Or lofe my arm for't: thou haft beat me out
Twelve several times, and I have nightly fince
Dream't of encounters 'twixt thy felf and me:
We have been down together in my fleep,
Unbuckling helms, fifting each other's throat,
And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou art thence banish'd, we would mufter all
From twelve to feventy; and pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,

Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O come, go in,
And take our friendly Senators by th' hands,
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd against your Territories,
Though not for Rome it felf.

Cor. You blefs me, Gods!

Auf. Therefore, most absolute Sir, if thou wilt have The leading of thine own revenges, take

One half of my Commiffion, and fet down

As beft thou art experienc'd, fince thou know'st
Thy Country's ftrength and weakness, thine own
ways;

Whether to knock againft the gates of Rome,
Or rudely vifit them in parts remote,

To fright them, ere deftroy. But come, come in ;
Let me commend thee firft to thofe, that shall

Say yea to thy defires. A thousand welcomes!
And more a friend, than e'er an enemy:
Yet, Marcius, that was much.

welcome!

Enter two Servants.

1 Ser. Here's a ftrange alteration.

Your hand; moft

[Exeunt,

2 Ser. By my hand, I had thought to have ftrucken him with a cudgel, and yet my mind gave me, his clothes made a falle report of him.

1. Ser. What an arm he has! he turn'd me about 'with his finger and his thumb, as one would fet up a top.

2 Ser. Nay, I knew by his face that there was fomething in him. He had, Sir, a kind of face, methought-I cannot tell how to term it.

1 Ser. He had fo: looking, as it were

would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

2 Ser. So did I, I'll be fworn: he is fimply the ra reft man i'th' world.

1 Ser. I think, he is; but a greater Soldier than he, you wot one.

2 Ser. Who, my Mafter?

I Ser. Nay, it's no matter for that.

2 Ser. Worth fix on him.

1 Ser. Nay, not fo neither, but I take him to be the greater Soldier.

2 Ser. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to fay that, for the defence of a Town, our General is excellent.

1 Ser. Ay, and for an affault too.

3

Enter a third Servant.

Ser. Oh, flaves, I can tell you news; news, you rafcals.

Both. What, what, what? let's partake,

3 Ser. I would not be a Roman, of all nations, I had as lieve be a condemn'd man.

Both. Wherefore? wherefore?

3 Ser. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our General, Caius Marcius.

1 Ser. Why do you fay, thwack our General?

3 Ser. I do not fay, thwack our General, but he was always good enough for him.

2 Ser. Come, we are fellows and friends; he was ever too hard for him, I have heard him fay fo himself,

I Ser. He was too hard for him directly, to fay the troth on't before Corioli, he fcocht him and notcht him like a carbonado.

2 Ser. And, had he been cannibally given, he might have broil'd and eaten him too,

1 Ser. But, more of thy news;→→→→

3 Ser. Why, he is fo made on here within, as if he were Son and Heir to Mars: fet at upper end o'th' table; no question ask'd him by any of the Senators, but they ftand bald before him. Our General himself makes a Mistress of him, fanctifies himself with's hands, and turns up the white o'th' eye to his difcourfe. But the bottom of the news is, our General is cut i'th' middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday. For the Other has half, by the Intreaty and Grant of the whole table. He'll go, he fays, and fowle the porter of Rome gates by th' ears. He will mow down all before him, and leave his paffage poll'd.

2 Ser. And he's as like to do't as any man I can he's as imagine.

3 Ser. Do't! he will do't: for look you, Sir, he has as many friends as enemies; which friends, Sir, as it were, durft not (look you, Sir) fhew themfelves (as we term it) his friends, whilft he's in directitude.

I Ser. Directitude what's that?

3 Ser. But when they fhall fee, Sir, his Creft up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burroughs (like conies after rain) and revel all with him.

1 Ser. But when goes this forward?

I 3 Ser. To morrow, to day, prefently, you fhall have the drum ftruck up this afternoon: tis, as it were, a parcel of their feaft, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.

2 Ser. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again: this peace is worth nothing, but to ruft iron, encrease tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

1 Ser. Let me have war, fay I; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night; it's fprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy, mull'd, deaf, fleepy, infenfible, a getter of more baftard children than war's 'a deftroyer of men.

2 Ser. 'Tis fo; and as war in fome fort may be faid to be a ravisher, fo it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.

1 Ser. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.

3 Ser. Reafon, because they then lefs need one another the wars, for my mony. I hope, to fee Romans as cheap as Volfcians.

They are rifing, they are rifing.

Both. In, in, in, in.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, a publick Place in Rome.

Enter Sicinius and Brutus.

Sic. (33) WE 7E hear not of him, neither need we fear

him;

His remedies are tame i'th' present peace,
And quietness o'th' People, which before
Were in wild hurry. Here we make his Friends
Blush, that the world goes well; who rather had,
Though they themselves did fuffer by't, beheld
Diffentious numbers pestring streets, than fee
Our Tradesmen finging in their shops, and going
About their functions friendly.

Enter Menenius.

df b3 Bru. We ftood to't in good time. Is this Menenius? Sic. 'Tis he, 'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. Hail, Sir!

Men. Hail to you Both!

Sic. Your Coriolanus is not much mifs'd, but with his Friends; the Commonwealth doth stand, and fo would do, were he more angry at it.

Men. All's well, and might have been much better, if he could have temporiz❜d.

Sic. Where is he, hear you?

(33) We hear not of him, neither need we fear him,

His Remedies are tame: the prefent Peace

And Quietness o'th' People, which before

Were in wild burry.] As this Paffage has been hitherto pointed, it labours under two Abfurdities; firft, that the Peace abroad, and the Quietness of the Populace at home, are call'd Marcius's Remedies; whereas, in Truth, these were the Impediments of his Revenge: In the next place, the latter Branch of the Sentence is imperfect and ungrammatical. My Regulation prevents both thefe Inconveniencies.

Men.

Men. Nay, I hear nothing:

His mother and his wife hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four Citizens.

All. The Gods preferve you Both!

Sic. Good-e'en, neighbours.

Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all. 1 Cit. Our felves, our wives, and children, on our knees,

Are bound to pray for you both.

Sic. Live and thrive.

Bru. Farewel, kind neighbours:

We wish'd, Coriolanus had lov'd you, as we did.
All. Now the Gods keep you!
Both Tri. Farewel, farewel.

[Exeunt Citizens.

Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,

Than when thefe fellows ran about the streets,
Crying confufion.

Bru. Caius Marcius was

A worthy officer i'th' war, but infolent,

O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving.

Sie. And affecting one fole Throne, Without Affiftance.

Men. Nay, I think not fo.

Sic. We had by this, to all our lamentation,

If he had gone forth Conful, found it fo.

Bru. The Gods have well prevented it, and Rome

Sits fafe and ftill without him.

Enter Edile.

Edile. Worthy Tribunes,

There is a flave, whom we have put in prifon,
Reports, the Volfcians with two feveral Powers
Are entred in the Roman Territories;

And with the deepest malice of the war
Destroy what lies before 'em.

Men. 'Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Marcius' Banishment,
Thrufts forth his horns again into the world;