Brut. aediles seize him

All Ple. Yeeld Martius, yeeld

Mene. Heare me one word, 'beseech you Tribunes,
heare me but a word

Aediles. Peace, peace

Mene. Be that you seeme, truly your Countries friend,
And temp'rately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redresse

Brut. Sir, those cold wayes,
That seeme like prudent helpes, are very poysonous,
Where the Disease is violent. Lay hands vpon him,
And beare him to the Rock.

Corio. drawes his Sword.

Corio. No, Ile die here:
There's some among you haue beheld me fighting,
Come trie vpon your selues, what you haue seene me

Mene. Downe with that Sword, Tribunes withdraw
a while

Brut. Lay hands vpon him