foote Of our designe. He beares himselfe more proudlier, Euen to my person, then I thought he would When first I did embrace him. Yet his Nature In that's no Changeling, and I must excuse What cannot be amended

Lieu. Yet I wish Sir, (I meane for your particular) you had not Ioyn'd in Commission with him: but either haue borne The action of your selfe, or else to him, had left it soly

Auf. I vnderstand thee well, and be thou sure When he shall come to his account, he knowes not What I can vrge against him, although it seemes And so he thinkes, and is no lesse apparant To th' vulgar eye, that he beares all things fairely: And shewes good Husbandry for the Volcian State, Fights Dragon-like, and does atcheeue as soone As draw his Sword: yet he hath left vndone That which shall breake his necke, or hazard mine, When ere we come to our account

Lieu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'l carry Rome? Auf. All places yeelds to him ere he sits downe, And the Nobility of Rome are his: The Senators and Patricians loue him too: The Tribunes are no Soldiers: and their people Will be as rash in the repeale, as hasty To expell him thence. I thinke hee'l be to Rome As is the Aspray to the Fish, who takes it By Soueraignty of Nature. First, he was A Noble seruant to them, but he could not Carry his Honors eeuen: whether 'twas Pride Which out of dayly Fortune euer taints The happy man; whether detect of iudgement, To faile in the disposing of those chances Which he was Lord of: or whether Nature, Not to be other then one thing, not moouing From th' Caske to th' Cushion: but commanding peace Euen with the same austerity and garbe, As he controll'd the warre. But one of these (As he hath spices of them all) not all, For I dare so farre free him, made him fear'd, So hated, and so banish'd: but he ha's a Merit To choake it in the vtt'rance: So our Vertue, Lie in th' interpretation of the time, And power vnto it selfe most commendable, Hath not a Tombe so euident as a Chaire T' extoll what it hath done. One fire driues out one fire; one Naile, one Naile; Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do faile. Come let's away: when Caius Rome is thine, Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.


William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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