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Tullus Aufidius: Do they still fly to the Roman?
Volsce Lieutenant: I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but your soldiers use him as the grace before meat, their talk at table, and their thanks at end. And you are darkened in this action, sir.
Tullus Aufidius: He bears himself more proud, even to my person, than I thought he would when first I did embrace him.
Volsce Lieutenant: Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?
Tullus Aufidius: I think he'll be to Rome as is the osprey to the fish, who takes it by sovereignty of nature.
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Volsce Lieutenant: How is it with our general?
Tullus Aufidius: As with a man by his own charity slain.
Volsce Lieutenant: Our soldiers will remain uncertain whilst 'twixt you there's difference, but the fall of either makes the survivor heir of all.
Tullus Aufidius: I know it, and my pretext to strike at him admits a good construction. I raised him, and I pawned mine honor for his truth, who, being so heightened, he watered his new plants with dews of flattery, seducing so my friends. At the last, I seemed his follower, not his partner, and he waged me with his countenance as if I had been mercenary.
Volsce Lieutenant: So he did, my lord. The army marveled at it. And in the last, when he had carried Rome and that we looked for no less spoil than glory...
Tullus Aufidius: There was it! For which my sinews shall be stretched upon him. At a few drops of women's rheum, which are as cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labor of our great action. Therefore shall he die, and I'll renew me in his fall.
Zoran Cica
Extended Reading
