Men. Go, get you to your house; be gone, away, All will be naught elfe.

2 Sen. Get you gone.

Com. Stand faft, we have as many friends as enemies. Men. Shall it be put to That?

Sen. The Gods forbid !

I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house,
Leave us to cure this cause."

Men. For 'tis a fore,

You cannot tent your felf; begone, 'beseech you.
Com. Come, Sir, along with us.

Men. I would, they were Barbarians, (as they are, Though in Rome litter'd;) not Romans (as they are

not,

Though calved in the porch o'th' Capitol:)

Begone, put not your worthy rage into your tongue, One time will owe another.

Cor. On fair ground I could beat forty of them. Men. I could my felf take up a brace o'th' best of them; yea, the two Tribunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetick;
And manhood is call'd fool'ry, when it ftands
Against a falling fabrick. Will you hence,
Before the tag return, whofe rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear
What they are us'd to bear.

Men. Pray you, be gone:

I'll try, if my old wit be in requeft

With those that have but little; this must be patcht With cloth of any colour.

Com. Come, away. [Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius. 1 Sen. This man has marr'd his fortune. Men. His nature is too noble for the world:

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

Or Jove for's power to thunder: his heart's his mouth: What his breast forges, that his tongus must vent; And being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death.

Here's goodly work,

2 Sen. I would they were a-bed. VOL. VI

F

[A noife within.

Men

Men, I would, they were in Tyber. What, the ven

geance,

Could he not speak 'em fair?

Enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble again.
Sic. Where is this viper,

That would depopulate the city, and
Be every man himself?

Men. You worthy Tribunes

Sic. He fhall be thrown down the Tarpeian Rock
With rigorous hands; he hath refifted Law,
And therefore Law fhall fcorn him further tryal
Than the feverity of publick Power,

Which he fo fets at nought.

I Cit. He hall well know, the noble Tribunes are The people's mouths, and we their hands.

All. He fhall, be sure on't.

Men. Sir, Sir,

Sic. Peace.

Men. Do not cry havock, where you should but hunt With modeft warrant,

Sic. Sir, how comes it, you

Have holp to make this rescue?

Men. Hear me fpeak';

As I do know the Conful's worthinefs,

So can I name his faults

Sic. Conful! what Conful!

--

Men. The Conful Coriolanus.
Bru. He Conful!

All. No, no, no, no, no.

[people,

Men. If by the Tribunes leave, and yours, good

I may be heard, I'd crave a word or two;
The which, fhall turn you to no further harm,
Than fo much lofs of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then,

For we are peremptory to dispatch

This viperous traitor; to eject him hence, (24)

Were but one danger, and to keep him here

Werc

Our certain Death;] This Reading, which has obtain'd in the

A printed

Were but our 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, whofe gratitude
Tow'rds her deferving children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a difeafe that must be cut away.
Men. Oh, he's a limb, that has but a disease ;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, eafie.d
What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies, the blood he hath loft
Which, I dare vouch, is more than That he hath,
By many an ounce) he dropt it for his Country:
And what is left, to lofe it by his Country,
Were to us all that do't, and fuffer it,

A brand to th' end o'th' world.

Sic. This is clean kamme, aski

Bru. Meerly awry: when he did love his Country, It honour'd him.

Men. The fervice of the foot

Being once gangreen'd, it is not then refpected;
For what before it was

Bru. We'll hear no more.

Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Left his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.

Men, One word more, one word:

This tiger-footed rage, when it fhall find

The harm of unskann'd fwiftness, will (too late)
Tye leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process,
Left Parties (as he is belov'd) break out,

And fack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If 'twere fo

Sic. What do ye talk

printed Copies, deftroys that Climax which evidently feems deign'd here, and flattens the Sentiment. In my Opinion, the Tribune "To banish him, will be hazardous to Us; to let him re

would fay,
"main at home, our certain Deftruction."

F 2

Have

Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our Ediles fmote, our felves refifted, come

Men. Confider this; he hath been bred i'th' wars
Since he could draw a fword, and is ill-fchool'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without diftinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he fhall anfwer 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 pad ddyren
Sic Noble Menenius,

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

Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the forum; 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 defire your company; he must come,
Or what is worft will follow.

1 Sen. Pray, let's to him.

TOY DOT [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to CORIOLANUS's House.

Cor.

Enter Coriolanus, with Nobless ab

LET them pull all about mine ears, prefent me

Death on the wheel, or at wild horfes heels,

Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian Rock,

That the precipitation might down ftretch
Below the beam of fight, yet will I fill

Be thus to them.

Noble. You do the nobler.

Cor. I mufe, my mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont

To call them woollen vaffals, things created
To buy and fell with groats; to fhew bare heads
In congregations, yawn, be still, and wonder,;
When one but of my Ordinance ftood up

To speak of Peace or War; (I talk of you)
Why did you wish me milder? wou'd you have me
Falfe to my nature? rather fay, I play

The man I am.

Vol. Oh, Sir, Sir, Sir,

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

Cor. Let it go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man you

are,

With striving less to be fo. Leffer had been (25)
The Thwartings of your difpofitions, if
You had not thew'd them how ye were dispos'd
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter Menenius, with the Senators.

Men. Come, come, you've been too rough, fome

thing too rough:

You must return, and mend it.

Sen. There's no remedy,

Unless, by not fo doing, our good City
Cleave in the midft, and perish.

Vol. Pray, be counsell'd;

I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain that leads my ufe of anger
To better vantage.

Men. Well faid, noble woman;

The Things that thwart your Difpofitions,]

The old Copies exhibit it,

The Things of your Difpofitions

A few Letters replac'd, that by tome Carelefnefs drop'd out, restore Us

the Poet's genuine Reading;

The Thwartings of your Difpofitions.

F 3

7

"Before