Cor.
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 Volces stand but as at first;
Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road
Upon us again.

Com.
They are 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 Volces, 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'the common mouth. I do despise them;
For they do ^{6 note}prank them in authority,
Against all noble sufferance.

Sic.
Pass no further.

Cor.
Ha! 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 children's voices?

Sen.
Tribunes, give way; he shall to the 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, ^{7 note}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^{8 note}?

Bru.
How! I inform them!

Cor.
You are like to do such business.

Bru.
^{9 note}

Cor.
Why then should I be consul? By yon 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 are 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.—^{1 note}


This palt'ring
Becomes not Rome; nor has Coriolanus

Deserv'd this so dishonour'd rub, laid ^{3 note}falsly
I' the plain way of his merit.

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.—My nobler friends,
I crave their pardons:—
For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them^{4 note}


Regard me as I do not flatter, and
Therein behold themselves: I say again,
In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate
^{5 note}The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we ourselves have plough'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 they 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 meazels* ^note,

Which we disdain should tetter us, yet sought
The very way to catch them.

Bru.
You speak o' the people,
As if 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 ^{6 note}

Com.
^{7 note}'Twas from the canon.

Cor.
Shall!
O gods!—But most unwise patricians, why,
You grave^{8 note}

^{1 note}

To know, when two authorities are up,
Neither supreme, how soon confusion
May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take
The one by the other.

Com.
Well,—on to the market-place.

Cor.
Whoever gave that counsel^{4 note}, to give forth
The corn o'the store-house gratis, as 'twas us'd
Sometime in Græce,—

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 worthier than their voices. They know, the corn
Was not our recompence; resting well assur'd
They ne'er did service for't: Being press'd to the war,
Even when the navel of the state was touch'd,
^{5 note}They would not thread the gates: this kind of service
Did not deserve corn gratis: Being i' the war,
Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they shew'd
Most valour, spoke not for them: The accusation
Which they have often made against the senate,
All cause unborn, ^{6 note}

Men.
Come, enough.

Bru.
Enough, with over-measure.

Cor.
^{7 note}

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 general ignorance,—it must omit
Real necessities, and give way the while
To unstable slightness: ^{8 note}

That's sure of death without it,—at once pluck out
The multitudinous tongue, let them not lick
The sweet which is their poison: Your dishonour
^{2 note}

Bru.
He has said enough.

Sic.
He has 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 the 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, ^{4 note}

Bru.
Manifest treason.

Sic.
This a consul? no.

Bru.
The ædiles, ho!—Let him be apprehended.

Sic.
Go, call the people: [Exit Brutus.] in whose name, myself
Attach thee, as a traiterous innovator,
A foe to the publick weal: Obey, I charge thee,
And follow to thine answer.

Cor.
Hence, old goat!

All.
We'll surety him.

Com.
Aged sir, hands off.

Cor.
Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones
Out of thy garments^{5 note}



.

Sic.
Help me, citizens. Re-enter Brutus, with a rabble of Citizens, 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 ho!—
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
To the people^{6 note}

,—Coriolanus, patience:—
Speak, good 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.

1 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' the people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
Of present death.

Sic.
Therefore, lay hold of him;
Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.

Bru.
Ædiles, seize him.

All.
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 friend,
And temperately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.

Bru.
Sir, those cold ways,
That seem like prudent helps, are ^{7 note}
very poisonous
Where the disease is violent:—Lay hands upon him,
And bear him to the rock. [Coriolanus draws his sword.

Cor.
No; I'll die here.
There's some among you have beheld me fighting;
Come, try upon yourselves 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! [Exeunt. [In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ædiles, and the people are beat in.

Men.
Go, get you to your house; be gone, away,
All will be naught else.

2 Sen.
Get you gone.

^{8 note}
Cor.
Stand fast;
We have as many friends as enemies.

Men.
Shall it be put to that?

1 Sen.
The gods forbid!
I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house;
Leave us to cure this cause.

Men.
For 'tis a sore upon us,
You cannot tent yourself: Be gone, 'beseech you.

Com.
Come, sir, along with us.

Cor.
I would they were barbarians, (as they are
Though in Rome litter'd;) not Romans, (as they are not,

Though calv'd i' the porch o' the Capitol.)—Be gone^{9 note}

Men. ^note
Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
^{1 note}One time will owe another.

Cor.
On fair ground,
I could beat forty of them.

Men.
I could myself
Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two tribunes.

Com.
But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetick;
And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
Against a falling fabrick.—Will you hence,
Before the tag return^{2 note}? whose rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear
What they are us'd to bear.

Men.
Pray you, be gone:
I'll try whether my old wit be in request
With those that have but little; this must be patch'd
With cloth of any colour.

Com.
Nay, come away. [Exeunt Coriolanus, and Cominius.

1 Sen.
This man has marr'd his fortune.

Men.
His nature is too noble for the world:

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And, being angry, doth forget that ever
He heard the name of death. [A noise within.
Here's goodly work!

2 Sen.
I would they were a-bed!

Men.
I would they were in Tiber!—What, the vengeance,
Could he not speak 'em fair? Enter Brutus, and Sicinius, with the rabble again.

Sic.
Where is this viper,
That will depopulate the city, and
Be every man himself?

Men.
You worthy tribunes,—

Sic.
He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
Than the severity of publick power,
Which he so sets at nought.

1 Cit.
He shall well know,
The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
And we their hands.

All.
He shall sure out. 9Q0913

Men.
Sir, sir,—

Sic.
Peace.

Men.
^{1 note}

With modest warrant.

Sic.
Sir, how comes it, that you
Have holp to make this rescue?

Men.
Hear me speak:—
As I do know the consul's worthiness,
So can I name his faults:—

Sic.
Consul!—what consul?

Men.
The consul Coriolanus.

Bru.
He consul!

All.
No, no, no, no, no.

Men.
If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,
I may be heard, I'd crave a word or two;
The which shall turn you to no further harm,
Than so much loss of time.

Sic.
Speak briefly then;
For we are peremptory, to dispatch
This viperous traitor: to eject him hence,
Were but one danger; and, to keep him here,
Our certain death; therefore, it is decreed,
He dies to-night.

Men.
Now the good gods forbid,
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic.
He's a disease, that must be cut away.

Men.
O, he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies? The blood he hath lost,
(Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an ounce) he dropp'd it for his country:
And, what is left, to lose it by his country,
Were to us all, that do't, and suffer it,
A brand to the end o' the world.

Sic.
^{4 note}

Bru.
Meerly awry: When he did love his country,
It honour'd him.

^{5 note}

Bru.
We'll hear no more:—
Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.

Men.
One word more, one word.
This tyger-footed rage, when it shall find
The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will, too late,
Tie leaden pounds to his heels. Proceed by process;
Lest parties (as he is belov'd) break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru.
If it were so—

Sic.
What do ye talk?
Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our ædiles smote? ourselves resisted?—Come—

Men.
Consider this;—He hath been bred i' the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
(In peace) to his utmost peril.

1 Sen.
Noble tribunes,
It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody; and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning^{6 note}

.

Sic.
Noble Menenius,
Be you then as the people's officer:—
Masters, lay down your weapons.

Bru.
Go not home.

Sic.
Meet on the market-place:—We'll attend you there:
Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
In our first way.

Men.
I'll bring him to you:—
Let me desire your company. [To the Senators.] He must come,
Or what is worst will follow.

1 Sen.
Pray you, let's to him. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Coriolanus's House. Enter Coriolanus, with Patricians.

Cor.
Let them pull all about mine ears; present me
Death on the wheel, or at wild horses' heels;
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
That the precipitation might down stretch
Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
Be thus to them. Enter Volumnia.

Pat.
You do the nobler.

Cor.
^{7 note}I muse, my mother
Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy or sell with groats; to shew bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder,
When one but of ^{8 note}my ordinance stood up
To speak of peace, or war. [To Vol.] I talk of you;
Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say, I play
The man I am.

Vol.
O, sir, sir, sir,
I would have had you put your power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor.
Let go.

Vol.
You might have been enough the man you are,
With striving less to be so: Lesser had been

The thwartings of your dispositions^{9 note}

Cor.
Let them hang.

Vol.
Ay, and burn too. Enter Menenius, with the Senators.

Men.
Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough;
You must return, and mend it.

Sen.
There's no remedy;
Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Cleave in the midst, and perish.

Vol.
Pray, be counsel'd:
I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain, that leads my use of anger,
To better vantage.

Men.
Well said, noble woman:
^{1 note}