Sivut kuvina

That which shall break his Neck, or hazard mine,
When e'er we come to our Account.

Licu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?

Auf. All places yield to him e'er he fits down, And the Nobility of Rome are his: The Senators and Patricians love him too : The Tribunes are no Soldiers; and their People Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome, As is the Aspray to the Fish, who takes it By Soveraignty of Nature. First, he was A noble Servant to them, but he could not Carry his Honours even; whether 'twas Pride, Which out of daily Fortune ever taints The happy Man; whether defe& of Judgment, To fail in the disposing of those Chances Which he was Lord of; or whether Nature, Not to be other than one thing, not moving. From th' Cask to th’ Cushion, but commanding Peace Even with the same austerity and garb, As he controlld the War. But one of these, (As he hath spices of them all) not all, For I dare so far free him, made him fear'd, So hated, and so banish'd; but he has a Merit To choak it in the utt'rance : So our Virtues, Lye in th' interpretation of the time, And Power, unto it self most commendable, Hath not a Tomb so evident as a Chair T'extol what it hath done. One Fire drives out one Fire; one Nail, one Nail; Rights by Rights fouler, Strengths by Strengths do fail. Come let's away ; when, Caius, Rome is thine, Thou art poor'st of all, then shortly art thou mine.






Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus, with others. Men. I'll not go: You hear what he hath said

Which was sometime his General; who lov'd him
Io a most dear particular. He calld me Father:
But what o'that? Go you that banish'd him,
A mile before his Tent, fall down and kneel
The way into his Mercy: Nay, if he coy'd
To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.

Com. He would not seem to know me.
Men. Do you hear ?

Com. Yet one time he did call me' by my Name:
I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus,
He would not answer to ; forbad all Names,
He was a kind of Nothing, Titleless,
'Till he had forg'd himself a Name o'ch' Fire
Of burning Rome.

Men. Why, so; you have made good work:
A pair of Tribunes, that have wrack'd for Rome,
To make Coals cheap: A noble Memory.

Com. I minded him, how Royal 'twas to pardon
When it was less expected. He reply'd,
It was a bare Petition of a State
To one whom they had punish'd.

Men. Very well, could he say less?

Com. I offer'd to awaken his regard
For's private Friends. His answer to me was,
He could not stay to pick them, in a pile
Of poisom multy Chaff. He said, 'ewas folly,
For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt
And still to nore the Offence.

Men. For one poor grain or two ?
I am one of those : his Mother, Wife, his Child,
And this brave Fellow too: we are the Grains,
You are the musty Chaff, and you are smelt
Above the MoonWe must be burnt for you.
Vol. IV.




Sic. Nay, pray be patient : If you refuse your aid
In this so never-needed help, yet do not
Upbraid us with our Distress. But sure if you
would be your Country's Pleader, your good Tongue,
More than the instant Army we can make,
Might stop our Country-man.

Men. No: I'll not meddle.
Sic. Pray you go to him.
Men, What should I do?

Bru. Only make trial what your Love can do
For Rome, towards Martius.

Men. Well, and say that Martius return me,
As Cominius return'd, unheard : what then?
But as a discontented Friend, grief-shot
With his unkindness. Say't be lo ?

Sic. Yet your good will
Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure

you intended well.
Men. I'll undertake it :
I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip,
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
He was not taken well, he had not din'd.
The Veins unfill'd, our Blood is cold, and then
We powt upon the Morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
Thele Pipes, and these Conveyances of our Blood
With Wine and feeding, we have suppler Souls
Than in our Priest-like Falts: therefore I'll watch him
'Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.

Bru. You know the very Rode into his Kindness,
And cannot lose your way.

Men. Good faith, I'll prove him,
Speed how it will. I shall e'er long have knowledge
Of my fuccess. .

[Exi!. Com. He'll never hear him. Sic. Not ?

Com. I tell you, he does fic in Gold, his Eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome ; and his Injury
The Goaler to his Pity. I kneel'd before him,
'Twas very faintly he said, Rise': dismissd me
Thus with his speechless hand. What he would do


A Camp .

He sent in Writing after me ; what he would not,
Bound with an Oath to yield to his Conditions :
So that all hope is vain, unless his noble Mother,
And his Wife (who as I hear) mean to follicic him
For Mercy to his Country: therefore let's hence,
And with our fair Intreaties histe them on. [Excunt.


Enter Menenius to the Watch or Guard,
i Wat. Stay : whence are you?
2 Wat, Stand, and go back.

Men. You guard like Men, 'tis well. But by your leave I am an Officer of State, and come to speak with Coriolanus, 'I Watch. From whence? Men, From Rome,

1. Wat. You may not pass, you must return : our General wilt no more hear from thence.

2 Wut. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with Fire, before You'll speak with Coriolanus,

Men. Good my Friends, If you

have heard your General talk of Rome, And of his Friends there, it is Lots to Blanks, My Name hath touch'd your Ears; it is Menenius.

i Wut. Be it fo, go back: the virtue of your Name is noe here passable.

Men. I tell thee, Fellow,
Thy General is my Lover : I have been
Tne Book of his gond Asts, whence Men have read
His Fame unparallelld, happily amplified :
For I have ever verified my Friends,
(of whom he's Chief) with all the fize that verity
Would without lapling suffer : Nay, sometimes,
Like to a Bowl upon a subtil ground
I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
Have, almoft, stamp'd the Leasing. Therefore, Fellow,
I must have leave to pass.

I War. Faith, Sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf, as you have utter'd words in your own, you should not pass here : no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chaftly. Therefore go back.

Men. Prithee, Fellow, remember my Name is Menenins, always Fađionary on the party of Gg 2

2 Wat.

your General.


2 Wat. Howsoever you bave been his Liar, as you lay you have; I am one that telling true under him, must lay you cannot pals. Therefore


Men. Has he din'd, can'lt thou tell? For I would not
speak with him 'till after Dinner.

1 War. You are a Roman, are you?
Men, I am, as thy General is.

I Wat. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have puth'd out of your Gates the very Defender of them, and in a violent popular ignorance, given your Enemy your Shield, think to front his Revenges with the easie Groans of old Women, the Virginal Palms of your Daughters, or with the palfied intercession of such a decay'd Dotard, as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intendid Fire your City is ready to fame in, with such weak Breath as this? No, you are deceiv’d, therefore back to Rome, and prepare for your Execution : you are condemnd, our General has sworn you out of Reprieve and Pardon.

Men. Sirrah, if thy Captain knew I were here,
He would use me with Estimation.

1 Wat. Come, my Captain knows you not.
Men. I mean thy General.

1 Wat. My General cares not for you. Back, I say, go;
lest I let forth your half Pint of Blood. Back, that's the
utmost of your having, back.
Men. Nay, but Fellow, Fellow.

Enter Coriolanus with Aufidius.
Cor. What's the Matter ?

Men. Now you Champion; I'll say an Errant for you; you shall know now that I am in Estimation ; you shall perceives that a Jack-gardant cannot Office me from my Son Coriolanus, guess but my Entertainment with him ; if thou stand'st not i'th' State of Hanging, or of fome Death more long in Spectatorship, and crueller in suffering, behold now presently, and (woon for what's to come upon thee. The glorious Gods fit in hourly Synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee ro'worse than thy old Father Menenius does. O my Son, my Son! thou art preparing Fire for us ; look thee, here's Water to qnench it. I was hardly mov'd to come to thee; but being assured

[ocr errors]


« EdellinenJatka »