Behold, these are the Tribunes of the People,
The Tongues o'th' Common Mouth. I do despise them:
For they doe pranke them in Authoritie,
Against all Noble sufferance

Scicin. Passe no further

Cor. Hah? what is that?
Brut. It will be dangerous to goe on- No further

Corio. What makes this change?
Menen. The matter?
Com. Hath he not pass'd the Noble, and the Common?
Brut. Cominius, no

Corio. Haue I had Childrens Voyces?
Senat. Tribunes giue way, he shall toth' Market place

Brut. The People are incens'd against him

Scicin. Stop, or all will fall in broyle

Corio. Are these your Heard?
Must these haue Voyces, that can yeeld them now,
And straight disclaim their toungs? what are your Offices?
You being their Mouthes, why rule you not their Teeth?
Haue you not set them on?
Mene. Be calme, be calme