Coriolanus.
No more—I merit not this lavish praise.
True, we have driven the Roman legions back,
Defeated and disgrac'd—but what is this?
Nothing, ye Volsci, nothing yet is done.
Come on, my brave companions of the war!
Come, let us finish, at one mighty stroke,
The toil of labouring fate—We will, or perish!
While, noble Tullus, you protect the camp,
I, with my troops, all men of chosen valour,
And well approv'd to-day, will storm the city.

Titus.
Beneath thy animating conduct, Marcius,
What can the Volscian valour not perform?
Thy very fight and voice subdues the Romans.
When, lifting up your helm, you shew'd your face,
That like a comet glar'd destruction on 'em,
I saw their bravest veterans fly before thee.
Their ancient spirit has with thee forsook them,
And ruin hangs o'er yon devoted walls. Enter an Officer, who addresses Coriolanus.

Officer.
My lord, a herald is arriv'd from Rome,
To say a deputation from the senate,
Attended by the ministers of heaven,
A venerable train of priests and flamens
Is on the way, address'd to you.

Coriolannus.
To me!
What can this message mean?
What! do they think me such a milky boy,

To pay my vengeance with a few soft words?
Come, fellow soldiers, Tullus, come, and see,
If I betray the honours you have done me. [Exeunt all but Tullus and Volusius.

Volusius.
Are we not, Tullus, failing in our duty
Not to attend our general?

Tullus.
How! what say'st thou?

Volusius.
Methought my lord his parting orders were,
We should attend the triumph now preparing
O'er all his foes at once—Romans and Volsci!
Come, we shall give offence.

Tullus.
Of this no more.
I pray thee spare thy bitter irony.

Volusius.
Shall I then speak without disguise?

Tullus.
Speak out:
With all the honest bluntness of a friend.
Think'st thou I fear the truth?

Volusius.
Then, Tullus, know,
Thou art no more the general of the Volsci.
Thou hast, by this thy generous weakness, sunk
Thyself into a private man of Antium.
Yes, thou hast taken from thy laurel'd brow
The well-earn'd trophies of thy toils and perils,
Thy springing hopes, the fairest ever budded,
And heap'd them on a man too proud before.

Tullus.
He bears it high.

Volusius.
Death, and perdition! High!
With uncontroul'd command!—You see already,
He will not be encumber'd with the fetters

Of our advice. He speaks his sovereign will;
On every hand he issues out his orders,
As to his natural slaves.—For you, my lord,
He has, I think, confin'd you to your camp,
There in inglorious indolence to languish;
While he, beneath your blasted eye, shall reap
The harvest of your honour.

Tullus.
No, Volusius,
Whatever honour shall by him be gain'd
Reverts to me, from whose superior bounty
He drew the means of all his glorious deeds.
This mighty chief, this conqueror of Rome
Is but my creature—

Volusius.
Wretched, self-delusion;
Confusion! there it is! there lurks the sting
Of our dishonour! while this Marcius leads
The Roman armies, ours are driven before him.
Behold he changes sides; when with him changes
The fortune of the war. Strait they grow Volsci,
And we victorious Romans—such, no doubt,
Such is his secret boast.—Ay, this vile brand,
Success itself will fix for ever on us;
And, Tullus, thou, 'tis thou must answer for it.

Tullus. [Aside]
His words are daggers to my Heart; I feel
Their truth! but am asham'd to own my folly.

Volusius.
O shame! O infamy! the thought consumes me,
It scalds my eyes with tears, to see a Roman
Borne on our shoulders to immortal fame:
Just in the happy moment that decided
The long dispute of ages, that for which
Our generous ancestors had toil'd and bled,
To see him then step in and steal our glory!
O that we first had perish'd all! a people,
Who cannot find in their own proper force

Their own protection, are not worth the saving.

Tullus.
It must have way! I will no more suppress it—
Know, then, my rough old friend, no less than thee
His conduct stings me, and upbraids my folly.
I wake as from a dream. What demon mov'd me?
What doating generosity? His woes?
Was it his woes! to see the brave reduc'd
To trust his mortal foe? perhaps, a little
That work'd within my bosom—but, Volusius,
That was not all—I will to thee confess
The weakness of my heart—Yes, it was pride,
The dazzling pride to see my rival warrior,
The mighty Coriolanus, bend his soul,
His haughty soul, to sue for my protection.
Protection said I? Were it that alone,
I had been base to have refus'd him that,
To have refus'd him ought a gallant foe
Owes to a gallant foe.—But to exalt him
To the same level, nay above myself;
To yield him the command of half my troops,
The choicest acting half—That, that was madness!
Was weak, was mean, unworthy of a man!—

Volusius.
I scorn to flatter thee—It was indeed.

Tullus.
Curse on the slave Galesus! Soothing, he
Seiz'd the fond moment of infatuation,
And clinch'd the chains my generous folly forg'd.
How shall I from this labyrinth escape?
Must it then be! What cruel genius dooms me,
In war or peace to creep beneath his fortune?

Volusius.
That genius is thy self. If thou canst bear
The very thought of stooping to this Roman,
Thou from that moment art his vassal, Tullus;
By that thou dost acknowledge, parent nature
Has form'd him thy superior. But if fix'd

Upon the base of manly resolution,
Thou sayst—I will be free! I will command!
I and my country! then—O never doubt it—
We shall find means to crush this vain intruder;
Even I my self—this hand—
Nay, hear me, Tullus,
'Tis not yet come to that, that last resource.
I do not say we should employ the dagger,
While other better means are in our power.

Tullus.
No, my Volusius, fortune will not drive us,
Or I am much deceiv'd, to that extreme:
We shall not want the strongest, fairest plea,
To give a solemn sanction to his fate.
He will betray himself. Whate'er his rage
Of passion talks, a weakness for his country
Sticks in his soul, and he is still a Roman.
Soon shall we see him tempted to the brink
Of this sure precipice—Then down at once,
Without remorse, we hurl him to perdition.
But hark! The trumpet calls us to a scene
I should detest, if not from hope we thence
May gather matter to mature our purpose.

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