MARIUS. Cinna, you know I am a private man,
That still submit my censures to your will.
CINNA. Then, soldiers, draw this traitor from the throne,
And let him die, for Cinna wills it so.
YOUNG MARIUS. Ay, now, my Cinna, noble consul, speaks.
Octavius, your checks shall cost you dear.
OCTAVIUS. And let me die, for Cinna wills it so!
Is then the reverence of this robe contemn'd?
Are these associates of so small regard?
Why then, Octavius willingly consents
To entertain the sentence of his death.
But let the proudest traitor work his will;
I fear no strokes, but here will sit me still.
Since justice sleeps, since tyrants reign in Rome,
Octavius longs for death to die in Rome.
CINNA. Then strike him where he sits; then hale him hence.
OCTAVIUS. Heavens punish Cinna's pride and thy offence.
[A Soldier stabs him; he is carried away.
CINNA. Now is he fallen that threaten'd Marius;
Now will I sit and plead for Marius.
MARIUS. Thou dost me justice, Cinna, for you see
These peers of Rome of[137] late exiled me.
LEPIDUS. Your lordship doth injustice to accuse
Those, who in your behalf did not offend.