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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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SCENE II. The same. The Senate-House.

-- 42 --

Enter two Officers, laying Cushions.

1. O.

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

2. O.

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

1. O.

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

2. O.

'Faith, there have been many great men, that have flatter'd the people, who ne'er loved them; and there be many that they have loved, 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, he lets them plainly see't.

1. O.

If he did not care whether he had their love, or no, he waved 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. O.

He hath deserved worthily of his country: And his ascent note14Q0974 is not by such easy degrees as theirs note, who have been note supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, without any further deed to heave them note at all into their estimation and report: but he hath so planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions in their hearts, that for their tongues to be silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of ingrateful injury; to report otherwise,

-- 43 --

were a malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.

1. O.

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

Sennet. Enter, with Lictors before them, Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, divers other Senators, Brutus, and Sicinius: Senators take their Seats; Tribunes theirs by themselves.

Men.
Having determin'd of the Volcians, 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 note
In our well-found sucesses, to report
A little of that worthy work perform'd
By Caius Marcius Coriolanus; whom
We are met here, both to thank, and to remember
With honours like himself.

1. S.
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; note and, after,
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
The theme of our assembly.

Bru.
Which the rather

-- 44 --


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

Men.
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 bedfellow.—
Worthy Cominius, speak:—Nay, keep your place.
[to Cor. who rises, and is going out.

1. S.
Sit, Coriolanus note; 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, note
When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.
You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not: But, your people,—
I love them as they weigh.

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 how can he flatter,
(That's thousand to one good one) when you now see,
He had rather venture all his limbs for honour,

-- 45 --


Than one of's ears note 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,
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 note he drove
The bristl'd 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,
He prov'd best man i'the field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age note
Man-enter'd thus, he waxed note like a sea;
And, in the brunt of seventeen battles since,
He lurch'd all swords o'the garland. 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 note
A vessel under sail, so men obey'd,
And fell below his stern: note his sword, death's stamp,
Where it did mark, it took from face to foot:
He was a thing of blood, whose every motion
Was tim'd with note dying cries: alone he enter'd14Q0975
The mortal gate o'the city, which he painted
With shunless destiny note; aidless came off,

-- 46 --


And with a sudden re-inforcement struck
Corioli, like a planet: Now all's his: note14Q0976
When by and by the din of war 'gan pierce
His ready sense: then straight his doubl'd spirit
Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate,
And to the battle came he; where he did
Run reeking note o'er the lives of men, as if
'Twere a perpetual spoil: and, 'till we call'd
Both field and city ours, he never stood
To ease his breast with panting note.

Men.
Worthy man!

1. S.
He cannot but with measure fit the note 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
Than misery itself would give; rewards
His deeds with doing them; and is content
To spend the time, to end it.

Men.
He's right noble;
Let him be call'd for.

1. S.
Call Coriolanus.

1. O.
He doth appear.
Re-enter Coriolanus.

Men.
The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd
To make thee consul.

Cor.
I do owe them still
My life, and services.

Men.
It then remains,
That you do speak to the people.

Cor.
I do beseech you,
Let me o'er-leap that custom; for I cannot

-- 47 --


Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them,
For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you,
That I may pass this doing.

Sic.
Sir, the people
Must have their voices; neither will they bate
One jot of ceremony.

Men.
Put them not to't:—
Pray you, go fit you to the custom; and
Take to you, as your predecessors have,
Your honour with your form.

Cor.
It is a part
That I shall blush in acting, and might well
Be taken from the people.

Bru.
Mark you that?

Cor.
To brag unto them,—Thus I did, and thus;
Shew them the unaking scars, which I should hide,
As if I had receiv'd them for the hire
Of their breath only:

Men.
Do not stand upon't.—
We recommend to you, tribunes of the people,
Our purpose to them;—and to our noble consul
Wish we all joy and honour.

Sen.
To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!
[Flourish. Exeunt Senators.

Bru.
You see how he intends to use the people.

Sic.
May they perceive his intent! He will require them,
As if he did contemn what he requested
Should be in them to give.

Bru.
Come, we'll inform them
Of our proceedings here: on the market-place,
I know, they do attend us.
[Exeunt.

-- 48 --

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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
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