1 Lord.
Be not so hasty, Tullus; stay to Night.

Auf.
After your Lordships leave me, not an Hour;
The Troops are, by my Orders, march'd already,
And our Success depends on our Dispatch.
For we may likely take in several Towns
Before that Rome's provided to resist us:
Whose wisest Senators have been deceiv'd,
By trusting to our late dissembled yielding;
And so disbanding hastily their Troops,
While we maintain'd, and even augmented ours,
Have naked and defenceless left their Frontiers.

2 Lord.
My Lords, if my Intelligence proves true,
There is a further and a stronger Reason
Why Tullus should set forth without delay:
For now the Senate and the Roman People
Highly against each other are incens'd:
The Tribunes have Impeach'd, and mean to Try,
For Capital Offences, Caius Marcius,
Rome's brave Defender, and our mortal Foe.

Auf.
Then, if we march while this Dissention's warm,
We bear down all before us like a Deluge;
For Caius Marcius was the only Roman,
Who, when his Country had no Army ready,
Could raise one by his Breath alone, as Jove
First made the World, by saying Let it be.
You may remember when in the late Dearth,
The People, mutinying, refus'd the Service,
He, in a Morning, muster'd up his Friends,

And made a terrible Incursion on us,
Which ruin'd half our Territory.

3 Lord.
Aufidius, thou commend'st him like a Friend.

Auf.
Life hates not Death so much as I do Marcius,
Yet I'll do Justice to the Worth I hate.
Even when his Country had an Army rais'd,
What was that Army when-e'er he was absent?
He was the Soul of all their warlike Enterprises.
Was it their Army that reduc'd Corioli?
No; 'twas the conqu'ring Arm of Marcius only;
Who, by that wondrous Action, lost his Name,
And found a nobler, with Immortal Glory.
Who beat the Troops which I in Person led?
Was it Cominius, Rome's Commander? No.
I drove Cominius and his Troops before me,
As Whirlwinds drive the Dust;
In Skill, in Stratagem, in Feats of Arms,
Their bravest Romans I surpass'd and foil'd,
Till Marcius came against me, like a God,
By Force divine o'er-pow'ring human Nature.
Conquest attended him where-e'er he came,
And Fortune follow'd him as Fate does Jove.
Where-e'er he came, Skill, Valour, Stratagem,
All in a Moment were constrain'd to yield,
Or by their Perseverance shew'd their Impotence,
And grew ridiculous.

1 Lord.
Perhaps the Tribunes may to Death pursue him.

Auf.
No, that, my Lords, they neither can nor dare,
For the Patricians are too fast his Friends:
But they eternally may disoblige him;
Which if they do, O then that we could gain him.

2 Lord.
I'd give, methinks, a third of my whole Fortune,
To see him here in Antium as a Friend.

3 Lord.
That sight would be most welcome to us all.

1 Lord.
To all most welcome, but most wonderful.

Auf.
Twelve times in single Combat I have try'd him,
And twelve times shamefully have from him fled.

For which tho' to the Death I ought to hate him,
Yet always shall my private Passions yield
To what's my Country's universal Good. Enter 1 Servant and Coriolanus at a Distance; the other two Servants appear at the Door.

1 Serv.

Sir, Sir, Sir.

Auf.

What would the Fool have?

1 Serv.

The Fool has earnest Business, Sir, as Fools now-a-Days generally have; here's an odd sort of a Fellow that is resolv'd to speak with you, whether you will or no.

Auf.

What's his Business?

1 Serv.

I know not; I believe a Wager.

Auf.

Sirrah, what Wager?

1 Serv.

I believe he has laid that he will kick your Family round. All but your Honour have had it already.

Auf.
Sirrah, because as you're a Fool I sometimes
Have given you privilege to prate, you think
Your beastly Tongue has a perpetual Licence.
Where is this Fellow?
My Lords, I beg your Pardon for a Moment. [Comes to the front of the Stage.
Whence com'st thou, and what would'st thou? What's thy Name?

Cor.
Dost thou not know me, Tullus?

Auf.
No: thy Name.

Cor.
A Name unmusical to Volscian Ears,
And harsh in sound to thine.

Auf.
Can'st thou not speak it?

Cor.
Methinks thy Guardian Genius should inform thee;
Nature her self should, rouzing, take th' alarm,
And thy pure Blood, which I've so often shed,
Should swiftly to thy panting Heart retire,
And whisper there what mortal Foe is here.

Auf.
Now by the God of War there breaths but one Man

Who dares to talk, or dares to look like thee.
How hast thou dar'd to appear thus here alone?
Think'st thou to carry Antium like Corioli,
That thou art here unseconded, unguarded?

Cor.
'Tis Rome, not Antium, that I come to carry.

Auf.
What say'st thou?

Cor.
Would'st thou revenge thy Country, or thy self?
If 'tis thy self thou would'st revenge, here strike,
Ungrateful Rome will thank thee for the Blow.

Auf.
Ye Gods, what's this I hear!

Cor.
But if thou would'st revenge thy Country's Wrongs,
Behold me here, no common Friend to Antium,
No vulgar Foe to Rome; for I will fight
Against my canker'd Country, with the Spleen
Of the Infernal Furies.

Auf.
What has it done? what caus'd this wondrous Change?

Cor.
Tullus, thou see'st me here a banish'd Man.

Auf.
Banish'd! Is't possible!

Cor.
Hoop'd out of Rome by vile accursed Slaves,
Permitted by our dastard Nobles, who
Have all forsaken me: For which may Fortune,
And every Guardian God of Rome forsake them.
Tullus, I come to make a noble Barter with thee;
Give me Revenge, I'll give thee Victory.

Auf.
O Marcius, Marcius,
Each word thou hast spoke has weeded from my Heart
A Root of ancient Envy. If that Jupiter
Should from yon glittering Firmament, in Thunder
Speak things Divine, I'd not believe 'em more
Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
My Arms about that Body, against which
My shiver'd Spear a hundred times has broke,
And scarr'd the Moon with Splinters. Here I embrace
The Anvil of my Sword, and here contest
As hotly and as nobly with thy Love,
As ever in ambitious Strength I did

Contend against thy Valour. Know, thou Hero,
I lov'd the Maid I married, never Man
Sigh'd truer Breath; but, that I see thee here,
Thou noble Soul, more ravishes my Heart,
Than when I first my wedded Mistress saw
Pass blushing o'er my Threshold to my Bed.
Thou art arriv'd, thou Thunderbolt of War,
Even in the dreadful Crisis of Rome's Fate.
Even now our Troops are marching, and I purpos'd
Once more to hew thy Target from thy Brawn,
Or lose my Arm for't. Thou hast worsted me
Twelve several Times, and I have nightly since
Dream'd of Encounters 'twixt thy self and me:
We have been down together, in my Sleep,
Unbuckling Helms, fisting each other's Throats,
And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
Had we no Quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou thence art banish'd, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy; and pouring War
Into the Bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold Deluge mark our Way with Ruin.
Let me present you to our Friendly Senators,
Who now to take their leaves of me are here.

Cor.
You bless me, Gods! [They go to the Table.

Auf.
My Lords, what you have wish'd so oft in vain,
But what we thought no God would dare to promise,
Fortune and Time have of themselves effected.
Behold the noble Caius Marcius here,
The Friend of Antium, and the Foe of Rome.

All Sen.
Ha, Caius Marcius here! [All rise.

Auf.
Banish'd from Rome by his ungrateful Country.

1 Sen.
Ha, banish'd!

2 Sen.
Immortal Jupiter!

3 Sen.
What Miracle is this!

4 Sen.
Let us bow down before the Godlike Man.

1 Sen.
Welcome to Antium; yes, a thousand Welcomes.

4 Sen.
With you, the Tutelary Gods of Rome,
Are come to dwell among us.

3 Sen.
When your ungrateful Country banish'd you
It pass'd a fatal Sentence on it self.

1 Sen.
Rome in that Moment fell from all its Glory.

2 Sen.
Now, in its turn, our Volscian State will rise.

4 Sen.
You come to Reign, and to Command among us.
And, if you would revenge your barbarous Wrongs
On your ungrateful Country, we have Troops
That march against it now, and good Aufidius
Is proud to share with you his high Commission.

Auf.
Most proud of such a Partner.

Cor.
My Lords, you overwhelm me with your Kindness:
But my bold Hand, not Tongue, shall shew my Gratitude.

Auf.
For me, I must away within an Hour,
Marcius may take a Night's Repose, and follow.

Cor.
Behind you Marcius will not stay a moment.
Repose but feeds my inward Agitation,
While Vengeance preys upon my burning Entrails,
But Motion that will hasten dire Revenge
Will give me Ease of Mind.
By the Reception which I meet with here,
And by the Usage which I found at Rome,
Who would not take this Antium for the City
For which I all my Life had fought and conquer'd,
And Rome the hostile Country, of whose Natives
I, from a Boy, had made perpetual Slaughter. Enter a Centurion.

Cent.
Where is the General?

Auf.
What are thy Tydings? Say.

Cent.
The Troops that march'd this Evening, have already,
Without Resistance, pass'd the Roman Frontiers,
And mark'd their way with Blood and Devastation.

The Roman Territory's in a Flame,
With which the Welkin glows; th' impartial Sword
Spares neither Age nor Sex, Degree nor Order,
But makes promiscuous Slaughter of our Foes.
Confusion and Dismay seize all who escape,
And all to their wall'd Towns for Refuge fly,
And all those Towns send Post to Rome for Succour.
Suffetius, your Lieutenant, begs, by me,
That you would haste to joyn th' impatient Troops,
And take th' Advantage of their eager Fire,
And of the Foe's surprize.

Auf.
To Horse without delay. Now, noble Marcius,
E'er thrice the Sun his flaming Course renews,
Capricious Rome shall curse the fatal Hour
That e'er she dar'd to banish her Defender.

Cor.
I wait on you.

Auf.
My Lords, we take our leaves.
May Fortune be propitious to your Lordships.

All Sen.
Glory and Victory attend Aufidius,
And thee, most noble Marcius.

Auf
Sirrah, do you attend me to the Gate,
That you may take my Orders as I go. [Exeunt.

1 Serv.

Here's an Alteration!

2 Serv.

By Jove, I thought to have cudgell'd him; and yet my Mind gave me his Cloaths made a false Report of him.

1 Serv.

What an Arm he has! He turn'd me about with a Finger and a Thumb, as one would set up a Top.

2 Serv.

And what a Foot he has! Well, I have had five hundred Kicks, but never had such a Kick before! He mounted me like a Foot-Ball.

1 Serv.

Well, this Frolick began with my Master. This Caius Marcius has been us'd to Cudgel him. So that we Servants have had an Honourable Beating.

2 Serv.

What do you say! Us'd to Cudgel the General!

1 Serv.

Well Saucebox! What if I did say Cudgel the General? Did not the General say so himself? Pray what did he do before Corioli? Did not he Scotch him and Notch him like a Certonedo? Gad, if our General had not shewn the wrong side of himself, he might have broil'd and eaten him too.

3 Serv.

Oh Slaves! I can tell you News, News you Rascals.

1 and 2 Serv.

What, what, what? Let us partake.

3 Serv.

Well! I would not be a Roman of all Nations under the Sun, I had as lief be a condemn'd Person.

1 and 2 Serv.

Ay! Why so?

3 Serv.

Why this Offspring of Hector will carry my Master directly to Rome, and lug the Porter of Rome Gates by the Ears. He will mow down all before him. Rome will soon come into my Master's Hands. The Romans will be all turn'd out of their Places, and we who are Scoundrels now shall immediately become great Men.

1 Serv.

What, we Footmen become great Men?

3 Serv.

Why, what if we are Footmen, Puppy? How many Footmen, since I can remember, have I known preferr'd? Or Fellows worse than Footmen? Do not we see every Day a proud Splenetick Puppy lolling backwards in a Gilt Chariot; when all the Town remembers, that twenty Years ago they saw him ride behind it? I tell you, we shall be all great Men.

1 and 2 Serv.

Ay, ay, we shall be all three very great Men.

3 Serv.

But now do you know how to behave your selves, you Rascals, when you come to be great!

1 Serv.

Not I, by Jupiter.

2 Serv.

Nor I, by Hercules.

3 Serv.

Then observe, and take Example by me. When I come to be a great Man, I will have but half my Memory, and no Ears at all in my Head.

1 Serv.

And why but half your Memory?

3 Serv.

I will remember to mawl my Enemies, and forget to do good to my Friends.

2 Serv.

But why no Ears in your Head?

3 Serv.

I will have them remov'd a little nearer to my Pockets.

1 Serv.

Whither must that be?

3 Serv.

Why, to the Palms of my Hands, you Scoundrel! He who speaks to me, speaks to me here. [Pointing to his Hand.] He who speaks to any other part of me, is an impertinent Fellow, and talks to the Deaf.

1 Serv.

But how will you pass your Time, when you come to be great?

3 Serv.

Why, as that sort of great Men does who with great Fortunes have little Understandings, and low Thoughts in high Stations. All the Morning I will be doing nothing, in secret and in State. And while I am doing nothing gravely and mysteriously, I will be as inaccessible, and as uncomatable, as if I were Wisdom or Honesty.

2 Serv.

But how will you pass your Afternoons?

3 Serv.

Why, just as I pass my Mornings; in doing nothing; only I will see a Friend or two.

1 Serv.

What, Wits, Virtuosi, Politicians I warrant you.

3 Serv.

No: Fools, you Puppy. Folly in Brocade shall be my Companion, and Merit in Rags shall be my Door-keeper. But, to pin the Basket, as soon as I come to be great, I will use the State as a Sharper does his Bubble, I will flatter it and cajole it egregiously, express flaming Zeal for its Service, talk of nothing but Public Spirit, and the Love of my Country; but at the same time I will cheat my dear Country most damnably, yet rail most vehemently at any one who has it in his Power to cheat it more than myself. If I can but fill my own Coffers, I care not one Farthing if my

dear Country is five hundred Millions in Debt, and Bankrupt past recovery.

1 Serv.

Oh rare Mark, he has not liv'd twenty Years in the Service of great Men for nothing.

2 Serv.

Mark has had his Eyes and his Ears open.

1 Serv.

He will certainly be a very great Man.

3 Serv.

Why Sirrah! I am a greater Man than you may imagine already. I am Factotum and Major-Domo, and Viceroy in my Master's Absence. Look here is the Key of the Wine Cellar, Sirrah! Come, I'll begin my Reign with an Act of Grace, carry you two down into my Kingdom of Darkness, pierce a fresh Hogshead, and thereby depriving you of your little Understandings, absolutely gain your Affections.