What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?
Messenger: Whoever guards our noble prince's house,780
Let him defend it from the people's rage.
Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,
To save the city from the furious mob
Whose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.
Chorus: What is the madness that inflames their hearts?785
Messenger: The people for their loved Octavia
Are wild with rage and grief; and now in throngs
Are rushing forth in mood for any deed.