Menen. Ha? Martius comming home?
Volum. I, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous
approbation

Menen. Take my Cappe Iupiter, and I thanke thee:
hoo, Martius comming home?
2.Ladies. Nay, 'tis true

Volum. Looke, here's a Letter from him, the State hath
another, his Wife another, and (I thinke) there's one at
home for you

Menen. I will make my very house reele to night:
A Letter for me?
Virgil. Yes certaine, there's a Letter for you, I saw't

Menen. A Letter for me? it giues me an Estate of seuen
yeeres health; in which time, I will make a Lippe at
the Physician: The most soueraigne Prescription in Galen,
is but Emperickqutique; and to this Preseruatiue, of no
better report then a Horse-drench. Is he not wounded?
he was wont to come home wounded?
Virgil. Oh no, no, no

Volum. Oh, he is wounded, I thanke the Gods for't

Menen. So doe I too, if it be not too much: brings a
Victorie in his Pocket? the wounds become him

Volum. On's Browes: Menenius, hee comes the third