Auf.
Do they still fly to th' Roman?

Lieut.
I do not know what witchcraft's in him; but
Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
And you are darken'd in this action, Sir,
Even by your own.

Auf.
I cannot help it, now,
Unless, by using means, I lame the foot
Of our design. He bears himself more proudly,
Even to my person, than I thought he would,
When first I did embrace him. Yet his nature
In that's no changling, and I must excuse
What cannot be amended.

Lieut.
Yet I with, Sir,
(I mean for your particular) you had not
Join'd in commission with him; but had borne
The action of your self, or else to him
Had left it solely.

Auf.
I understand thee well, and be thou sure,
When he shall come to his account, he knows not
What I can urge against him: though it seems,
And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly,
And shews good husbandry for the Volscians state,
Fights dragon-like, and does atchieve, as soon
As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone

That which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
Whene'er we come to our account.† ^note

Lieut.
Sir, I beseech, think you he'll carry Rome?

Auf.
All places yield to him ere he sits down,
And the nobility of Rome are his:
The Tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty
To expel him thence.
First, he was
A noble servant to them, but he could not
Carry his honours even; whether pride,
Whether defect of judgment in him; but he has merit
To choak it in the utterance.
Come, let's away; when, Caius, Rome is thine,
Thou'rt poor'st of all, then shortly art thou mine. [Exeunt. End of the Fourth ACT.

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