Men.
Here come the clusters.—
And is Aufidius with him?—You are they,
That made the air unwholsome, when you cast

Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at
Coriolanus' Exile. Now he's coming,
And not a hair upon a soldier's head,
Which will not prove a whip; as many coxcombs,
As you threw caps up, will he tumble down,
And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter,
If he should burn us all into one coal,
We have deserv'd it.

Omnes.
Faith, we hear fearful news.

1 Cit.
For mine own part,
When I said, banish him; I said, 'twas pity.

2 Cit.
And so did I.

3 Cit.

And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very many of us. That we did, we did for the best; and tho' we willingly consented to his Banishment, yet it was against our will.

Com.
Y'are goodly things. You, voices!—

Men.
You have made good work,
You and your cry. Shall's to the Capitol?

Com.
Oh, ay, what else? [Exeunt.

Sic.
Go, masters, get you home, be not dismay'd.
These are a Side, that would be glad to have
This true, which they so seem to fear. Go home,
And shew no sign of fear.

1 Cit.

The Gods be good to us. Come, masters, let's home. I ever said, we were i'th' wrong, when we banish'd him.

2 Cit.
So did we all; but come, let's home. [Exeunt Citizens.

Bru.
I do not like this news.

Sic.
Nor I.

Bru.
Let's to the Capitol. 'Would, half my wealth
Would buy this for a lie!

Sic.
Pray, let us go. [Exeunt Tribunes.

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