3

Mar. I curse my slow speed That made mine eye a stranger to these sights. Ruf. Rather adore that deity that detained you. Mar. Do you then malign his happiness, Young Tullius' honours, and my sovereign's grace? Ruf. Do we! Who does not? and contemn them too,

As

Mar. I do you,

Or any that true worth shall emulate.*
I know young Tullius is a noble youth,
Endued with virtues and perfections
Fitting to rank with our best Roman blood.
Ruf. Leont. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Do you laugh?

By all our gods, Rufinus, Tullius' merits
Deserve those graces are bestowed upon him
Better than any one that envies them.
Ruf. How, Marius ?

Mar. Pish! 'gainst the winds look big.

Do you then malign then his happiness.] So the MS,

4 Or any that true worth shall emulate.] This verb is here used plainly for envy; and this passage supports Mr Malone's interpretation of emulous in the following passage of Troilus and Cressida, viz. envious: "A good quarrel to draw emulous factions, and bleed to death upon." Steevens says this signifies merely rival factions. The word occurs again, with the same sense, in the third scene of this act :

Your great lord, for such is the king's love,
Must go as general to correct their pride,

An honour that great princes emulate.

Mar.] Here the original MS. begins, the preceding speeches being written in a somewhat later hand-writing.-See the Introduction.

Enter LEARCHUS.

Learch, That bigness blew me hither.
Ruf. In post, Learchus ?

Learch. 'Foot! had I wings like Perseus, and
could fly,

I were too slow-paced to divulge this news.
Leont. What is't, i' th' name of wonder?
Learch. For firm truth,

The Sabines are in arms, whose stubborn necks
These many years stooped to the yoke of Rome,
Now shake their fetters off, and with sharp steel
Swear to enlarge their former privilege.
Ruf. This your tidings?

The expectation takes the strangeness off:
It has been long suspected.

Learch. You're too greedy,

And glut your appetites with the first dish:
I have a feast of news yet.

Who do you think is chosen general,

And command given for a present press,
Of our most ablest, expert soldiers,

Ten thousand horse, and twenty thousand foot,
To quell this hot rebellion?

Ruf. Who but we?

Learch. You have been.

Ruf. May be thyself, Learchus ?

Learch. No, no, no.

Ruf. Then 'tis Leontius?

Learch. You are wider still.

Ruf. Who else is fit to bear't, and we put by?

Learch. Who but the warlike Tullius?

Ruf. That milksop! Sure the king

Will make an idol of him.'

Learch. Who should command but he that awes command?

Tullius is general, and, with greatest pomp,
Is coming this way; the king leaning thus
Upon his soldier: eyeing as they pass
The looks and gestures of each gazer-on,
How they relish his election.

Ruf. But rawly, without salt;

They have a fresh soldier to their general.' Mar. Your bitterness makes the digestion harsh:

In my conceit, he that endeavours well, Though he come short of him that hath performed

Something worth praise, deserves far more commends

Than those that boast their actions; it takes off
The lustre that belongs to't. Pardon me
If I make question of your loyalties,

That dare disparage thus my sovereign's choice
Of his respected subjects: it infers

A doubt made of his wisdom. Why should we
Tax the prerogative pleasures of our prince?
Whom he shall grace, or where bestow his favours?
That law's allowed to every private man:
Then, to confine or disallow a king,
Were most injurious and preposterous.
For as ******** as they're gods,
They are subject to their passions as they're men:
Alexander the Great had his Hephestion,
Philip of Spain his Lerma: Not to offend,
I could produce from courts that I have seen
More royal precedents," but I'll not give

6 For as *

in the MS. in this line.

7

Not to offend,

as their gods.] There is a lacuna left

I could produce from courts that I have seen

More royal precedents, &c.] This seems plainly to allude to

Such satisfaction to detractive tongues,
That publish such foul noise against a man
I know for truly virtuous.

'Ruf. Learch. Leon. Ha, ha, ha !

Learch. What's he

That takes upon him thus to contradict
What we shall please to censure?
Ruf. "Tis young Marius,

He that was severed from fair Lelia,
Old Tullius' daughter.

Learch. Alas, poor lover! these are frantic fits: He adores Tullius for his sister's sake.'

Ruf. Now the great general comes.
Leon. How fierce he looks!

Enter MARCELLUS, leading; Drums and Colours ;. TITUS MARTIUS, MARCUS TULLIUS, ARMANUS, Soldiers, and Attendants.

Mar. The blessings of the gods be multiplied To add increase of glory and renown To Titus Martius, my dread sovereign, And to the general, fame, and victory.

Titus. Thy last fair wish begets a double thanks. Rise, Marius.

Thy virtue was the harbinger to prepare

A welcome to thy country; but to us

That exiled thee from Rome, and from thy bliss,
The beauteous Lelia, our command shall crown
Your loves with a rich dowry; she is thine.
Mar. A bounty, sir, I prize above my life.
All joys reward you, noble Tullius.

M. Tul. Welcome as what I long for, victory !'

the favoritism of King James I. The very gross and absurd anachronisms in this speech have been already noticed in the prelimi nary remarks on this play.

Arm. With like arms I embrace you.

All. So do all.

Ruf. There's a young demi-god too: With what grace

The king doth entertain him!

Learch. Oh, my lord,

Must he not be allied to Tullius?

Ruf. I cry you mercy, I had forgot that.
Leon. 'Foot, we're not minded here; these dung-
hill-cocks

Flutter their feathers so before his eyes,
He does or will not see us.

Ruf. It is no matter: let 'em use their wings,
We shall sit heavily upon their skirts for❜t.-
Titus. We'll leave our Tullius now, and back to

court:

Time must allow some hours for a kind leave 'Twixt you and your fair bride; 'we'll not be by To see so sad a parting.'

M. Tull. Royal sir,

'Howe'er the thought of danger may beget Some sorrow for my absence, being divorced Ere Hymen's rites are fully finished;

Yet, when her love shall look upon the cause Commands my service, and this three-fold grace Conferred on me by you, she will with smiles Turn from me; her chief care

Is of my honour, not my dalliance.

'Titus. Thou deifiest her with this character; Yet she deserves a larger.' Farewell Marcus, Mars guide thy marches, Peace thy footsteps home!

M. Tull. I live but for your safety.".

Titus. Ours in thine.

Ruf. Leon. Learch. Ha, ha, ha!

[Exit. [Exeunt.

Mar. [Detaining TULLIUS.] Could you dis

pense, sir, with your high affairs,