A fick Man's Appetite, who defires most that,
Which would encrease his Evil. He that depends
Upon your Favours, fwims with fins of Lead,
And hews down Oaks with Rushes. Hang yetruft ye!
With every Minute you do change a Mind,
And call him Noble, that was now your Hate,
Him vile, that was your Garland. What's the Matter,
That in the feveral Places of the City,

You cry against the Noble Senate, who

(Under the Gods) keep you in awe, which elfe
Would feed on one another? What's their feeking?
Men. For Corn at their own Rates, whereof they say,
The City is well ftor❜d.

Mar. Hang 'em: They fay!

They'll fit by th' Fire, and prefume to know
What's done i'th' Capitol; who's like to rife,

Who thrives, and who declines: Side Factions, and give out
Conjectural Marriages; making Parties ftrong,
And feebling fuch as ftand not in their liking,
Below their cobled Shooes. They fay, there's Grain enough!
Would the Nobility lay afide their Ruth,

And let me ufe a Sword, I'd make a Quarry
With thousands of thefe quarter'd Slaves, as high
As I could pitch my Lance.

Men. Nay, thefe are almoft throughly perfuaded:

For though abundantly they lack Difcretion,

Yet are they paffing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
What fays the other Troop?

Mar. They are diffolv'd; hang 'em,

They faid they were an hungry, figh'd forth Proverbs; That Hunger broke Stone Walls- -that Dogs must eat,That Meat was made for Mouths that the Gods fent not Cors for the Rich Men only- -With thefe fhreds

They vented their Complainings; which being answer'd, And a Petition granted them, a ftrange one,

To break the Heart of Generofity,

And make bold Power lock pale; they threw their Caps As they would hang them on the Horns o'th' Moon, Shooting their Emulation.

Men. What is granted them?

Mar.

1913

Mar. Five Tribunes to defend their vulgar Wisdoms, Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus, Sicinius Velutus, and I know not.

S'death,

The Rabble should have first unrooft the City

E'er fo prevail'd with me; it will in time

Win upon Power, and throw forth greater Themes
For Infurrections arguing.

Men. This is ftrange.

Mar. Go get you home, you Fragments.
Enter a Messenger.

Mef. Where's Caius Martins?

Mar. Here what's the Matter?

Mef. The News is, Sir, the Volfcies are in Arms. Mar. I am glad on't, then we shall have means to vent Our mufty fuperfluity. See, our best Elders

Enter Sicinius Velutus, Junius Brutus, Cominius, Titus Lartius, with other Senators.

1 Sen. Martius, 'tis true, that you have lately told us, The Volfcies are in Arms.

Mar. They have a Leader,

Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't.

I fin in envying his Nobility:

And were I any thing but what I am,

I could with me only he.

Com. You have fought together?

Mar. Were half to half the World by th' Ears, and he Upon my Party, I'd revolt, to make

Only my Wars with him. He is a Lion

That I am proud to hunt.

1 Sen. Then worthy Martius,

Attend upon Cominius to thefe Wars.
Com. It is your former promise.

Mar. Sir, it is;

And I am conftant: Titus Lartius, thou

Shalt fee me once more ftrike at Tullus's Face.

What, art thou ftiff? Stand'ft out?

Tit. No, Caius Martius,

I'll lean upon one Crutch, and fight with t'other;
E'er ftay behind this Business.

Men. Oh true bred.

1 Sen. Your Company to th' Capitol; where I know Our greatest Friends attend us.

Tit. Lead you on; follow Cominius, we muft follow you, right worthy your Priority,

Com. Noble Martius.

1 Sen. Hence to your Homes-be gone. [To the Citizens. Mar. Let them follow,

The Volfcies have much Corn; take thefe Rats thither
To gnaw their Garners. Worshipful Mutineers,
Your Valour puts well forth; pray follow.

[Exeunt. [Citizens fteal away. Manent Sicinius and Brutus. Sic. Was ever Man fo proud as is this Martius? Bru. He has no equal.

Sic. When we were chofen Tribunes for the PeopleBru. Mark'd you his Lip and Eyes?

Sic. Nay, but his Taunts.

Bru. Being mov'd, he will not fpare to gird the Gods. Sic. Be-mock the modeft Moon.

Bru. The prefent Wars devour him, he is grown

Too proud to be fo valiant.

Sic. Such a Nature, tickled with good Succefs, difdains the Shadow which he treads on at Noon, but I do wonder, his Infolence can brook to be commanded under Cominius? Bru. Fame, at the which he aims,

In whom already he is well grac'd, cannot
Better be held, nor more attain'd than by
A place below the fift; for what miscarries
Shall be the General's fault, tho' he perform
To the utmost of a Man; and giddy cenfure
Will then cry out of Martius: Oh, if he
Had born the Bufinefs-

Sic. Befides, if things go well,
Opinion, that fo fticks on Martins, fhall

Of his demerits rob Cominius.

Bru. Come; half all Cominius's Honours are to Martins, Though Martius earn'd them not; and all his Faults

To Martius fhall be Honours, though indeed

In ought he merit not.

Sic. Let's hence, and hear

How the difpatch is made, and in what fashion,
More than his fingularity, he goes

Upon this present Action.

Br

Bru. Let's along.

SCENE II.

Coriolus.

[Exeunt.

Enter Tullus Aufidius with Senators of Coriolus.

I Sen. So, your Opinion is, Aufidius,

That they of Rome are entred in our Counsels,
And know how we proceed.

Auf. Is it not yours?

What ever hath been thought on in this State,
That could be brought to bodily act, e'er Rome
Had Circumvention? 'tis not four Days gone
Since I heard thence---- these are the Words----I think
I have the Letter here, yes-here it is;
They have preft a Power, but it is not known
Whether for Eaft or Weft; the Dearth is great,
The People Mutinous; and it is rumour'd
Cominius, Martius your old Enemy,
(Who is of Rome worse hated than of you)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
These three lead on this Preparation.

Whither 'tis bent-moft likely, 'tis for you:
Confider of it.

1 Sen. Our Army's in the Field:

We never yet made doubt, but Rome was ready
To answer us.

Auf. Nor did you think it folly

To keep your great pretences veil'd, 'till when
They needs muft fhew themselves, which in the hatching
It feem'd appear'd to Rome. By the discovery,
We fhall be shortned in our aim, which was
To take in many Towns, e'er (almost) Rome
Should know we are a-foot.

2 Sen. Noble Aufidius,

Take your Commiffion, hie you to your Bands,
Let us alone to guard Coriolus,

If they fet down before's: for the remove
Bring up your Army: But, I think, you'll find
They've not prepar'd for us.

Auf. O, doubt not that,

I fpeak from Certainties. Nay more,

Some parcels of their Power are forth already,

And

your

And only hitherward. I leave Honours.
If we and Caius Martius chance to meet,
'Tis fworn between us, we shall ever ftrike,
'Till one can do no more.

All. The Gods affift you.

Auf. And keep your Honours fafe.
I Sen. Farewel

2 Sen. Farewel.

All. Farewel.

SCENE III. Rome.

[Exeunt.

Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, They fet them down on two low Stools, and Sew.

Vol. I pray you, Daughter, Sing, or exprefs your felf in a more comfortable fort: If my Son were my Husband, I would freelier rejoice in that abfence wherein he won Honour, than in the Embracements of his Bed, where he should fhew most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only Son of my Womb; when Youth with Comliness plucked all gaze his way; when for a Day of Kings Entreaties, a Mother should not fell him an hour from her beholding, I, confidering how Honour would become fuch a Perfon, that it was no better than Picture-like to hang by th' Wall, if Renown made it not ftir, was pleas'd to let him feek Danger where he was like to find Fame: To a cruel War I fent him, from whence he return'd, his Brows bound with Oak. I tell thee, Daughter, I fprang no more in Joy at first hearing he was à Man-child, than now in firft feeing he had ved himself a Man.

pro

Vir. But had he died in the Bufinefs, Madam, how then ?

Vol. Then his good Report fhould have been my Son; I therein would have found Iffue. Hear me profefs fincerely had I a dozen Sons each in my love alike, and none lefs dear than thine, and my good Martius, I had rather eleven dye nobly for their Country, than one voluptuously furfeit out of Action.

Enter a Gentlewoman.

Gent. Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to vifit you.
Vir. Befeech you, give me leave to retire my self.
Vol. Indeed thou shalt not:

(As