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With bats and clubs ? the matter - Speak, I pray

you. 2 Cit. Our business is not unknown to the Senate; they have had inkling, this fortnight, what we intend to do, which now we'll shew 'em in deeds : they say, poor Suiters have strong breaths ; they shall know, we have strong arms too. Men. Why, Masters, my good Friends, mine honest

Neighbours,
Will you undo your felves ?

2 Git. We cannot, Sir, we are undone already.
· Men. I tell you, Friends, most charitable care
Have the Patricians of you: For your wants,
Your sufferings in this Dearth, you may as well
Strike at the Heaven with your staves, as lift them
Against the Roman State, whose Course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand Curbs
Of more strong Links asunder, than can ever
Appear in your Impediment. For the Dearth,
The Gods, not the Patricians, make it; and
Your Knees to them (not Arms) muft help. Alack,
You are transported by Calamity
Thither, where more attends you; and you slander
The Helms o'th' State, who care for you, like Fa-

thers, When you curse them as Enemies.

2 Cit. Care for us! true, indeed! — they ne'er car'd for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their Storehouses cramm'd, with Grain : make Edicts for Ulury, to support Usurers ; repeal daily agy wholesome A& established against the Rich, and provide more piercing Statutes daily to chain up and reftrain the Poor. If the Wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. "Either you must
Confess your selves wond'rous malicious,
Or be accus’d of folly. I shall tell you
A pretty Tale, (it may be, you have heard it ;)
But since it serves my purpose, I will venture

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(1) To ftale't a little more.

.2 Cit. Well, I'll hear it, Sir yet you must not think To fob off our disgraces with a Tale : but, and't pleale you, deliver.

Men. There was a time, when all the body's members Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it; . Thar only, like a Gulf,' it did remain I'th' midit o'th' body, idle and unactive, Still cupboarding the Viand, never bearing Like labour with the rest, where th'other instruments

(1) To scale't a little more.] Thus all the Editions, but without any Manner of Sense, that I can find out. The Poet must have wrote, as I have corrected the Text : and then the Meaning will be plainly this. “ Perhaps, you may have heard my Tale already, but for all That, I'll venture to make it more ftale and familiar to You, by telling it over “ again.” And nothing is more common than the Verb in this Sense, with our three Capital Dramatic Poets. To begin, with our own Author." Anth. and Cleop.

Age cannot wither her, nor Custom ftale

Her infinite Variety: Jul. Cæs..

Were I a common Laugher, or did use

To stale with ordinary Oaths my Love &c.
And, again,

to and Imitations,
Which out of Use, and ftaled by other Men, , ,

Begin his Fashion.
So B. Jonson, in his Every Man in his Humour.

and not content
To ftale himself in all Societies,

He makes my House here common as a Mart.. . Cynthia's Revels.

I'll go tell all the Argument of his Play aforehand, and le ftale bis In-, vention to the Auditory, before it come forth. And so Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Beggar's Bufo. . But I jould lose my self to speak him further,

And ftale, in my Relation, the much Good

* You may be witness of. Queen of Corinth.

-- I'll not stale 'em,
By giving up their Charakters; but leave You

To make your own Discov'ries.
Wit at several Weapons.

You hall not be seen yet, we'll ftale your Friend first,
So please but him to fit and for thAnti mask.

Did see, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite, and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answer'd -

2 Cit. Well, Sir, what answer made the belly ?
Men. (2) Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of

: smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus -
(For, look you, I may make the belly finile,
As well as speak ) it tauntingly reply'd .
To th' difcontented Members, th’ mutinous Parts,
That envied his receit; even so most fitly,
As you malign our Senators, for that
They are not such as you --

2 Cit. Your belly's answer — what!
The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counfellor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our fteed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter;
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabrick, if that they --
· Men. What then? - Fore me, this fellow speaks.
What then? what then?

2 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain’d, Who is the Sink o'ch' body,

Men. Well, what then?

2 Cit. The former Agents, if they did complain, What could the belly answer?

Men. I will tell you, If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little ) . Patience, a while; you'll hear the belly's answer,

2 Cit. Y'are long about it. · Men. Note me this, good Friend; Your most grave belly was deliberate, Not rash, like his accusers; and thus answer'd; True is it, my incorporate Friends, quoth he,

- (2) Sir, I mall tell you with a kind of Smile,

Which ne'er came from the Lungs,) Thus all the Editors, most ftupidly, hitherto; as if Menenius were to smile in telling his Story, tho? the Lines, which immediately follow, make it evident that the Belly was meant to smile.

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That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
Because I am the store-house, and the shop
Of the whole body. But, if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood,
Even to the Court, the Heart; to th' seat o'th' brain ;
And, through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins, . .
From me receive that natural competency,
Whereby they live. And though that all at once,
You, my good Friends, (this says the belly) mark me-

2 Cit.'Ay, Şir, well, well.

Men. Though all at once cannot
See what I do deliver out to each,
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flow'r of all,
And leave me but the bran. What say you to't?

2 Cit. It was an answer ; -how apply you this?

Men. The Senators of Rome are this good belly, And you the mutinous Members; for examine Their Counsels, and their Cares; digest things rightly, Touching the weal o'th' Common; you shall find, No publick benefit, which you receive, But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you, And no way from your selves. What do you think? You, the great toe of this Assembly!

2 Cit. I the great toe! why, the great toe?

Men. For that, being one o'th' lowest, baseft, poorest, Of this most wise Rebellion, thou goeft formost: Thou rascal, that are worst in blood to run, Lead'At first, to win some vantage. But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs, Rome and her rats are at the point of battel : (3) The one side must have Bale.

Enter (3) The one Side must have Bail.] It muft be the vanquisht Side, sure, that could want it; and who were likely to be their Bail? But it is endless to question with Negligence and Stupidity. The Poet, undoubtedly wrote, as I have restor'd ;

The one Side must have Bale. i. c. Sorrow, Misfortune, must have the work of it, be discomfiţed. I

which you rechem to you, sink?

Enter Caius Marcius.
Hail, noble Marcius !
Mar. Thanks. What's the matter, you diffentious

rogues,
That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make your selves scabs?

2 Cit. We have ever your good word.
Mar. He, that will give good words to thee, will

flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you have, ye Curs,
That like nor peace, nor war? The one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
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,

have restor'd this Word in some other Passages of our Author; and we meet with it in a Play, attributed to him, cali'd Locrine :

Tea, with these Eyes thou hast seen her, and therefore pull them
ogt, for they will work thy Bale.
Mr. Rowe, indeed, in his Editions of our Poet, has erroneously printed
Bail too in this passage; but in the old Quarto which I have of Locrine,
printed in 1595, we find the Word spelt as it ought. And it was a Term
familiar both with Authors prior in Time, and Contemporaries with
Shakespeare.

and eke ber Fingirs long and smale
She wrong full oft, and bade God on her rue,
And with the Death to doe bote on her Bale: &çc.

Chaucer's Troil. and Crefeide. Book IV. verse 738.
And the black Holme, that loves the watry Vale,
And the sweet Cypress, fgn of deadly Bale.

Špenser's Translation of Virgil's Gnat.
And again,

Said He, what have I Wretch deferv'd, that thus
Into this bitter Bale I am out-caft.

Idem ibid.
Thus greatest Bliss is prone to greatest Bale.

First Chorus of Hercules Oetæus from Seneca; printed in 1581.
And least my Foe, false Promos bere,

Do interrupt my Tale ;
Grant, gracious King, that, uncontrould,
I may report my Bale.

Promos and Cassandra, (a Play,) printed in 1578.

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