Men. What's the news? what's the news? 85
Com. Your temples burned in their cement, and[3617]
Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined
Into an auger's bore.[3618]
Men. Pray now, your news?—
You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news?—
If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,—[3619]
Com. If![3620] 90
He is their god: he leads them like a thing[3620]
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no less confidence
Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, 95
Or butchers killing flies.
Men. You have made good work,[3621]
You and your apron-men; you that stood so much[3622]
Upon the voice of occupation and
The breath of garlic-eaters!
Com. He'll shake your Rome about your ears.[3623]
Men. As Hercules[3624] 100
Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made fair work![3624]
Bru. But is this true, sir?
Com. Ay; and you'll look pale
Before you find it other. All the regions[3625]
Do smilingly revolt; and who resist[3626]
Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,[3627] 105
And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?[3628]
Your enemies and his find something in him.[3628]
Men. We are all undone, unless[3628][3629]
The noble man have mercy.