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male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and

all this is long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be

good unto us. When we banished him, we

respected not them; and, he returning to break

our necks, they respect not us.

Mess. Sir, if you'd 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.

Sic. What's the news?

Mess. Good news, good news! the ladies have prevail'd,

The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Martius gone.

A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,

No, not th' expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic. Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? Is 't most certain?

Mess. 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!

The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,

 33 long of: on account of

37 respected: heeded

43 by inches: by slow torture

45 are dislodg'd: have broken camp

51 blown: swollen; cf. n.

53 sackbuts: bass wind instruments, trombones

psalteries: stringed instruments, dulcimers

