1 Off.

Come come, they are almost here: How many stand for consulships?

2 Off.

Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one, Coriolanus will carry it.

1 Off.

That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and loves not the common people.

2 Off.

'Faith, there have been many great men that have flatter'd the people, who ne'er lov'd them; and there be many that they have lov'd, they know not wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground: Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love, or hate him, manifests the true knowledge he has in their disposition; and, out of his noble carelessness, lets them plainly see't.

1 Off.

If he did not care whether he had their love, or no, ^{2 note}he wav'd indifferently 'twixt doing them neither good, nor harm; but he seeks their hate with

greater devotion than they can render it him; and leaves nothing undone, that may fully discover him their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people, is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.

2 Off.

He hath deserved worthily of his country: And his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those, who have been ^{3 note}

1 Offi.

No more of him; he is a worthy man: Make way, they are coming.

Men.
Having determin'd of the Volces, and
To send for Titus Lartius, it remains,
As the main point of this our after-meeting,
To gratify his noble service, that
Hath thus stood for his country: Therefore, please you,
Most reverend and grave elders, to desire

The present consul, and last general
In our well-found successes, to report
A little of that worthy work perform'd
By Caius Marcius Coriolanus; whom
We meet here, both to thank, and to remember
With honours like himself.

1 Sen.
Speak, good Cominius:
Leave nothing out for length; and make us think,
Rather our state's defective for requital,
Than we to stretch it out.—Masters o' the people,
We do request your kindest ear; and, after,
^{4 note}Your loving motion toward the common body,
To yield what passes here.

Sic.
We are convented
Upon a pleasing treaty; and have hearts
Inclinable to honour and advance
^{5 note}

Bru.
Which the rather
We shall be blest to do, if he remember
A kinder value of the people, than
He hath hereto priz'd them at.

Men.
^{6 note}That's off, that's off;

I would you rather had been silent: Please you
To hear Cominius speak?

Bru.
Most willingly:
But yet my caution was more pertinent,
Than the rebuke you give it.

Men.
He loves your people;
But tye him not to be their bed-fellow.—
Worthy Cominius, speak.—Nay, keep your place. [Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away.

1 Sen.
Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear
What you have nobly done.

Cor.
Your honours' pardon;
I had rather have my wounds to heal again,
Than hear say how I got them.

Bru.
Sir, I hope,
My words dis-bench'd you not?

Cor.
No, sir: yet oft,
When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.
You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not^{7 note}

Men.
Pray now, sit down.

Cor.
I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun,
When the alarum were struck, than idly sit
To hear my nothings monster'd. [Exit Coriolanus.

Men.
Masters o' the people,
Your multiplying spawn ^{8 note}how can he flatter,
(That's thousand to one good one) when you now see,

He had rather venture all his limbs for honour,
Than one of his ears to hear it?—Proceed, Cominius.

Com.
I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
Should not be utter'd feebly.—It is held,
That valour is the chiefest virtue, and
Most dignifies the haver: if it be,
The man I speak of cannot in the world
Be singly counterpois'd. At sixteen years,
^{9 note}When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought
Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator,
Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight,
When with his Amazonian chin^{1 note} he drove
The bristled lips before him: he bestrid
An o'er-prest Roman, and i' the consul's view
Slew three opposers; Tarquin's self he met,
And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats,
When he might act the woman in the scene^{2 note},
He prov'd best man i' the field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age
Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea;
And, in the brunt of seventeen battles since,
He lurch'd all swords o'the garland^{3 note}. For this last,
Before and in Corioli, let me say,
I cannot speak him home: He stopt the fliers;
And, by his rare example, made the coward
Turn terror into sport: as waves before

A vessel under sail, so men obey'd,
And fell below his stem^{4 note}

'Twere a perpetual spoil: and, 'till we call'd
Both field and city ours, he never stood
To ease his breast with panting.

Men.
Worthy man!

1 Sen.
^{9 note}He cannot but with measure fit the honours
Which we devise him.

Com.
Our spoils he kick'd at;
And look'd upon things precious, as they were
The common muck o'the world: he covets less
^{1 note}Than misery itself would give; rewards
His deeds with doing them; ^{2 note}