ALLOBROGES

I, these men Seem of another raze; Let's sue to these There's hope of justice, with their fortitude. We could not hope for more, most worthy Consul. This Magistrate hath struck and awe into me, And, by his sweetness, won a more reguard Unto his place, then all the boisterous moods That ignorant Greatness practiseth, to fill The large, unfit authority it wears. How easy is a noble spirit discerned From harsh, and sulphurous matter, that flies out In contumelies, makes a noise, and stinks. May we find good, and great men, that know how To stoop to wants, and meet necessities, And will not turn from any equal suits. " Such men, they do not succour more the cause, " They undertake, with favour, and success; " Then, by it, their own I dgments they do raise, " In turning joust men's needs, into their praise. We covet nothing more, most worthy Consul. And how so ere we have been tempted lately, To a defection, that not makes us guilty: We are not yet so wretched in our Fortune's, Nor in our wills so lost, as to abandon A friendship, prodigally, of that price, As is the Senate, and the People of Rome's, For Hope's, that do praecipitate themselves. We are to meet anon, at Brutus house. Cheerfully, and firmly. We are they, would rather hast to undertake it, Then stay, to say so. Yes. WHen come these Creatures, the Ambassad rs? I would feign see them. Are they any Scholars? He is a Mars. Would we had time to live here, and admire him. We are the Allobroges, And friends of Room. We yield. Yes Father's, and they took and oath, to us. Beside their letters, that we should be free; And urged us, for some present aid of horse. No Publius? we were with you, At Brutus house. Your self did. We had letters From you, Cethegus, this Statilius here, Gabinius Cimber, all, but from Longinus, Who would not write, because he was to come Shortly, in person, after us (he said) To take the charge o'the horse, which we should levy. You told us too, o'the Sibyl's books And how you were to be a King, this year, The twentieth, from the burning of the Capitol. That three Cornelii were to reign, in Room, Of which you were the last: and praised Cethegus, And the great spirits, were with you, in the Actium. Beside Gabinius, your Agent, named Autronius, Servius Sulla, Vargunteius, And diverse others. CAn these men fear? who are not only ours, But the world's Master's? Then I see, the Gods Upbraid our sufferings, or would humble them; By sending these affrights, while we are here: That we might laugh at their ridiculous fear, Whose names, we trembled at, beyond the Alps. Of all that pass, I do not see a face Worthy a man, that dares look up, and stand One thunder out; but downward all, Like beasts, Running away from every flash is made. The falling world could not deserve such baseness. Are we employed here, by our Misery's, Like superstitious fools (or rather slaves) To plain our griefs, wrongs, and oppressions, To a mere clothed Senate, whom our folly Hath made, and still intends to keep our Tyrants? It is our base petitionary breath That blows them to this greatness; which this prick Would soon let out, if we were bold, and wretched. When they have taken all we have; our goods, Crop, lands, and houses, they will leave us this: A weapon, and and arm will still be found, Though naked left, and lower then the ground. Do; urge thine anger, still; good Heaven, and joust. Tell guilty men, what powers are above them. In such a confidence of wickedness, 'Twas time, they should know something fit to fear.