Brut. Dismisse them home. Here comes his Mother.
Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.
Sicin. Let's not meet her
Brut. Why?
Sicin. They say she's mad
Brut. They haue tane note of vs: keepe on your way
Volum. Oh y'are well met:
Th' hoorded plague a'th' Gods requit your loue
Menen. Peace, peace, be not so loud
Volum. If that I could for weeping, you should heare,
Nay, and you shall heare some. Will you be gone?
Virg. You shall stay too: I would I had the power
To say so to my Husband
Sicin. Are you mankinde?
Volum. I foole, is that a shame. Note but this Foole,
Was not a man my Father? Had'st thou Foxship
To banish him that strooke more blowes for Rome
Then thou hast spoken words
Sicin. Oh blessed Heauens!
Volum. Moe Noble blowes, then euer y wise words.
And for Romes good, Ile tell thee what: yet goe:
Nay but thou shalt stay too: I would my Sonne
Were in Arabia, and thy Tribe before him,
His good Sword in his hand
Sicin. What then?
Virg. When then? Hee'ld make an end of thy posterity
Volum. Bastards, and all.
Good man, the Wounds that he does beare for Rome!
Menen. Come, come, peace