Ed. Very well.

Sic. Make them be strong and ready for this hint, When we shall hap to give't them.

Bru. Go about it.

[Exit Edile. Put him to choler ftraight; he hath been us'd Ever to conquer, and to have his word,

Of contradiction. Being once chaft, he cannot
Be rein'd again to temp'rance; then he speaks

What's in his heart; and That is there, which looks
With us to break his neck.

Enter Coriolanus, Menenius and Cominius with others.

Sic. Well, here he comes.

Men. Calmly, I do befeech you.

Cor. Ay, as an hoftler, that for the poorest piece Will bear the Knave by th' volume:- The honour'd Gods

Keep Rome in Safety, and the Chairs of Juftice Supply with worthy men, plant love amongst you, Throng our large Temples with the fhews of peace, And not our freets with war!

1 Sen. Amen, amen!

Men. A noble wish.

Enter the Edile with the Plebeians.

Sic. Draw near, ye People.

Ed. Lift to your Tribunes: audience;

Peace, I fay.

Cor. First, hear me speak.

Both Tri. Well, fay: peace, ho.

Cor. Shall I be charg'd no farther than this prefent? Muft all determine here?

Sic. I do demand,

If you fubmit you to the People's voices,
Allow their Officers, and are content

To fuffer lawful Cenfure for fuch faults
As fhall be prov'd upon you?

Cor. I am content.

Men.

Men. Lo, Citizens, he fays, he is content:
The warlike fervice he has done, confider;
Think on the wounds his body bears, which fhew
Like Graves i'th' holy Church-yard.

Cor. Scratches with briars, fcars to move Laughter only.

Men. Confider further:

That when he speaks not like a Citizen,
You find him like a Soldier; do not take
His rougher accents for malicious founds:
But, as I fay, fuch as become a Soldier.
Rather than envy, you

Com. Well, well, no more..

Cor. What is the matter,

That being paft for Conful with full voice,
I'm fo difhonour'd, that the very hour
You take it off again?

Sic. Answer to us.

Cor. Say then: 'tis true, I ought fo.

Sic We charge you, that you have contriv'd to take
From Rome all feafon'd Office, and to wind
Yourself unto a Power tyrannical;

For which you are a traitor to the People.
Cor. How? Traitor?-

Men. Nay, temperately: your promise.

Cor. The fire's i' th' loweft hell fold in the people! Call me their traitor! thou injurious Tribune! Within thine eyes fat twenty thousand deaths, In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in Thy lying tongue both numbers; I would say, Thou lieft, unto thee, with a voice as free, As I do pray the Gods.

Sic. Mark you this, people?

All. To th' Rock with him.

Sic. Peace:

We need not lay new matter to his charge:

What you have seen him do, and heard him speak, Beating your Officers, curfing yourselves,

VOL. VIII.

D

Opposing

Oppofing laws with strokes, and here defying
Those whose great Power must try him, even this
So criminal, and in fuch capital kind,
Deferves th extremeft death.

Bru. But fince he hath
Serv'd well for Rome

Cor. What do you prate of service ?
Bru. I talk of That, that know it.

Cor. You?

Men. Is this the promife that you made your Mother?

Com. Know, I pray you→

Cor. I'll know no farther:

Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, fleaing, pent to linger
But with a grain a-day, I would not buy
Their mercy at the price of one fair word;
Nor check my courage for what they can give,
To hav't with faying, good-morrow.

Sic. For that he has

(As much as in him lies) from time to time
Envy'd against the people; seeking means
To pluck away their Power; as now at laft
Giv'n hoftile ftrokes, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded juftice, but on the Ministers

That do diftribute it; in the Name o' th' People,
And in the Power of us the Tribunes, we
(Ev'n from this inftant) banish him our City;
In peril of precipitation

From off the Rock Tarpeian, never more

To enter our Rome's Gates. I' th' People's Name, I fay, it fhall be fo.

All. It fhall be fo, it fhall be fo; let him He's banish'd, and it shall be so.

away:

Com. Hear me, my Masters, and my common

Friends

Sic. He's fentenc'd: no more hearing.

Com. Let me fpeak:

I

I have been Conful, and can fhew for Rome
Her Enemies' Marks upon me. I do love
My Country's Good, with a respect more tender,
More holy, and profound, than mine own life,
My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase,
And treasure of my loins: then if I would
Speak that

Sic. We know your drift.

Speak what? Bru. There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd As enemy to the People and his Country.

It fhall be fo.

All. It fhall be fo, it fhall be fo.

Cor. You common cry of curs, whose breath I

· hate,

As reek o' th' rotten fenns; whofe loves I prize,
As the dead carcaffes of unburied men,

That do corrupt my air: I banish you:
And here remain with your uncertainty ;

Let

every feeble rumour fhake your hearts;
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into defpair: have the power still
To banish your Defenders, 'till at length,
Your ignorance (which finds not, 'till it feels;
Making but refervation of yourselves
Still your own enemies) deliver you,
As most abated captives, to fome nation
That won you without blows! Despising then,
For you, the City, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others.
[The people fhout, and throw up their caps.
Ed. The people's enemy is gone, is gone!
All. Our enemy is banish'd; he is gone! Hoo!

with all defpight
Let a guard

Sic. Go fee him out at gates, and follow him
As he hath follow'd you
Give him deferv'd vesano
Attend us through the Cly

All. Come, come; let us fee him out at the gates;

Before the Gates of ROME.

Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, with the young Nobility of Rome.

COME,

CORIOLANUS.

OME, leave your tears: a brief farewel: the beaft

With many heads butts me away.

heads butts me away. Nay, mother, Where is your ancient Courage? you were us'd To fay, Extremity was the trier of fpirits,

That common chances common men could bear;
That, when the Sea was calm, all boats alike
Shew'd mastership in floating. Fortune's blows,
When most ftruck home, being gently warded, craves
A noble cunning. You were us'd to load me
With precepts, that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.

Vir. O heav'ns! O heav'ns!

Cor. Nay, I pr'ythee, woman

Vol. Now the red peftilence ftrike all trades in Rome,

And occupations perifh!

Cor. What! what! what!

I fhall be lov'd, when I am lack'd. Nay, mother,
Resume that spirit, when you were wont to fay,
If you had been the wife of Hercules,

Six of his labours you'd have done, and fav'd
Your husband fo much fweat. Cominius,

Droop