Your knees to me? to your corrected son? ; Thou art my warrior To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars Vol. Your knee, sirrah. [self, Cor. never Be held by you denials. Do not bid me O; no more, no more! Whereto we are bound,-together with thy victory, Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose [son, Our wish, which side should win; for either That brought thee to this world. Ay, and mine, Boy. 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. As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit This we receiv'd;" and each in either side great son, The end of war's uncertain; but this certain, Vol. You have said you will not grant us anything; 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 May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. [we'll Cor. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request? [our raiment, Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, And state of bodies, would bewray what life We have led since thy exile. Think with thy-But with his last attempt he wip'd it out; self, Destroyed his country; and his name remains How more unfortunate than all living women To the ensuing age abhorred." Speak to me, Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should [comforts, Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow; Making the mother, wife, and child, to see son: Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man you: Than can our reasons.-There is no man in In Italy, and her confederate arms, More bound to his mother; yet here he lets [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Rome. A Public Place. Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy ; brood, Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely knees. That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which us: 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. 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. Men. So did he me: and he no more reThis boy, that cannot tell what he would have, members his mother now, than an eight-yearBut kneels and holds up hands for fellowship, old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe Does reason our petition with more strength grapes when he walks, he moves like an enThan thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go:gine, and the ground shrinks before his treadThis fellow had a Volscian to his mother; His wife is in Corioli, and his child Like him by chance.-Yet give us our deI am hush'd until our city be afire, [spatch And then I'll speak a little. Cor. [Holding Volumnia by the hand.] O, Were you in my stead, would you have heard [you, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray At difference in thee: out of that I'll work [The ladies make signs to Coriolanus. ing he is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in. Mark Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. 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. The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, Sic. Enter a second Messenger. What's the news? 2 Mess. Good news, good news :-the ladies have prevail'd, The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone: Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown As the recomforted through the gates. Why, 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of [Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums [either I know it; And my pretext to strike at him admits A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd [heighten'd, Mine honour for his truth who being so 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, unswayable, 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 of: 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; nay, let him choose They are near the city? Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, 2 Mess. Almost at point to enter. My best and freshest men; serv'd his designSic. 2 Mess. Great cause to give great thanks. We will meet them, 1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius; Welcome, ladies, Welcome ! [A flourish with drums and trumpets. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-Antium. A Public Place. Most welcome! 1 Con. How is it with our general? Auf ments In mine own person; holp to reap the fame At a few drops of women's rheum, which are [Drums and trumpets sound, with great I Con. Your native town you enter'd like a sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, Even so, As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, 2 Con. If you do hold the same intent, wherein Say no more: What faults he made before the last, I think, Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your No more infected with my country's love Do more than counterpoise, a full third part, Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, [hound! Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: Alone I did it.-Boy! Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy brag'Fore your own eyes and ears? [gart, Conspirators. Let him die for't. Citizens. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to 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! With no less honour to the Antiates, deliver, Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n To use my lawful sword! Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold! Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. O Tullus! 2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. [be quiet.3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, Put up your swords. Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger joice [ours That he is thus cut off. Please it your hon- You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously Auf. No more. Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast grave lords, His own impatience [heart Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. made my Let's make the best of it. Boy! O Auf. My rage is gone; And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up :[one.-Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes.--Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. A dead march sounded. Must give this cur the lie and his own notion (Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that Must bear my beating to his grave) shall join 1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. I Cinna, Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c. SCENE,-Rome: afterwards near Sardis and Philippi. ACT I. SCENE I.-Rome. A Street. Enter Flavius, Marullus, and a rabble of Flav. Hence! hence, home, you idle crea- Is this a holiday? What! know you not, proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handywork. [to-day? Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? Of your profession?-Speak, what trade art What tributaries follow him to Rome, 1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter. [thou? To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy You blocks, you stones, you worse than sense rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on ?You, sir, what trade are you? 1 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience: which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow ! 2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. less things, O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, 2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with |