[Enter CAIUS MARCIUS]

Hail, noble Marcius!

MARCIUS Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,

That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,

Make yourselves scabs?

First Citizen We have ever your good word.

MARCIUS He that will give good words to thee will flatter

Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,

That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,

The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, 160

Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;

Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,

Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is

To make him worthy whose offence subdues him

And curse that justice did it.

Who deserves greatness

Deserves your hate; and your affections are

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that

Which would increase his evil. He that depends 170

Upon your favours swims with fins of lead

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye?

With every minute you do change a mind,

And call him noble that was now your hate,

Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter,

That in these several places of the city

You cry against the noble senate, who,

Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else

Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?

MENENIUS For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,

The city is well stored.

MARCIUS Hang 'em! They say! 180

They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know

What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise,

Who thrives and who declines; side factions

and give out

Conjectural marriages; making parties strong

And feebling such as stand not in their liking

Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's

grain enough!

Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,

And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry

With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high

As I could pick my lance. 190

MENENIUS Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;

For though abundantly they lack discretion,

Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,

What says the other troop?

MARCIUS They are dissolved: hang 'em!

They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs,

That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,

That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not

Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds

They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,

And a petition granted them, a strange one-- 200

To break the heart of generosity,

And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps

As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,

Shouting their emulation.