Coriolanus.
Tullus Aufidius then had made new head?

Lart.
He had, my Lord; and that it was, which caus'd
Our swifter composition.

Cor.
So then the Volscians stand but as at first,
Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road
Upon's again.

Com.
They're worn, Lord Consul, so,
That we shall hardly in our ages see
Their Banners wave again.

Cor.
Saw you Aufidius?

Lart.
On safe-guard he came to me, and did curse
Against the Volscians, for they had so vilely
Yielded the Town; he is retir'd to Antium.

Cor.
Spoke he of me?

Lart.
He did, my Lord.

Cor.
How?—what?—

Lart.
How often he had met you, sword to sword:
That of all things upon the earth he hated
Your person most: that he would pawn his fortunes

To hopeless restitution, so he might
Be call'd your vanquisher.

Cor.
At Antium lives he?

Lart.
At Antium.

Cor.
I wish, I had a cause to seek him there;
To oppose his hatred fully.—Welcome home. [To Lartius. Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Behold! these are the Tribunes of the people,
The tongues o'th' common mouth: I do despise them;
For they do prank them in authority
Against all noble sufferance.

Sic.
Pass no further.

Cor.
Hah!—what is that!—

Bru.
It will be dangerous to go on—no further.

Cor.
What makes this change?

Men.
The matter?

Com.
Hath he not pass'd the Nobles and the Commons?

Bru.
Cominius, no.

Cor.
Have I had childrens voices?

Sen.
Tribunes, give way; he shall to th' market place,

Bru.
The people are incens'd against him.

Sic.
Stop,
Or all will fall in broil.

Cor
Are these your herd?
Must these have voices, that can yield them now,
And straight disclaim their tongues? what are your offices?
You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
Have you not set them on?

Men.
Be calm, be calm.

Cor.
It is a purpos'd thing, and grows by plot,
To curb the will of the Nobility:
Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule,
Nor ever will be rul'd.

Bru.
Call't not a plot;
The people cry, you mock'd them; and, of late,
When corn was given them gratis, you repin'd;

Scandal'd the suppliants for the people; call'd them
Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to Nobleness.

Cor.
Why, this was known before.

Bru.
Not to them all.

Cor.
Have you inform'd them since?

Bru.
How! I inform them!

Cor.
You are like to do such business.

Bru.
Not unlike, each way, to better yours.

Cor.
Why then should I be Consul? by yond clouds,
Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
Your Fellow-Tribune.

Sic.
You shew too much of That,
For which the people stir; if you will pass
To where you're bound, you must enquire your way
Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
Or never be so noble as a Consul,
Nor yoke with him for Tribune.

Men.
Let's be calm.

Com.
The people are abus'd.—Set on;—this paltring(23) ^note

Cor.
Tell me of corn!
This was my speech, and I will speak't again—

Men.
Not now, not now.

Sen.
Not in this heat, Sir, now.

Cor.
Now as I live, I will—
As for my nobler friends, I crave their pardons:
But for the mutable rank-scented Many,
Let them regard me, as I do not flatter,
And there behold themselves: I say again,
In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our Senate

The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we our selves have plow'd for, sow'd and scatter'd,
By mingling them with us, the honour'd number:
Who lack not Virtue, no, nor Power, but that
Which we have given to beggars.

Men.
Well, no more—

Sen.
No more words, we beseech you—

Cor.
How!—no more!
As for my Country I have shed my blood,
Not fearing outward force; so shall my lungs
Coin words 'till their decay, against those measles,
Which we disdain should tetter us, yet seek
The very way to catch them.

Bru.
You speak o'th' people, as you were a God
To punish, not a man of their infirmity.

Sic.
'Twere well, we let the people know't.

Men.
What, what! his choler?

Cor.
Choler! were I as patient as the midnight sleep,
By Jove, 'twould be my mind.

Sic.
It is a mind
That shall remain a poison where it is,
Not poison any further.

Cor.
Shall remain?
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you
His absolute shall?

Com.
'Twas from the canon.

Cor.
Shall!—
O good, but most unwise Patricians, why,
You grave, but wreakless Senators, have you thus
Given Hydra here to chuse an officer,
That with his peremptory shall, being but
The horn and noise o'th' monsters, wants not spirit
To say, he'll turn your current in a ditch,
And make your channel his? If he have power,
Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake
Your dangerous lenity: if you are learned,
Be not as common fools; if you are not,
Let them have cushions by you. You're Plebeians,
If they be Senators; and they are no less,

When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste
Most palates theirs. They chuse their magistrate!
And such a one as he, who puts his shall,
His popular shall, against a graver Bench
Than ever frown'd in Greece! By Jove himself,
It makes the Consuls base; and my soul akes
To know, when two authorities are up,
Neither supream, how soon Confusion
May enter 'twixt the gap of Both, and take
The one by th' other.

Com.
Well—On to th' market-place.

Cor.
Who ever gave that counsel, to give forth
The corn o'th' storehouse, gratis, as 'twas us'd
Sometime in Greece—

Men.
Well, well, no more of that.

Cor.
Though there the people had more absolute Power:
I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed
The ruin of the State.

Bru.
Why shall the people give
One, that speaks thus, their voice?

Cor.
I'll give my reasons,
More worthy than their voice. They know, the corn
Was not our recompence; resting assur'd,
They ne'er did service for't; being prest to th' war,
Even when the navel of the State was touch'd,
They would not thread the gates: this kind of service
Did not deserve corn gratis: Being i'th' war,
Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they shew'd
Most valour, spoke not for them. Th' accusation,
Which they have often made against the Senate,
All cause unborn, could never be the native
Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
How shall this Bosom-multiplied digest
The Senate's courtesie? let deeds express,
What's like to be their words—we did request it—
We are the greater poll, and in true fear
They gave us our demands.—Thus we debase
The nature of our Seats, and make the rabble
Call our cares, fears; which will in time break ope

The locks o'th' Senate, and bring in the crows
To peck the eagles—

Men.
Come, enough.

Bru.
Enough, with over measure.

Cor.
No, take more.
What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
Seal what I end withal!—This double worship,
Where one part does disdain with cause, the other
Insult without all reason; where gentry, title, wisdom,
Cannot conclude but by the yea and no
Of gen'ral ignorance, it must omit
Real necessities, and give way the while
T' unstable slightness; purpose so barr'd, it follows,
Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,
(You that will be less fearful than discreet,
That love the fundamental part of State
More than you doubt the change of't; that prefer
A noble life before a long, and wish
To vamp a body with a dangerous physick,
That's sure of death without;) at once pluck out
The multitudinous tongue, let them not lick
The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonour
Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the State
Of that integrity which should become it:
Not having power to do the good it would,
For th' ill which doth controul it.

Bru.
H'as said enough.

Sic.
H'as spoken like a traitor, and shall answer
As traitors do.

Cor.
Thou wretch! Despight o'erwhelm thee!—
What should the people do with these bald Tribunes?
On whom depending, their obedience fails
To th' greater bench. In a Rebellion,
When what's not meet, but what must be, was law,
Then were they chosen; in a better hour,
Let what is meet, be said, it must be meet,
And throw their Power i'th' dust.

Bru.
Manifest treason—

Sic.
This a Consul? no.

Bru.
The Ædiles, ho! let him be apprehended. [Ædiles enter.

Sic.
Go call the people, in whose name my self
Attach thee as a traiterous innovator:
A foe to th' publick weal. Obey, I charge thee,
And follow to thine answer. [Laying hold on Coriolanus.

Cor.
Hence, old goat!

All.
We'll surety him.

Com.
Ag'd Sir, hands off.

Cor.
Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones
Out of thy garments.

Sic.
Help me, citizens. Enter a Rabble of Plebeians, with the Ædiles.

Men.
On both sides, more respect.

Sic.
Here's he, that would take from you all your power.

Bru.
Seize him, Ædiles.

All.
Down with him, down with him!

2 Sen.
Weapons, weapons, weapons! [They all bustle about Coriolanus.
Tribunes, Patricians, Citizens—what hoe—
Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, citizens!

All.
Peace, peace, peace, stay, hold, peace!

Men.
What is about to be?—I am out of breath;
Confusion's near, I cannot speak.—You Tribunes,
Coriolanus, patience; speak, Sicinius.

Sic.
Hear me, people—peace.

All.
Let's hear our Tribune; peace; speak, speak, speak.

Sic.
You are at point to lose your liberties:
Marcius would have all from you: Marcius,
Whom late you nam'd for Consul.

Men.
Fie, fie, fie.
This is the way to kindle, not to quench.

Sen.
To unbuild the city, and to lay all flat.

Sic.
What is the city, but the people?

All.
True, the people are the city.

Bru.
By the consent of all, we were establish'd

The people's magistrates.

All.
You so remain.

Men.
And so are like to do.

Cor.
That is the way to lay the city flat;
To bring the roof to the foundation,
And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of ruin.

Sic.
This deserves death.

Bru.
Or let us stand to our Authority,
Or let us lose it; we do here pronounce,
Upon the part o'th' people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
Of present death.

Sic.
Therefore lay hold on him;
Bear him to th' rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.

Bru.
Ædiles, seize him.

All Ple.
Yield, Marcius, yield.

Men.

Hear me one word; 'beseech you, Tribunes, hear me but a word—

Ædiles.
Peace, peace.

Men.
Be that you seem, truly your Country's friends,
And temp'rately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.

Bru.
Sir, those cold ways,
That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous,
Where the disease is violent. Lay hands on him,
And bear him to the Rock. [Cor. draws his Sword.

Cor.
No; I'll dye here.
There's some among you have beheld me fighting,
Come try upon your selves, what you have seen me.

Men.
Down with that sword; Tribunes, withdraw a while.

Bru.

Lay hands upon him.

Men.

Help Marcius, help—you that be noble, help him young and old.

All.

Down with him, down with him.