Bru. Ædiles, seize him.
Cit. Yield, Marcius, yield.
Men. Hear me, one word. Beseech you, tribunes, hear me, but a word.
Ædiles. Peace, peace.
Men. Be that you seem, truly your country's friend,
And temperately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.
Bru. Sir, those cold ways
That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous.
Where the disease is violent.—Lay hands upon him,
And bear him to the rock.
Cor. No: I'll die here. [Drawing his sword.]
There's some among you have beheld me fighting;
Come try upon yourselves, what you have seen me.
Men. DOWN with THAT SWORD; tribunes, withdraw awhile.
Bru. Lay hands upon him.
Men. Help, help, MARCIUS, help! You that be NOBLE, help him, young and old.