SCENE I.
A publick Place in Rome.
Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus, with others.
Menenius.
No, I'll not go. You hear, what he hath said,
Which was sometime his General, who lov'd him
In a most dear particular. He call'd me father;
But what o'that? Go you, that banish'd him,
A mile before his Tent fall down, and knee
The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coy'd
To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
-- 603 --
Com.
He would not seem to know me.
Men.
Do you hear?
Com.
Yet one time he did call me by my name.
I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to; forbad all names;
He was a kind of Nothing, titleless,
'Till he had forg'd himself a name i'th' fire
Of burning Rome.
Men.
Why, so. You've made good work:
A pair of Tribunes, 1 note
that have rack'd for Rome,
To make coals cheap. A noble memory!
Com.
I minded him, how royal 'twas to pardon
When it was least expected. He reply'd,
2 note
It was a bare petition of a State
To one whom they had punish'd.
Men.
Very well,
Could he say less?
Com.
I offer'd to awaken his regard
For's private friends. His answer to me was,
He could not stay to pick them in a pile
Of noisom musty chaff. He said, 'twas folly,
For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt
And still to nose, th' offence.
Men.
For one poor grain or two?
I'm one of those, his mother, wife, his child,
And this brave fellow too, we are the grains;
You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt
Above the Moon. We must be burnt for you.
-- 604 --
Sic.
Nay, pray, be patient; if you refuse your aid
In this so never-needed help, yet do not
Upbraid us with our distress. But, sure, if you
Would be your Country's pleader, your good tongue,
More than the instant army we can make,
Might stop our Country-man.
Men.
No: I'll not meddle.
Sic.
Pray you, go to him.
Men.
What should I do?
Bru.
Only make trial what your love can do
For Rome, tow'rds Marcius.
Men.
Well, and say, that Marcius
Return'd me, as Cominius is return'd,
Unheard; what then?
But as a discontented friend, grief shot
With his unkindness. Say't be so?
Sic.
Yet your good will
Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
As you intended well.
Men.
I'll undertake it:
I think, he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip,
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
3 noteHe was not taken well, he had not din'd.
The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We powt upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we've stuff'd
These pipes, and these conveyances of blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest like fasts. Therefore I'll watch him
'Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.
Bru.
You know the very road into his kindness,
And cannot lose your way.
Men.
Good faith, I'll prove him,
-- 605 --
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success.
[Exit.
Com.
He'll never hear him.
Sic.
Not?
Com.
4 note
I tell you, he does sit in gold; his eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his Injury
The Gaoler to his Pity. I kneel'd before him,
'Twas very faintly he said, rise; dismiss'd me
Thus, with his speechless hand. What he would do,
He sent in writing after; what he would not,
5 note
Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:
6 note
So that all hope is vain,
Unless his noble mother and his wife,
Who, as I hear, mean to sollicit him
For mercy to his Country. Therefore lets hence,
And with our fair intreaties haste them on.
[Exeunt.
-- 606 --
SCENE II.
Changes to the Volscian Camp.
Enter Menenius to the Watch or Guard.
1 Watch.
Stay. Whence are you?
2 Watch.
Stand, and go back.
Men.
You guard like men. 'Tis well. But, by your leave,
I am an officer of State, and come
To speak with Coriolanus.
1 Watch.
Whence?
Men.
From Rome.
1 Watch.
You may not pass, you must return; our General
Will no more hear from thence.
2 Watch.
You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire, before
You'll speak with Coriolanus.
Men.
Good my friends,
If you have heard your General talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is 7 noteLots to Blanks,
My name hath touch'd your ears; it is Menenius.
1 Watch.
Be it so, go back; the virtue of your Name
Is not here passable.
Men.
I tell thee, fellow,
Thy General is my lover; I have been
The book of his good acts, whence men have read
His fame unparallel'd, haply amplified;
8 note
For I have ever verified my friends,
-- 607 --
Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity
Would without lapsing suffer; nay, sometimes,
Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,
I've tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing. Therefore, fellow,
I must have leave to pass.
1 Watch.
Faith, Sir, if you had told as many lies
in his behalf, as you have utter'd words in your own,
you should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous
to lie, as to live chastly. Therefore, go back.
Men.
Pr'ythee, fellow, remember, my name is
Menenius; always factionary of the Party of your
General.
-- 608 --
2 Watch.
Howsoever you have been his liar, as
you say, you have; I am one that, telling true under
him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back.
Men.
Has he din'd, can'st thou tell? for I would
not speak with him till after dinner.
1 Watch.
You are a Roman, are you?
Men.
I am as thy General is.
1 Watch.
Then you should hate Rome, as he does.
Can you, when you have push'd out of your gates
the very Defender of them, and, in a violent popular
ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to
front his revenges with the easy groans of old women,
9 note
the virginal palms of your daughters, or with
-- 609 --
the palsied intercession of such a decay'd Dotard as
you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended
fire your city is ready to flame in, with such
weak breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd, therefore
back to Rome, and prepare for your execution. You
are condemn'd, our General has sworn you out of reprieve
and pardon.
Men.
Sirrah, if thy Captain knew I were here, he
would use me with estimation.
1 Watch.
Come. My Captain knows you not.
Men.
I mean, thy General.
1 Watch.
My General cares not for you. * note
Back,
I say, go; lest I let forth your half pint of Blood;—
back, that's the utmost of your having. Back.
Men.
Nay, but fellow, fellow,—
-- 610 --
Enter Coriolanus, with Aufidius.
Cor.
What's the matter?
Men.
Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for
you. You shall know now, that I am in estimation;
you shall perceive, that a Jack-gardant cannot office
me from my son Coriolanus; 1 noteguess but my entertainment
with him; if thou stand'st not i'th' state of
hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship,
and crueller in suffering. Behold now presently, and
swoon for what's to come upon thee.—The glorious
Gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity,
and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius
does! Oh my son, my son! thou art preparing
fire for us; look thee, here's water to quench it.
I was hardly mov'd to come to thee, but being assured,
none but myself could move thee, I have been
blown out of our gates with sighs; and conjure thee
to pardon Rome, and thy petitionary Countrymen.
The good Gods asswage thy wrath, and turn the dregs
of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a block,
hath denied my access to thee—
Cor.
Away!
Men.
How, away?
Cor.
Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs
Are servanted to others. 2 note
Though I owe
My revenge properly, remission lyes
In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate Forgetfulness shall poison, rather
Than Pity note how much.—Therefore, be gone.
Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee,
Take this along; I writ it for thy sake,
[Gives him a letter.
-- 611 --
And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius,
I will not hear thee speak.—This man, Aufidius,
Was my belov'd in Rome; yet thou behold'st—
Auf.
You keep a constant temper.
[Exeunt.
Manent the Guard, and Menenius.
1 Watch.
Now, Sir, is your name Menenius?
2 Watch.
'Tis a Spell, you see, of much power.
You know the way home again.
1 Watch.
Do you hear, how we are 3 noteshent for keeping
your Greatness back?
2 Watch.
What cause do you think, I have to swoon?
Men.
I neither care for the world, nor your General.
For such things as you, I can scarce think there's
any, y'are so slight. He, that hath a will to die by
himself, fears it not from another; let your General do
his worst. For you, be what you are, long; and your
misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was
said to, Away—
[Exit.
1 Watch.
A noble fellow, I warrant him.
2 Watch.
The worthy fellow is our General. He's
the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken.
[Exeunt Watch.
SCENE III.
Re-enter Coriolanus and Aufidius.
Cor.
We will before the Walls of Rome to-morrow
Set down our Host. My Partner in this action,
You must report to th' Volscian lords, 4 note
how plainly
I've born this business.
Auf.
Only their Ends you have respected; stopt
Your ears against the general suit of Rome;
Never admitted private whisper, no,
Not with such friends that thought them sure of you.
-- 612 --
Cor.
This last old man,
Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
Lov'd me above the measure of a father;
Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
Was to send him: for whose old love, I have,
Tho' I shew'd sow'rly to him, once more offer'd
The first conditions, which they did refuse,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more, a very little
I've yielded to. Fresh embassie, and suits,
Nor from the State, nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.—Ha! what shout is this?
[Shout within.
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow,
In the same time 'tis made? I will not—
Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, young Marcius, with Attendants all in Mourning.
My wife comes foremost, then the honour'd mould
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
The grand-child to her blood. But, out, affection!
All bond and privilege of Nature break!
Let it be virtuous, to be obstinate.
[Virgilia courtesies.
What is that curt'sie worth? or those dove's eyes,
Which can make Gods forsworn? I melt, and am not,
Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows,
[Volumnia bows.
As if Olympus to a mole-hill should
In supplication nod; and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great Nature cries,—Deny not. Let the Volscians
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand
As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin.
Virg.
My lord and husband!
Cor.
These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
-- 613 --
Virg.
5 note
The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd,
Makes you think so.
Cor.
Like a dull Actor now,
I have forgot my Part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For That, forgive our Romans.—O, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
6 noteNow by the jealous Queen of heav'n, that kiss
I carried from thee, Dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er since.—You Gods! I prate;
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted. Sink, my knee, i' th' earth;
[kneels.
Of thy deep duty more impression shew
Than that of common sons.
Vol.
O stand up blest!
Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint
I kneel before thee, and unproperly
Shew duty as mistaken all the while
[kneels.
Between the child and parent.
Cor.
What is this?
Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillop the stars; then, let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery Sun,
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.
Vol.
Thou art, my warrior,
I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
[Pointing to Valeria.
-- 614 --
Cor.
7 noteThe noble sister of Poplicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the isicle,
That's curdled by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple. Dear Valeria!—
Vol.
This is a poor 8 noteepitome of yours,
[Shewing young Marcius.
Which by th' interpretation of full time
May shew like all yourself.
Cor.
The God of soldiers,
9 noteWith the consent of supream Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with Nobleness, that thou may'st prove
To shame invulnerable, and stick i' th' wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing 1 noteevery flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!
Vol.
Your knee, sirrah.
Cor.
That's my brave boy.
Vol.
Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself
Are suitors to you.
Cor.
I beseech you, peace;
Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;
The thing, I have forsworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denial. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's Mechanicks. Tell me not,
Wherein I seem unnatural; desire not
T'allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.
Vol.
Oh, no more; no more.
You've said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but That
-- 615 --
Which you deny already. Yet we will ask,
That if we fail in our request, the Blame
May hang upon your hardness. Therefore hear us.
Cor.
Aufidius, and you Volscians, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.—Your request?
Vol.
Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We've led since thy Exile. Think with thy self,
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither; since thy sight, which should
Make our Eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
2 noteConstrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow;
Making the mother, wife, and child to see,
The son, the husband, and the father tearing
His Country's bowels out; and to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital; thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the Gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy. For how can we,
Alas! how can we, for our Country pray,
Whereto we're bound, together with thy victory,
Whereto we're bound? Alack! or we must lose
The Country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the Country. We must find
An eminent calamity, tho' we had
Our wish, which side should win. For either thou
Must, as a foreign Recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our street; or else
Triumphantly tread on thy Country's ruin,
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For my self, son,
I purpose not to wait on Fortune, 'till
These wars determine. If I can't persuade thee
Rather to shew a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one; thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy Country, than to tread
-- 616 --
(Trust to't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Vir.
Ay, and mine too,
That brought you forth this Boy, to keep your name
Living to time.
Boy.
He shall not tread on me:
I'll run away 'till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor.
Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires, nor child, nor woman's face, to see.
I've sat too long.—
Vol.
Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volscians whom you serve, you might condemn us,
As poisonous of your Honour. No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them; while the Volscians
May say, This mercy we have shew'd; the Romans,
This we receiv'd; and each in either side
Give the all hail to thee; and cry, Be blest
For making up this Peace! Thou know'st, great son,
The End of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit,
Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a Name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with Curses:
Whose Chronicle thus writ,—The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wip'd it out,
Destroy'd his Country, and his name remains
To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me, son,
Thou hast affected 3 notethe fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the Gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
4 noteAnd yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt,
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
-- 617 --
Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you;
He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, Boy;
Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
More bound to's mother, yet here he let's me prate
5 noteLike one i' th' Stocks. Thou'st never in thy life
Shew'd thy dear mother any courtesie;
When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my Request's unjust,
And spurn me back; but, if it be not so,
Thou art not honest, and the Gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.—He turns away.
Down, Ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To's sir-name Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; down; and end;
This is the last. So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold us.
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands for fellowship,
6 noteDoes reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't. Come, let us go.
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother:
His wife is in Corioli, and this child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch.
I'm husht, until our City be afire;
And then, I'll speak a little.
Cor.
O mother, mother!—
[Holds her by the hands, silent.
What have you done? behold the heav'ns do ope,
The Gods look down, and this unnatural scene,
They laugh at. Oh, my mother, mother! oh!
You've won a happy victory to Rome;
But for your son—believe it, oh, believe it—
-- 618 --
Most dang'rously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. Let it come.—
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf.
I too was mov'd.
Cor.
I dare be sworn, you were;
And, Sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat Compassion. But, good Sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me; for my part
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you, and pray you
Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife!—
Auf.
I'm glad, thou'st set thy mercy and thy honour
At difference in thee; out of That 7 note
I'll work
Myself a former fortune.
[Aside.
[The Ladies make signs to Coriolanus.
Cor.
Ay, by and by; but we will drink together;
And you shall bear
[To Vol. Virg. &c.
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions will have counter-seal'd.
8 note
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
-- 619 --
To have a Temple built you: all the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this Peace.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
The Forum, in Rome.
Enter Menenius and Sicinius.
Men.
See you yond coin o' th' Capitol, yond corner-stone?
Sic.
Why, what of that?
Men.
If it be possible for you to displace it with
your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of
Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him.
But, I say, there is no 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 Marcius
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 9 notean eight years old horse. The
tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks,
he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before
his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with
his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery.
1 noteHe sits in State as a thing made for Alexander.
What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding.
-- 620 --
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 respect
not us.
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Sir, if you'd save your life, fly 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 Marcius gone.
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not th' Expulsion of the Tarquins.
Sic.
Friend,
Art certain, this is true? Is it most certain?
Mes.
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 so hurried the blown tide,
As the recomforted through th' gates, Why, hark you;
[Trumpets, Hautboys, Drums beat, all together.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes,
-- 621 --
Tabors and cymbals, and the shouting Romans
Make the Sun dance. Hark you!
[A shout 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've 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're near the City?
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 our Tribes together, praise the Gods,
And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them;
Unshout the noise, that banish'd Marcius;
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother.
Cry,—welcome, Ladies, welcome!
[Exeunt.
All.
Welcome, Ladies, welcome!—
[A flourish with drums and trumpets.
-- 622 --
SCENE V.
Changes to a publick Place in 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. He, I accuse,
The city-ports by this hath enter'd; and
Intends t'appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words. Dispatch.—Most welcome!
Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius's faction.
1 Con.
How is it with our General?
Auf.
Even so,
As with a man by his own alms impoison'd,
And with his charity slain.
2 Con.
Most noble Sir,
If yet you 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 construction. I raised him, and pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth; who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and to this end,
-- 623 --
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, 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 banish'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 desires; nay, let him chuse
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In mine own person; holpe to reape the Fame,
Which he did make all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong; 'till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
2 noteHe wag'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.
1 Con.
So he did, my lord:
The army marvell'd at it, and, at last,
When he had carried Rome, and that we looked
For no less Spoil, than Glory—
Auf.
There was it,
3 noteFor which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him;
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the Blood and Labour
Of our great Action; therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his Fall. But, hark!
[Drums and Trumpets sound, with great shouts of the people.
1 Con.
Your native Town you enter'd like a Post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the Air with noise.
-- 624 --
2 Con.
And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear,
Giving him glory.
3 Con.
Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere 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're 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.
1 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, 4 note
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.
SCENE VI.
Enter Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours; the Commons being with him.
Cor.
Hail, lords. I am return'd, your soldier;
No more infected with my Country's love,
-- 625 --
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,
Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We've made peace
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to th' Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscribed by the Consuls and Patricians,
Together with the seal o' th' Senate, what
We have compounded on.
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, Marcius.
Cor.
Marcius!
Auf.
Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; dost thou think,
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?
You Lords and Heads o' th' State, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
I say, your city, to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o' th' war, but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory,
That Pages blush'd at him; and men of heart
Look'd wondring each at other.
Cor.
Hear'st thou, Mars!—
Auf.
Name not the God! thou boy of tears!—
Cor.
Ha!
Auf.
No more.
Cor.
Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy? O slave!—
-- 626 --
Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
I'm forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
Must give this Cur the Lie; and his own Notion,
Who wears my stripes imprest upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his Grave, shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.
1 Lord.
Peace both, and hear me speak.
Cor.
Cut me to pieces, Volscians, men and lads,
Stain all your edges in me. Boy! False hound!
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-coat, I
Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli.
Alone I did it. Boy!—
Auf.
Why, noble lords,
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart
'Fore your own eyes and ears?
All Con.
Let him die for't.
All People.
Tear him to pieces, do it presently.
[The Croud speak promiscuously.
He kill'd my son,—my daughter,—kill'd my cousin,—
He kill'd my father.—
2 Lord.
Peace,—no outrage—peace—
The man is noble, and 7 note
his Fame folds in
This Orb o' th' earth; his last offences to us
Shall have judicious Hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
Cor.
O that I had him,
With six Aufidius's, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword—
Auf.
Insolent villain!
All Con.
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
[The conspirators all draw, and kill Marcius, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him.
Lords.
Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf.
My noble Masters, hear me speak.
-- 627 --
1 Lord.
O Tullus—
2 Lord.
Thou hast done a deed, whereat
Valour will weep.
3 Lord.
Tread not upon him—masters all, be quiet;
Put up your swords.
Auf.
My lords, when you shall know, as in this rage
Provok'd by him you cannot, the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honours
To call me to your Senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
1 Lord.
Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most noble Coarse, that ever Herald
Did follow to his urn.
2 Lord.
His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.
Auf.
My Rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up:
Help three o' th' chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully.
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.
[Exeunt, bearing the body of Marcius. A dead March sounded.
