Sivut kuvina

And you

What Peace you'll make, advise me : For my part,
I'll nor to Rome, I'll back with you, and pray you
Stand to me in this Cause. O Mother! Wife!

Anf. I am glad thou hast set thy Mercy, and thy Honour
A difference in thee; out of that I'll work [ Aside.
My self a former Fortune.
Cor. Ay, by and by; but we will drink together;
Thall bear

[To Vol. Virg, &c.
A better witness back than words, which we
On like Conditions, will have counter-Sealid.
Come, enter with us : Ladies, you deserve
To have a Temple built you: All the Swords
In Italy, and her Confederate Arms
Could not have made this Peacc.

[Exeunt, SCENE III. Rome.

Enter Menenius and Sicinius. Men. See you yond Coin o'ch'Capitol, yond Corner Scones -Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If ic be poslible for you to displace it with your little Finger, there is some hope the Ladies of Rome, espe, cially his Mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is nó hope in't, our Throats are sentenc'd, and stay upon Execution,

Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a Man.

Men. There is difference between a Grub and a Butterfly, yet your Butterfly was a Grub; this Martius is grown from Man to Dragon: He has Wings, he's more than a creeping, thing. ; Sic. He lov'd his Mother dearly.

Men. So did he me : And he no more remembers his Mother now, than an eight years old Horse. The tartness of his Face fours ripe Grapes. When he walks, he moves like an Engine, and the Ground shrinks before his Treading. He is able to pierce a Corflet with his Eye : Talks like a Knell, and his hum is a Battery. He fits in his State as a thing made for Alexander, What he bids be done is finish'd with his bidding. He wants nothing of a God, but Eternity, and a Heaven to Throne in. Sic. Yes, Mercy, if you report him truly,


Men. I paint him in the Character. Mark what Mercy his Mother shall bring from him ; there is no more Mercy in him, than there is Milk in a Male-Tyger; 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 banish'd him, we respected not them: And he returning to break our Necks, they refpe& not us.

Enter a Messenger. Mes. Sir, if you'd save your Life flye to your House, 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.

Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the News ?

Mes. Good News, good News, the Ladies have prevail’d, The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Martius gone: A merrier Day did never yet greet Rome, No, not th’ Expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic. Friend, art thou certain this is true? Is't most certain ?

Mef. 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 fo hurried the blown Tide, As the recomforted through th'Gates. Why, hark you.

[Trumpets, Hantboys, Drums beat, all together. The Trumpets, Sackbuts, Psalteries and Fifes, Tabors and Cymbals, and the shouting Romans Make the Sun dance. Hark you.

[Afbout within. 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, A Sea and Land full; you have pray'd well to Day: This Morning, for ten thousand of your Throats, I'd not have given a doit. Hark how they joy.

[Sound still with the Shouts. Sic. First, the Gods bless you for your Tidings : Next, accept my Thankfulness.

Mes. Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks. Sic. They are near the City?


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Mes. Almost at point to enter. Sic. We'll meet them, and help the Joy. [Exeunt. Enter two Senators, with Ladies passing over the Stage with

other Lords. Sen. Behold our Patroness, the life of Rome : Call all your Tribes together, praise the Gods, And make triumphant Fires, strew Flowers before them: Unshout the Noise that banish'd Martius; Repeal him with the welcome of his Mother: Cry, welcome, Ladies, welcome. All. Welcome Ladies, welcome.

[Exeunt. [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpers. SCENE IV. Antium.

Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the Lords o'th' City, I am here:
Deliver them this Paper: Having read it,
Bid them repair to th’ 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 t'appear before the People, hoping
To purge himself with words. Dispatch.

Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius's Faétion.
Most welcome.

I Con. How is it with our General ?

Anf. Even so, as with a Man by his own Alms impoyfon'd, and with his Charity Nain.

2 Con. Most noble Sir, if you do hold the same intent, Wherein you wish'd us Parties; we'll deliver you of your

great danger. Auf. Sir, I cannot tell, We must proceed as we do find the People.

3 Con. The People will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the Survivor Heir of all.

Auf. I know it;
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good Constru&ion. · I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mire Honour for his Truth; who being so heighten’d,
He water'd his new Plants with dews of Flatcery,
Seducing so my Friends; and to this end,


He bow'd his Nature, never known before,
But to be rough, uoswayable, 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 banith'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 defires; nay, let him chuse
Out of my Files, his Proje&s to accomplish,
My best and freshest Men ; ferv'd his Designments
In mine own Person; hop'd to reap the Fame
Which he did make all his; and took some Pride
To do my self this wrong ; 'cill at the last,
I seem'd his Follower, not Partner; and
He wag'd me with his Countenance, as if
I had been Mercenary.

i Con. So he did, my Lord:
The Army marvelld at it, and in the last,
When he had carried Rome, and that we took'd
For no less Spoil, than Glory

Auf. There was it ;
For which my Sinews shall be stretcht upon him :
Ac a few drops of Womens Rheum, which are
As cheap as Lies, he sold the Blood and Labour
Of our great Adion ; therefore shall he dye,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But hark.
[Drums and Trumpets found, with great shouts of the People

. i con. Your Native Town you enter'd like a Poft, And had no welcomes home, but he returns Splitting the Air with Noise.

2 Con. And patient Fools,
Whose Children he hath Plain, their base Throats tear
With giving him Glory.

3 Con. Therefore at your vantage,
E'er 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:


Auf. Say no more, here come the Lords.

.. Enter the Lords of the City. All Lords. You are most welcome home.

Auf. I have not deserv'd it.
But, worthy Lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you?

All. We have.

i Lord. And grieve to hear it.
What Faults he made before the last, I think
Might have found easie 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 yielding ; this admits no excuse.

Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus marching with Drum and Colours, the

Commons being 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
Doth more than Counterpoise a full third part
The charges of the A&ion. We have made Peace
With no lefs Honour to the Antiates,
Than Shame to th’ Romans: And we here deliver,
Subscrib’d by th. Consuls and Patricians,
Together with the Seal o'ch' Senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, Noble Lords,
But tell the Traitor in the highest degree
He bath abus'd your Powers.
Cor. Traitor!

-How now!
Auf. Ay, Traitor, Martius.
Cor. Martius!
Auf. Ay, Martius, Caius Martius; dost chou think
I'll grace thee with that Robbery, thy stoln name
Coriolanus in Coriolus ?
You Lords and Head o'th' State, perfidiously


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