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 fuch a cafe the Gods will not be good unto us. When we banish'd him, we refpected not them: And he returning to break our Necks, they refpect not us. Enter a Messenger. Mef. Sir, if you'd fave your Life flye to your House, The Plebeians have got your Fellow-Tribune, And hale him up and down, all fwearing, if The Roman Ladies bring not Comfort home, They'll give him Death by Inches. Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the News? Mef. Good News, good News, the Ladies have prevail'd, The Volfcians are diflodg'd, and Martins gone: A merrier Day did never yet greet Rome, No, not th' Expulfion of the Tarquins. Sic. Friend, art thou certain this is true? Is't moft certain ? Mef. As certain as I know the Sun is Fire: Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? Tabors and Cymbals, and the fhouting Romans Men. This is good News: I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia [A fhout within... A Sea and Land full; you have pray'd well to Day: [Sound ftill with the Shouts. Sic. First, the Gods blefs you for your Tidings: Next, accept my Thankfulness. Mef. Sir, we have all great caufe to give great thanks. Mef. Mef. Almoft at point to enter. Sic. We'll meet them, and help the Joy. [Exeunt. Enter two Senators, with Ladies paffing over the Stage with other Lords. Sen. Behold our Patronefs, the life of Rome: Call all your Tribes together, praise the Gods, Repeal him with the welcome of his Mother: Cry, welcome, Ladies, welcome. All. Welcome Ladies, welcome. Exeunt. [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. SCENE IV. Antium. Enter three or four Confpirators of Aufidius's Faction. I Con. How is it with our General ? Auf. Even fo, as with a Man by his own Alms impoyfon'd, and with his Charity flain. 2 Con. Moft noble Sir, if you do hold the fame intent, Wherein you wifh'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, whilft 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the Survivor Heir of all. Auf. I know it; And my pretext to ftrike at him admits A good Conftruction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd He He bow'd his Nature, never known before, When he did stand for Conful, which he loft Auf. That I would have fpoke of: Being banish'd for't, he came unto my Hearth, I Con. So he did, my Lord: The Army marvell'd at it, and in the laft, Auf. There was it; For which my Sinews fhall be ftretcht upon him: [Drums and Trumpets found, with great fhouts of the People. Con. Your Native Town you enter'd like a Poft, And had no welcomes home, but he returns Splitting the Air with Noife. 2 Con. And patient Fools, Whofe Children he hath flain, their bafe Throats tear 3 Con. Therefore at your vantage, E'er he exprefs himself, or move the People After your way, his Tale pronounc'd, fhall bury Auf Auf. Say no more, here come the Lords. All Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deferv'd it. But, worthy Lords, have you with heed perus'd All. We have. 1 Lord. And grieve to hear it. What Faults he made before the laft, I think The benefit of our Lèvies, answering us Cor. Hail, Lords, I am return'd, your Soldier; Than Shame to th' Romans: And we here deliver, Auf. Read it not, Noble Lords, But tell the Traitor in the highest degree He hath abus'd your Powers. Cor. Traitor!How now! Auf. Ay, Traitor, Martius. Cor. Martius! Auf. Ay, Martius, Caius Martius; doft thou think I'll grace thee with that Robbery, thy ftoln name Coriolanus in Coriolus ? You Lords and Head o'th' State, perfidiously He He bow'd his Nature, never known before, When he did ftand for Conful, which he loft Auf. That I would have fpoke of: Being banish'd for't, he came unto my Hearth, I Con. So he did, my Lord: The Army marvell'd at it, and in the last, Auf. There was it; For which my Sinews fhall be ftretcht upon him: [Drums and Trumpets found, with great fbouts 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, Whofe Children he hath flain, their base Throats tear 3 Con. Therefore at your vantage, E'er he exprefs himself, or move the People After your way, his Tale pronounc'd, fhall bury Auf. |