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Test3

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At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome.
First Soldier:
Will not you go?
AUFIDIUS:
I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--
'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither
How the world goes, that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey.
First Soldier:
I shall, sir.
MENENIUS:
The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.
BRUTUS:
Good or bad?
MENENIUS:
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they
love not Marcius.
SICINIUS:
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
MENENIUS:
Pray you, who does the wolf love?
SICINIUS:
The lamb.
MENENIUS:
Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the
noble Marcius.
BRUTUS:
He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.
MENENIUS:
He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two
are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
Both:
Well, sir.
MENENIUS:
In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two
have not in abundance?
BRUTUS:
He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
SICINIUS:
Especially in pride.
BRUTUS:
And topping all others in boasting.
MENENIUS:
This is strange now: do you two know how you are
censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the
right-hand file? do you?
Both:
Why, how are we censured?
MENENIUS:
Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry?
Both:
Well, well, sir, well.
MENENIUS:
Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for
being proud?
BRUTUS:
We do it not alone, sir.
MENENIUS:
I know you can do very little alone; for your helps
are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous
single: your abilities are too infant-like for
doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you
could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks,
and make but an interior survey of your good selves!
O that you could!
BRUTUS:
What then, sir?