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Ere he express himself, or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Which we will fecond. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd dhall bury
His reasons with his body.
Auf. Say no more,
Here come the Lords.
Enter the Lords of the City.
All Lords. You're moft welcome home.
Auf. I have not deserv'd it.
But, worthy Lords, have you with keed perus'd
What I have written to you?
Ail. We have.
i Lord. And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines : but there to end,
Where he was to begin, and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding, this admits no excufe.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours ;, obe
Commons being with bim.
Cor. Hail, Lords ;, I am return'd, your soldier;
No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still fubfifting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage.led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome: Our fpoils,
we have brought home,
Do more than counterpaile, a full third pan,
The charges' of the action. We've made peace.
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to th’ Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscribed by the confuls and patricians,
Together with the feal o'th? Senate, whas:
We have compounded on.
Auf. Read it not, noble Lords.
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor -how now !
Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Car. Marcius !
Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; doit thou think,
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stoln name
Coriolanus, in Corioli ??
You Lords and heads o'th' ftate, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome ;
I say, your city, to his wife and mother ;
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten filk, never admitting
Counsel o'th' war; but at his nuife's tears.
He whin'd and roard away your victory,
That pages bluth'd at him ; and men of heart
Look'd wond'ring each at other.
Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars /
Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears !-
Auf. No more.
Cor. Measureless liar, thou haft made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy? O save!
Pardon me, Lords, 'tis the first time that ever
I'm forc'd to fcold. Your judgments, my grave Lords,
Must give this cur the lye; and his own notion,
(Who wears my stripes impreft upon him; that
Must bear my beating to his grave;) Mall join
To thrust the lye unto him.
i Lord. Peace-both, and hear me speak.
Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volscians, men and lads,
Stain all your edges in me.. Boy! false hound !
have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-coat, I
Flutter'd your Volscians in Corio'i.
Alone I did it. Boy!
Auf. Why, noble Lords,
'Fore your own eyes and ears ?
All Con. Let him die for't.
All People. Tear him to pieces, de it presently:
He kill'd my fon,-my daughter,---kill'd my cousin,
He kill'd my father.- (The Croud speak promiscuously.
2 Lord. Peace, no outragepeace-
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o'th earth ; his last offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
Cor. O that I had him,
With fix Aufidius's, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword
Auf. Infolent villain !
All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
[The Conspirators all draw, and kill Marcius, who falls,
and Aufidius ftands on him.
Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf. My noble masters, hear me fpeak.
i Lord. O. Tullus-
2 Lord. Thou haft done a deed, whereat Valour will weep.
3 Lord. Tread not upon him--masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords.
Auf: My Lords, when you shall know (as in this rage Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please ir
To call me to your Senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal fervant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
i Lordi Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him.
Let him be regarded
As the most noble coarse, that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.
2 Lord. His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame;
Let's make the best of it.
Auf. My rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow: take him up:
Help, three o'th'chiefeft foldiers; P'll be one. (42)
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he hall have a noble memory.
[Exeunt, bearing the body of Marcius. Adead march founded.
(42) Hely, three oʻib chiefefi Loldiers; I'll be one.) Not one of the three, but one to assist them: he would make the fourth man. So, in the conclufion of Hamlet;
-Let four captains
Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the faze:
The End of the SIXTR. Volume