Well, and say that Marcius
Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
Unheard; what then?—
But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
With his unkindness? Say't be so?
Sic.

Yet your good will
Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
As you intended well.

I'll undertake it.

Men.
I think, he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip,
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
He was not taken well; he had not din'd:
The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch
him

Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him,

Bru. You know the very road into his kindness,
And cannot lose your way.
Men.
Good faith, I'll prove him,
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success.
Com.
Sic.

He'll not hear him.

Not?

His fame unparallel'd, haply, amplified ;
For I have ever verified' my friends
(Of whom he's chief,) with all the size that verity
Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes,
Like to a bowl upon a subtle' ground,

I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing: Therefore, fel-
low,

I must have leave to pass.

1 G. 'Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf, as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here: no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chastely. Therefore, go back.

Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary on the party of your general.

2 G. Howsoever you have been his liar (as you say, you have,) I am one that, telling true under him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back.

Men. Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not speak with him till after dinner. 1 G. You are a Roman, are you? Men. I am as thy general is.

1 G. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the very defender of them, and, in a violent popu lar ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think [Exit. to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decayed do tant as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; Therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.

Com. I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury
The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
'Twas very faintly he said, Rise; dismiss'd me
Thus, with his speechless hand: What he would do,
He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
Bound with an oath, to yield to his conditions:
So, that all hope is vain,

Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on. [Exe.
SCENE II.-An advanced post of the Volscian
camp before Rome. The Guard at their sta-
tions. Enter to them, Menenius.

1 G. Stay: Whence are you?
2 G.
Stand, and go back.
Men. You guard like en; 'tis well: But, by
your leave,

I am an officer of state, and come
To speak with Coriolanus.

1 G.

Men.

From whence?

From Rome. 1 G. You may not pass, you must return: our general

Will no more hear from thence.

Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation.

2 G. Come, my captain knows you not.
Men. I mean, thy general.

1 G. My general cares not for you. Back, I say,
go, lest I let forth your half pint of blood;-back,
-that's the utmost of your having :-back.
Men. Nay, but fellow, fellow, —

Enter Coriolanus and Aufidius.
Cor. What's the matter?

Men. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; you shall know now that I am in estima tion; you shall perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus: guess but by my entertainment with him, if thou stand'st not i'the state of hanging, or some death more long in spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee.-The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no

2 G. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire, worse than thy old father Menenius does! O, my before

You'll speak with Coriolanus.

Men.
Good my friends,
If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is lots' to blanks,
My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.
1 G. Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name
Is not here passable.

Men.
I tell thee, fellow,
Thy general is my lover: I have been

The book of his good acts, whence men have read

son! my son! thou art preparing fire for us; look
thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly
moved to come to thee; but being assured, none
but myself could move thee, I have been blown
out of your gates with sighs; and conjure thee to
pardon Rome, and thy petitionary countrymen.
The good gods assauge thy wrath, and turn the
drees of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a
block, hath denied my access to thec.
Cor. Away!
Men. How! away?

Scene III.

CORIOLANUS.

Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs | In supplication nod: and my young boy
Are servanted to others: Though I owe
My revenge properly, my remission lies

In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather

Than pity note how much.-Therefore, be gone.
Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than
Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,
Take this along; I writ it for thy sake,

[Gives a letter.
And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius,
I will not hear thee speak.-This man, Aufidius,
Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st-
Juf. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius.
1 G. Now, sir, is you name Menenius?
2 G. 'Tis as pell, you see, of much power: You
know the way home again.

1 G. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

I

Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great nature cries, Deny not.-Let the Volces
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand,
As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin.

My lord and husband!
Vir.
Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
Vir. The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd,
Makes you think so.
Cor.

[Kneels

Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, Forgive my tyranny; but do not say, For that, Forgive our Romans.-0, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now by the jealous queen' of heaven, that kiss carried from thee, dear; and my true lip Hath virgin'd it e'er since.-You gods! I prate, 2 G. What cause do you think, I have to swoon? And the most noble mother of the world Men. I neither care for the world, nor your gene-Leave unsaluted: Sink, my knee i'the earth; ral: for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, you are so slight. He that hath a will to die Of thy deep duty more impression show Let your Than that of common sons. O, stand up bless'd Vol. by himself, fears it not from another. For you, be that you are, general do his worst. long; and your misery increase with your age! Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, [Exit.I kneel before thee; and unproperly say to you, as I was said to, Away! Show duty, as mistaken all the while [Kneels 1 G. A noble fellow, I warrant him. What is this? 2 G. The worthy fellow is our general: Between the child and parent. Cor. rock, the oak not to the wind-shaken. Your knees to me? to your corrected son ? Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach SCENE III-The tent of Coriolanus. Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds Coriolanus, Autidius, and others. Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; Murd'ring impossibility, to make Set down our host.-My partner in this action, You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly What cannot be, slight work. I have borne this business.

Auf.

Only their ends

He is the [Exeunt. Enter

You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
The general suit of Rome; never admitted
A private whisper, no, not with such friends
That thought them sure of you.

This last old man,
Cor.
Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
Lov'd me above the measure of a father;
Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge,
Was to send him: for whose old love, I have
(Though I show'd sourly to him,) once more offer'd
The first conditions which they did refuse
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more; a very little
I have yielded too: Fresh embassies, and suits,
Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.Ha! what shout is this?
[Shout within.

Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
In the same time 'tis made? I will not.-
Enter in mourning habits, Virgilia, Volumnia,
Leading young Marcius, Valeria, and attendants.
My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
The grand-child to her blood. But, out, affection!
All bond and privilege of nature, break!
Let it be virtuous, to be obstinate.

What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
Which can make gods forsworn?-I melt and am
not

Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows,
As if Olympus to a molehill should

(1) Because. (2) Reprimanded. (3) Openlv.
74) A young goose.

Vol.

Thou art my warrior;

I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady ?
Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,

The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria!
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

Cor.

The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness: that thou may'st prove
To shame invulnerable, and stick i'the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!
Vol.

Your knee, sirrah.

Cor. That's my brave boy.
Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
Are suitors to you.

Cor.

I beseech you, peace:
Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;
The things, I have foresworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Disiniss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanics :-Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.
O, no more, no more!
Vol.
You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already; Yet we will ask
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
Mav hang upon your hardness: Therefore near us
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
(6) Gust, storm.

(5) Juno.

Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request?
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our rai-
ment,

And state of bodies, would bewray' what life
Ve have led since thy exile. Think with thyself,
low more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with
comforts,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and
sorrow;

Iaking the mother, wife, and child, to see
'he son, the husband, and the father, tearing
lis country's bowels out. And to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy: For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound; together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles thorough our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread upon thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
1 purpose not to wait on fortune, till

These wars determine:2 if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to't thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Vir.

Ay, and on mine,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
Living to time.

Boy.

He shall not tread on me;

I'll run away, till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.

Vol.

[Rising. Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so, that our request did tend

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy

Than can our reasons.-There is no man in th
world

More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy ;
When she (poor hen!) fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so,
Thou are not honest; and the gods will plague the
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; an end:
This is the last;-So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold us:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child

Like him by chance:-Yet give us our despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.

Cor.

O mother, mother!
[Holding Volumnia by the hands, silent
What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome:
But, for your son,-believe it, O, believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come :-
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was mov'd withal.
Cor.
I dare be sworn, you were.
And, sir, it is no little thing, to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you
Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife!

Auf. I am glad, thou hast set thy mercy and th
honour

The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us, At difference in thee: out of that I'll work

As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say, This mercy we have show'd; the Romans,
This we receiv'd; and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd
For making up this peace! Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shall thereby reap, is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ,-The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wip'd it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak you:
He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more

(1) Betray. (2) Concia le. (3) The refinements.!

Myself a former fortune

[Aside.
[The Ladies make signs to Coriolanus.
Cor.
Ay, by and by;
[To Volumnia, Virgilia, &c.
But we will drink together; and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have counter-scal'd.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you: all the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Rome. A public place. Enter

Menenius and Sicinius.

Men. See you yond' coign" o'the Capitol: vond corner-stone?

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.

14) Angle.

(5) Stay but for it.

Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings;| he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome : Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he

them:

walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum Cry,-Welcome, ladies, welcome !— is a battery. He sits in his state,' as a thing made2 for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished Welcome! with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Mess. Good news, good news ;-The ladies have
prevail'd;

The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic.

Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain ?
Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark

you;

[Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums beaten, all together, Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you!

[Shouting again.
Men.
This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings:
next,

Accept my thankfulness.
Mess.

Welcome, ladies!
[A flourish with drums and trumpets.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.-Antium. A public place. Enter
Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here:
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse,
The city-ports4 by this hath enter'd, and
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words: Despatch.

[Exeunt Attendants,

If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.
Auf.

Sir, I cannot tell;

We must proceed, as we do find the people.

3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst
'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
Auf.

I know it;
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heighten'd.
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswavable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,

When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-
Auf
That I would have spoke ɔ.
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nav, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designment
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He way'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.
1 Con.
So he did, my lord:
They are near the city? The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last,
When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd

Sir, we have all

Great cause to give great thanks.
Sic.

(1) Chair of state. (2) T. resemble.
(s) Recall. (4) Gates. (5) Helped.

(6) Thought me awarded with good looks.

[Several speak at once. Cit. Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him tc pieces, do it presently. He killed my son;-my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcus;-He killed my father.

2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage ;--peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in

a This orb o'the earth. His last offence to us Shall have judicious' hearing.-Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.