Men. I would they were in Tiber!-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 publick power,

Which he so sets at nought.

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

As I do know the consul's worthiness,

So can I name his faults:

Sic.

VOL. XI.

Consul!-what consul?

G

Men. The consul Coriolanus.

Bru.

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

He a consul!

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

people,

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.

Sic.

This is clean kam 43.

Bru. Merely awry: When he did love his country,

It honour'd him.. /

Men.

The service of the foot

Being once gangren'd, 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 swiftness, will, too late,
Tie leaden pounds to his heels. Proceed by process;

Lest parties (as he is belov'd) break out,

And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru.

Sic. What do ye talk?

If it were so,

Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our ædiles 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.

Be

Sic.

Noble Menenius,

you then as the people's officer:Masters, lay down your weapons.

Bru.

Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the market-place:-We'll attend 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

Enter CORIOLANUS, and Patricians.

Cor. Let them pull all about mine ears; present 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.

You 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 show 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;

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

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

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 show'd them how you were dispos'd

Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Let them hang.

Enter MENENIUS, and Senators.

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough, some

thing too rough;

You must return, and mend it.

There's no remedy;

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