Men. Be gone;

Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
One time will owe another.

Cor. On fair ground,

I could beat forty of them.

Men. I could myself

Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two tribunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic;
And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
Against a falling fabric.-Will you hence,
Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and overbear
What they are used to bear.

Men. Pray you, be gone.

'll try whether my old wit be in request

With those that have but little; this must be patch'd With cloth of any colour.

Com. Nay, come away.

[Exeunt Cor. Com. and others.

1 Put. This man has marr'd his fortune.

Men. His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:

What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; And, being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death. [A Noise within. Here's goodly work!

2 Pat. I would they were a-bed!

Men. I would they were in Tyber!-What, the vengeance,

Could he not speak them fair?

Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the Rabble.
Sic. Where is this viper,

That would depopulate the city, and
Be every man himself?

Men. You worthy tribunes,

Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,

And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
Than the severity of the public power,
Which he so sets at nought.

tail

The lowest of the populace; tag, rag, and bob

1 Cit. He shall well know,

The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
And we their hands.

Cit. He shall, sure on't..

Men. Sir,

Sic. Peace.

[Several speak together.

Men. Do not cry, havock †, where you should but hunt

With modest warrant.

Sic. Sir, how comes it, that you
Have holp to make this rescue ?
Men. Hear me speak:-

As I do know the consul's worthiness,
So can I name his faults:-

Sic. Consul!-What consul?
Men. The consul Coriolanus.
Bru. He a consul!

Cit. No, no, no, no, no.

Men. If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,

I may be heard, I'd crave a word or two:
The which shall turn you to no further harm,
Than so much loss of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then;

For we are peremptory, to despatch

This viperous traitor: to eject him hence,
Were but one danger; and, to keep him here,
Our certain death; therefore it is decreed,
He dies to-night.

Men. Now the good gods forbid,

That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a disease, that must be cut away.
Men. O, he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.

What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies? The blood he hath lost,
(Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an ounce), he dropp'd it for his country,
And, what is left, to lose it by his country,

Were to us all, that do't, and suffer it,

A brand to the end o' the world.

Be sure on't.

Deserving.

VOL. IV.

+ The signal for slaughter.

Hhh

Sic. This is clean kam.

Bru. Merelyt awry: when he did love his country,

It honour'd him.

Men. The service of the foot

Being once gangrened, is not then respected
For what before it was?

Bru. We'll hear no more :

Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence; Lest his infection, being of catching nature, Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word. This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find The harm of unscann'd swiftnesst, will, too late, Tie leaden pounds to his heels.

Proceed by pro

cess;

Lest parties (as he is beloved) break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If it were so,

Sic. What do ye talk?

Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our Ediles smote? Ourselves resisted ?-Come:-
Men. Consider this;-He has been bred i' the

wars

Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
(In peace) to his utmost peril.

1 Sen. Noble tribunes,

It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody; and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic. Noble Menenius,

Be you then as the people's officer:
Masters, lay down your weapons.
Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the market-place:-We'll atten
you there:

Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed In our first way.

Men. I'll bring him to you :

Let me desire your company. [To the Senators.

He must come.

Quite awry.
Inconsiderate haste,

+ Absolutely.

Finely sifted.

Or what is worst will follow.
1 Sen. Pray you, let's to him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Room in Coriolanus's House.

Enter CORIOLANUS, and PATRICIANS.
Cor. Let them pull all about mine ears; presen

me

Death on the wheel, or at wild horses' heels;
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
That the precipitation might down stretch
Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
Be thus to them.

Enter VOLUMNIA.

1 Pat. Yon do the nobler.

Cor. I muse, my mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy and sell with groats; to shew bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder,
When one but of my ordinance + stood up
To speak of peace, or war. I talk of you;

[To Volumnia.
Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say, I play
The man I am.

Vol. O, Sir, Sir, Sir,

I would have had you put your power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor. Let go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man you

are,

With striving less to be so lesser had been

The thwartings of your dispositions, if

You had not shew'd them how you were disposed
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter MENENIUS, and SENATORS.

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough; You must return, and anend it. 1 Sen. There's no remedy;

• Wonder.

+ Rank.

Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Cleave in the midst, and perish.

Vol. Pray be counsel'd:

I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain, that leads my use of anger,
To better vantage.

Men. Well said, noble woman :

Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that
The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic
For the whole state, I would put mine armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor. What must I do?

Men. Return to the tribunes.

Cor. Well,

What then? What then?

Men. Repent what you have spoke.

Cor. For them?-I cannot do it to the gods; Must I then do't to them?

Vol. You are too absolute;

Though therein you can never be too noble,
But when extremities speak. I have heard you

say,

Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,
I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell

me,

In peace, what each of them by th' other lose,
That they combine not there.

Cor. Tush, tush!

Men. A good demand.

Vol. If it be honour, in your wars, to seem The same you are not (which, for your best ends, You adopt your policy), how is it less, or worse, That it shall hold companionship in peace With honour, as in war; since that to both It stands in like request?

Cor. Why force you this?

Vol. Because that now it lies you on to speak To the people; not by your own instruction, Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you to, But with such words that are but roted in Your tongue, though but bastards, and syllables Of no allowance, to your bosom's truth. Now, this no more dishonours you at all, Than to take in a town with gentle words, Which else would put you to your fortune, and

• Urge.

+ Subdue.