s daughter, too?

FULVIA. And this is Fulvia, Sylla's daughter, too.

MARIUS. Two welcome guests, in whom the majesty
Of my conceit and courage must consist.
What think you, senators and countrymen?
See, here are two, the fairest stars of Rome.
The dearest dainties of my warlike foe,
Whose lives upon your censures do subsist.[139]

LEPIDUS. Dread consul, the continuance of their lives
Shall egg on Sylla to a greater haste;
And, in bereaving of their vital breath,
Your grace shall force more fury from your foe.
Of these extremes we leave the choice to you.

MARIUS. Then think that some strange fortune shall ensue.

FULVIA. Poor Fulvia, now thy happy days are done!
Instead of marriage pomp, the fatal lights
Of funerals must masque about thy bed:
Nor shall thy father's arms with kind embrace
Hem in thy shoulders, trembling now for fear.
I see in Marius' looks such tragedies,
As fear my heart; and fountains fill mine eyes.

CORNELIA. Fie, Fulvia! shall thy father's daughter faint,
Before the threats of danger shall approach?
Dry up those tears, and like a Roman maid,
Be bold and silent, till our foe have said.

MARIUS. Cornelia, wife unto my traitor-foe,
What gadding mood hath forc'd thy speedy flight
To leave thy country, and forsake thy friends?

CORNELIA. Accursed Marius, offspring of my pains,
Whose furious wrath hath wrought thy country's woe,
What may remain for me or mine in Rome,
That see the tokens of thy tyrannies?
Vile monster, robb'd of virtue, what revenge
Is this, to wreak thine anger on the walls?
To raze our house, to banish all our friends,
To kill the rest, and captive us at last?
Think'st thou by barbarous deeds to boast thy state,
Or spoiling Sylla, to depress his hate?
No, Marius, but for every drop of blood
And inch of wrong he shall return thee two.

FLACCUS. Madam, in danger wisdom doth advise
In humble terms to reconcile our foes.

MARIUS. She is a woman, Flaccus; let her talk,
That breathes forth bitter words instead of blows.

CORNELIA. And in regard of that, immodest man,
Thou shouldst desist from outrage and revenge.

LECTORIUS. What, can your grace endure these cursed scoffs?

MARIUS. Why, my Lectorius, I have ever learnt
That ladies cannot wrong me with upbraids;
Then let her talk, and my concealed hate
Shall heap revengement upon Sylla's pate.

FULVIA. Let fevers first afflict thy feeble age;
Let palsies make thy stubborn fingers faint;
Let humours, streaming fro