Citizens. Down with him! down with him! Senators, etc. Weapons, weapons, weapons! [They all bustle about Coriolanus, crying 'Tribunes!' 'Patricians !' 'Citizens !' " What, ho!' 'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!' 'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!' Men. What is about to be? I am out of breath; Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes 190 To the people! Coriolanus, patience! Speak, good Sicinius. Sic. Hear me, people; peace! Citizens. Let's hear Our tribune Speak, speak, speak. peace! Sic. You are at point to lose your liberties: Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, Whom late you have named for consul. Fie, fie, fie! Men. First Sen. To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. Citizens. The people are the city. True, Bru. By the consent of all, we were establish'd The people's magistrates. Citizens. You so remain. Men. And so are like to do. Com. That is the way to lay the city flat; To bring the roof to the foundation, And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, In heaps and piles of ruin. Sic. This deserves death. Bru. Or let us stand to our authority, Or let us lose it. Upon the part o' We do here pronounce, the people, in whose power We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy 200 210 Of present death. Sic. Therefore lay hold of him; Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence Bru. Ediles, seize him! Hear me one word; Citizens. Yield, Marcius, yield! Men. Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. Ed. Peace, peace! Men. [To Brutus] Be that you seem, truly your country's friend, And temperately proceed to what you would Thus violently redress. Bru. Sir, those cold ways, That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him, And bear him to the rock. Cor. No, I'll die here. 220 There's some among you have beheld me fighting: Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. Men. Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile. Bru. Lay hands upon him. Help Marcius, help, Men. [In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ediles, Men. Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! All will be naught else. Sec. Sen. Get you gone. 230 213. the rock Tarpeian, a precipice on the Capitol, whence criminals were thrown. Com. We have as many friends as enemies. Men. Shall it be put to that? First Sen. Stand fast; The gods forbid ! I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; Men. Cor. I would they were barbarians—as they are, Though in Rome litter'd-not Romans-as they are not, Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the two tribunes. Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend Like interrupted waters and o'erbear What they are used to bear. Men. Pray you, be gone: 150 I'll try whether my old wit be in request With those that have but little: this must be patch'd I With cloth of any colour. Com. [Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others. 242. One time will owe another; i.e. if the plebeians win Nay, come away. to-day we shall do so to-morrow. 248. tag, rabble. A Patrician. This man has marr'd his fortune. What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; He heard the name of death. Here's goodly work! Sec. Pat. [A noise within. 260 I would they were a-bed! Men. I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance! Could he not speak 'em fair? Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble. Where is this viper That would depopulate the city and Be every man himself? Men. You worthy tribunes, Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law, And therefore law shall scorn him further trial Than the severity of the public power Which he so sets at nought. Men. Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt With modest warrant. Sic. Sir, how comes 't that you Have holp to make this rescue? 275. cry havoc, proclaim war to the death. VOL. X 81 G Men. Hear me speak: As I do know the consul's worthiness, So can I name his faults, Sic. Consul! what consul? He consul! 280 Men. The consul Coriolanus. Citizens. No, no, no, no, no. Men. If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, I may be heard, I would crave a word or two; Sic. Speak briefly then; For we are peremptory to dispatch This viperous traitor: to eject him hence He dies to-night. Men. Now the good gods forbid Sic. He's a disease that must be cut away. A brand to the end o' the world. 288. one, constant, perpetual. But 'our' is a tempting emendation. 290 300 |