Chapter 22

... “He that depends Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead, And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?”

I suspect that Shakespeare wrote it transposed!

“Trust ye? Hang ye!”

_Ib._ sc. 10. Speech of Aufidius:—

... “Mine emulation Hath not that honour in’t, it had; for where I thought to crush him in an equal force, True sword to sword; I’ll potch at him some way Or wrath, or craft may get him.— ... My valour (poison’d With only suffering stain by him) for him Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary, Being naked, sick, nor fane, nor capitol, The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifices, Embankments all of fury, shall lift up Their rotten privilege and custom ’gainst My hate to Marcius.”

I have such deep faith in Shakespeare’s heart-lore, that I take for granted that this is in nature, and not as a mere anomaly; although I cannot in myself discover any germ of possible feeling, which could wax and unfold itself into such sentiment as this. However, I perceive that in this speech is meant to be contained a prevention of shock at the after-change in Aufidius’s character.