To have a Temple built you: all the fwords Could not have made this Peace. [Exeunt: SCENE, the Forum, in Rome. Enter Menenius and Sicinius. Men. SEE you yond coin o'th' Capitol,yond cornerSic. Why, what of that? Men. If it be poffible for you to difplace it with your little finger, there is fome hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But, I fay, there is no hope in't; our throats are fentenc'd, and ftay upon execution. Sic. Is't poffible, that fo fhort a time can alter the condition of a man? Men. There is difference 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 lov'd his mother dearly. Men. So did he me; and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight years old horse. The tartness of his face fours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground fhrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corflet with his eye: talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He fits in his State, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finish'd 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 fhall bring from him; there is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tyger; that shall our poor City find; and all this is long of you. Sic. The Gods be good unto us! unto us. Men No, in fuch a cafe the Gods will not be good When we banifh'd him, we respected not them: and he returning to break our necks, they refpect not us. Enter a Meffenger. Mef. Sir, if you'd fave your life, fly to your house; The Plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, And hale him up and down; All fwearing, if The Roman Ladies bring not comfort home, They'll give him death by inches. Enter another Meffenger. Sic. What's the news? Mef. Good news, good news, the Ladies have prevail'd, The Volfcians are diflodg'd, and Marcius gone: Sic. Friend, Art certain, this is true? is it most certain ? Men. This is good news: [4 fhout within. I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia A Sea and Land full. You've pray'd well to day: Sic. First, the Gods blefs [Sound ftill, with the shouts. you for your tidings: next, Mef. Mef. Sir, we have all great caufe to give great thanks. Sic. They're near the city? Mef. Almoft at point to enter. Sic. We'll meet them, and help the joy. [Exeunt. Enter two Senators, with ladies, paffing over the Sen. Behold our Patronefs, the Life of Rome : Unfhout the noise, that banish'd Marcius; All. Welcome, Ladies, welcome! [Exeunt. [A flourish with drums and trumpets. SCENE changes to a publick Place in Antium. Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants. Auf. G Deliver them this paper: having read it, O tell the Lords o'th' City, I am here: Bid them repair to th' market-place, where I, welcome! Moft Enter three or four Confpirators of Aufidius's faction. 1 Con. How is it with our General? Auf. Even fo, As with a man by his own alms impoyfon'd, And with his charity flain. If 2 Con. Moft noble Sir, you do hold the fame intent, wherein I 3 You You wifh'd us parties; we'll deliver you Auf. Sir, I cannot tell; We must proceed, as we do find the people. 3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilft 'Twixt you there's difference; but the Fall of either Makes the Survivor heir of all. Auf. I know it; And my pretext to ftrike at him admits A good conftruction. I rais'd him, and pawn'd When he did stand for Conful, which he loft Auf. That I would have spoke of: Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth, I Con. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it, and, at last, When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd Auf. There was it; (For which my finews fhall be ftretch'd upon him; And And I'll renew me in his Fall. But, hark! [Drums and trumpets found, with great shouts of the people. 1 Con. Your native Town you enter'd like a Post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the Air with noife. 2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath flain, their base throats tear, Giving him glory. Con. Therefore at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people Auf. Say no more, Here come the lords. Enter the Lords of the City. All Lords. You're moft welcome home. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd All. We have. I Lord. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the laft, I think, Enter Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours the Commons being with him. Cor. Hail, lords; I am return'd, your foldier; I 4 With |