MENENIUS

His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death.

A noise within

Here's goodly work!

Second Patrician

I would they were abed!

MENENIUS

I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!
Could he not speak 'em fair?

Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble

SICINIUS

Where is this viper
That would depopulate the city and
Be every man himself?

MENENIUS

You worthy tribunes,–

SICINIUS

He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
Than the severity of the public power
Which he so sets at nought.

First Citizen

He shall well know
The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
And we their hands.

Citizens

He shall, sure on't.

MENENIUS

Sir, sir,–

SICINIUS

Peace!

MENENIUS

Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt
With modest warrant.

SICINIUS

Sir, how comes't that you
Have holp to make this rescue?