Cimb. We are no brokers.
Mar. Our lords are no gods—
Grac. They are devils to us, I am sure.
Mar. But subject to
Cold, hunger, and diseases.
Grac. In abundance.
Mar. Equal Nature fashion'd us
All in one mould. The bear serves not the bear,
Nor the wolf the wolf; 'twas odds of strength in tyrants
That pluck'd the first link from the golden chain
With which that Thing of Things[113] bound in the world.
Why then, since we are taught, by their examples,
To love our liberty, if not command,
Should the strong serve the weak, the fair, deform'd ones?
Or such as know the cause of things pay tribute
To ignorant fools? All's but the outward gloss,
And politic form, that does distinguish us.—
Cimbrio, thou art a strong man; if, in place
Of carrying burthens, thou hadst been train'd up
In martial discipline, thou might'st have proved
A general, fit to lead and fight for Sicily,
As fortunate as Timoleon.
Cimb. A little fighting
Will serve a general's turn.
Mar. Thou, Gracculo,
Hast fluency of language, quick conceit;
And, I think, cover'd with a senator's robe,
Formally set on the bench, thou wouldst appear
As brave a senator.
Grac. Would I had lands,
Or money to buy a place! and if I did not
Sleep on the bench with the drowsiest of them,
Play with my chain, look on my watch, and wear
A state beard, with my barber's help, rank with them
In their most choice peculiar gifts, degrade me,
And put me to drink water again, which, now
I have tasted wine, were poison!
Mar. 'Tis spoke nobly,
And like a gownman: none of these, I think too,
But would prove good burghers.