No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto
us. When we banished him, we respected not them;
he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
Enter a Messenger
Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house:
The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune
And hale him up
and down, all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.
Enter a second Messenger
What's the news?
Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd,
The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone:
day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
Ne'er through an
arch so hurried the blown tide,
As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you!
Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes,
Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans,
sun dance. Hark you!
A shout within
This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day:
This morning for ten
thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
Music still, with shouts
First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next,
Accept my thankfulness.
Sir, we have all
Great cause to give great thanks.
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