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Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.
Vol.

;

Thou art my warrior
I holp to frame thee.-Do you know this lady?
Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple :-dear Valeria !
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,
Pointing to the child.
Which, by the interpretation of full time,
May show like all yourself.
Cor.
The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou
mayst prove

To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!

Vol.

Your knee, sirrah.
Cor. That's my brave boy!
Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and my-
Are suitors to you.

[self,

Cor.
I beseech you, peace:
Or, if you'd ask, remember this before,-
The things I have forsworn to grant may

never

Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanics :-tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural desire not
To allay my rages and revenges with
Your colder reasons.

O; no more, no more!

Whereto we are bound,-together with thy victory,

Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose

[son,
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy per-
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win; for either
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led [thou
With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till [thee
These wars determine: if I cannot persuade
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's
womb,

That brought thee to this world.
Vir.

Ay, and mine,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your
Living to time.
[name
He shall not tread on me ;
I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll

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.
If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volsces whom you serve, you might con-
demn us,

As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
May say, "This mercy we have show'd;" the
Romans,

This we receiv'd;" and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, "Be bless'd
For making up this peace!" Thou know'st,

great son,

The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ," The man was
noble,

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
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
Alas, how can we for our country pray,

son:

Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
[air,
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not
speak?

Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak
[boy :
He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou,
Ferhaps thy childishness will move him more

you:

Than can our reasons.-There is no man in In Italy, and her confederate arms,
the world
[me prate Could not have made this peace.

More bound to his mother; yet here he lets
Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in
thy life

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Rome. A Public Place.
Enter Menenius and Sicinius.
Men. See you yond' coigne o' the Capitol,

Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy ;
When she, (poor hen !) fond of no second-yond corner-stone?
[home, Sic. Why, what of that?

brood,

Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague
thee,

knees.

That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our
[pride,
To his surname, Coriolanus, 'longs more
Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
This is the last :-so we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold

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,
mother, mother!
[do ope,
What have you done? Behold, the heavens
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother! mother! O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome;
But, for your son,-believe it, O, believe it,-
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come.-
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Au-
fidius,

Were you in my stead, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was mov'd withal.
Cor.
I dare be sworn you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me for my
part,

[you,

I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray
Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife!
Auf. [Aside.] I am glad thou hast set thy
mercy and thy honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.

[The ladies make signs to Coriolanus.
Cor.
Ay, by and by;
But we will drink together; and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, would have counter-seal'd.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you; all the swords

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.

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The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune,
And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.

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:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
Sic.
Friend,
Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
2 Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt
of it?

Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown
tide,

As the recomforted through the gates. Why, 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of
hark you!
Makes the survivor heir of all
Auf.

[Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums
beaten, all together. Shouting also within.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Ro-
Make the sun dance. Hark you! [mans,
[Shouting again.
Men.
This is good news;
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you, [day:
A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-
This morning for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tid-
Accept my thankfulness.
[ings; next,
Sir, we have all

[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.
Sic.

We will meet them,
And help the joy.
[Going.
Enter the ladies, accompanied by Senators,
Patricians, and people. They pass.

1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of
Rome!

Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And make triumphant fires; strew flowers be-
fore them:

Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius;
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
Cry," Welcome, ladies, welcome!'
All.

Welcome, ladies, Welcome ! [A flourish with drums and trumpets. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Antium. A Public Place.
Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the lords of the city I am here:
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse,
The city ports, by this, hath enter'd, and
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words: despatch.
[Exeunt Attendants.
Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius'
faction.

Most welcome!

1 Con. How is it with our general? Auf

ments

In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He waged me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.
I Con.
So he did, my lord:
The army marvell'd at it; and, in the last,
When we had carried Rome, and that we look'd
For no less spoil than glory,—
Auf.
There was it ;-
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon
him.

At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and trumpets sound, with great
shouts of the people.
post,

I Con. Your native town you enter'd like a
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.
2 Con.
And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base
With giving him glory.
[throats tear
3 Con.
Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he express himself, or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your

sword,

Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury
His reasons with his body.

Even so,

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As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.

2 Con.

If you do hold the same intent, wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.

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Say no more:

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What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end
Where he was to begin, and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yieiding,-this admits no excuse.
Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus, with drums and colours; a
crowd of Citizens with him.

Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your
soldier ;

No more infected with my country's love
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage, led your wars even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have
brought home,

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made
peace,

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!
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o' the earth. His last offence to us
Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
Cor.
O that I had him,

With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans; and we here With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,

deliver,

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Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost
thou think

I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n
Coriolanus in Corioli?
[name

To use my lawful sword!

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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
this rage,

Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll re-

joice

[ours

That he is thus cut off. Please it your hon-
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your royal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome
(I say your city) to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o' the war; but, at his nurse's tears,
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart I Lord.
Bear from hence his body,-
Look'd wondering each at other.
And mourn you for him!-let him be regarded
Cor.
Hear'st thou, Mars? As the most noble corse that ever herald
Auf Name not the god, thou boy of tears! Did follow to his urn.
Cor.
Ha! 2 Lord.

Auf. No more.

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast
Too great for what contains it.
slave!-
Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
I was forc'd to scold.
Your judgments, my

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
To thrust the lie unto him.

1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak.

I

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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
Citizens.

Flav. Hence! hence, home, you idle crea-
tures, get you home;

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day without the sign

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.
Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

less things,

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made a universal shout,
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for
this fault,

2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with
the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's mat-
ters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I
am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when
they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As Assemble all the poor men of your sort;

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