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Mar. May these same instruments, which you

profane,

Never sound more! when drums and trumpets

shall

I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-faced soothing!

When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,

Let him be made an overture for the wars !

No more, I say ! For that I have not wash'd
My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch,-
Which, without note, here's many else have done,—
You shout me forth

In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I loved my little should be dieted

In praises sauced with lies.

Com.
Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report than grateful
To us that give you truly by your patience,
If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,
Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it
known,

As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,

With all the applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS ! Bear

The addition nobly ever!

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums. All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !

Cor. I will go wash ;

44. soothing, flattery.

46. Let him be made an overture for the wars, let silk (in

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stead of steel) be made a sign of war. 'Him' is emphatic.

L.

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush, or no: howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
To undercrest your good addition

To the fairness of my power.

Com.
So, to our tent;
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate,

For their own good and ours.

Lart.

I shall, my lord.

Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg Of my lord general.

Com.

Take 't; 'tis yours.

Cor. I sometime lay here in Corioli

What is 't?

At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;

But then Aufidius was within my view,

And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor host freedom.

Com.

O, well begg'd!

Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Lart. Marcius, his name?

Cor.

70

80

By Jupiter! forgot. 90

I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.

Have we no wine here?

Com.

Go we to our tent:

The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
It should be look'd to: come.

72. undercrest, to wear the ability.'
title as a crest. ·
To justify the
cognomen to the best of my

[Exeunt.

77. articulate, negociate for peace.

SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces.

A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

First Sol. Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.

Auf. Condition!

I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find

I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me ;
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat. By the elements,

If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,

He's mine, or I am his mine emulation

:

Hath not that honour in 't it had; for where

I thought to crush him in an equal force,

True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way
Or wrath or craft may get him.

First Sol.

He's the devil.

Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's

poison'd

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
Embarguements all of fury, shall lift up

2. good condition, good terms.
15. potch, thrust.

22. Embarguements ('embargos'), impediments.

The

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word seems to be suggested by the Sp. embargamientos in the same sense. The vulgate 'embarquements' is an easy corruption. L.

Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I

Wash my fierce hand in 's heart.

city;

Go you to the

Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome.

First Sol.

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove: I

pray you

"Tis south the city mills-bring me word thither How the world goes, that to the pace of it

I may spur on my journey.

First Sol.

I shall, sir.

[Exeunt.

30

ACT II.

SCENE I. Rome. A public place.

Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the
people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS.

Men. The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.

Bru. Good or bad?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.

31. In 1588 four corn mills were built on the south side of the Thames by the Corporation

of London, close to the Globe Theatre.

Men. Pray you, who does the wolf love?

Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.

Men.

lamb.

He's a bear indeed, that lives like a You two are old men tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Both. Well, sir.

Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two have not in abundance ?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.

Sic. Especially in pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boasting.

Men. This is strange now: do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the right-hand file? do you?

Both. Why, how are we censured?

Men. Because you talk of pride now,-will you not be angry?

Both. Well, well, sir, well.

Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud?

Bru. We do it not alone, sir.

Men. I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you could turn your eyes toward 40. single, paltry, insignificant.

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