Act 4 - Scene 7
A camp, at a small distance from Rome.
Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant AUFIDIUS
Do they still fly to the Roman? Lieutenant
I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, Their talk at
table, and their thanks at end; And you are darken'd in this action, sir, Even by your own. AUFIDIUS
I cannot help it now, Unless, by using means, I lame the foot Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, Even
to my person, than I thought he would When first I did embrace him: yet his nature In that's no changeling; and
I must excuse What cannot be amended. Lieutenant
Yet I wish, sir, I mean for your particular, you had not Join'd in commission with him; but either Had borne
the action of yourself, or else To him had left it solely. AUFIDIUS
I understand thee well; and be thou sure, when he shall come to his account, he knows not What I can
urge against him. Although it seems, And so he thinks, and is no less apparent To the vulgar eye, that
he bears all things fairly. And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, Fights dragon-like, and does
achieve as soon As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone That which shall break his neck or hazard
mine, Whene'er we come to our account. Lieutenant
Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? AUFIDIUS
All places yield to him ere he sits down; And the nobility of Rome are his: The senators and patricians
love him too: The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty To expel
him thence. I think he'll be to Rome As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it By sovereignty of nature.
First he was A noble servant to them; but he could not Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, Which
out of daily fortune ever taints The happy man; whether defect of judgment, To fail in the disposing of those
chances Which he was lord of; or whether nature, Not to be other than one thing, not moving From the
casque to the cushion, but commanding peace Even with the same austerity and garb As he controll'd the
war; but one of these As he hath spices of them all, not all, For I dare so far free himmade him fear'd, So
hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit, To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues Lie in the interpretation
of the time: And power, unto itself most commendable, Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair To extol
what it hath done. One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths
do fail. Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.
Exeunt
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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