Coriolanus.
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 Volscians stand but as at first,
Ready when time shall prompt them, to make ^{a note}inroad
Upon's again.

Com.
They're 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 Volscians, 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. Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Behold, these are the Tribunes of the people,
The tongues o'th common mouth: I do despise them,
For they do prank them in authority
Against all noble sufferance.

Sic.
Pass no further.

Cor.
Hah!—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 childrens voices?

Sen.
Tribunes, give way; he shall to th' 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, 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?

Bru.
How! I inform them!

Com.
You are like to do such business.

Bru.
Not unlike, each way, to better yours.

Cor.
Why then should I be Consul? by yond 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're bound, you must enquire your way,
Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
Or ne'er to 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; this paltring
Becomes not Rome: nor has Coriolanus
Deserv'd this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsly
I'th' 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—
As for my nobler friends, I crave their pardons:
But for the mutable rank-scented many,
Let them regard me, as I do not flatter,
And there behold themselves: I say again,
In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our Senate
The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we our selves have plow'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 we 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 measles
Which we disdain should tetter us, yet seek
The very way to catch them.

Bru.
You speak o'th' people, as 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 minnows? mark you
His absolute shall?

Com.
'Twas from the canon.

Cor.
Shall!—
O God!—but most unwise patricians; why
You grave, but wreakless Senators, have you thus
Given Hydra here to chuse an officer,
That with his peremptory shall, being but
The horn and noise o'th' monsters, wants not spirit
To say, he'll turn your current in a ditch,
And make your channel his? If he have power,
Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake
Your dangerous lenity: if you are learned,
Be not as common fools; if you are not,
Let them have cushions by you. You're plebeians,
If they be Senators; and they are no less,
When both your voices blended; the greatest taste
Most palates theirs. They chuse their magistrate,
And such a one as he, who puts his shall,
His popular shall, against a graver bench
Than ever frown'd in Greece. By Jove himself,
It makes the Consuls base; and my soul akes
To know when two authorities are up,
Neither supream, how soon confusion
May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take
The one by th' other.

Com.
Well—on to th' market-place.

Cor.
Who ever gave that counsel, to give forth
The corn o'th' storehouse, gratis, as 'twas us'd
Sometime in Greece—

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 worthy than their voices. They know the corn
Was not our recompence, resting well assur'd
They ne'er did service for't, being prest to th' war,
Even when the navel of the state was touch'd,
They would not thread the gates: this kind of service
Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i'th' war,
Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they shew'd
Most valour, spoke not for them. Th' accusation
Which they have often made against the Senate,
All cause unborn, could never be the native
Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
How shall this bosom-multiplied digest
The Senate's courtesie? let deeds express
What's like to be their words—we did request it—
We are the greater poll, and in true fear
They gave us our demands.—Thus we debase
The nature of our seats, and make the rabble
Call our cares, fears; which will in time break ope
The locks o'th' Senate, and bring in the crows
To peck the eagles—

Men.
Come, enough.

Bru.
Enough, with over measure.

Cor.
No, take more.
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 gen'ral ignorance, it must omit
Real necessities, and give way the while
T' unstable slightness; purpose so barr'd, it follows
Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,
(You that will be less fearful than discreet,
That love the fundamental part of state
More than you doubt the change of't; that prefer
A noble life before a long, and wish
To ^{b note}vamp a body with a dangerous physick,
That's sure of death without,) at once pluck out
The multitudinous tongue, let them not lick
The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonour
Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state
Of that integrity which should become it:
Not having power to do the good it would
For th' ill which doth controul it.

Bru.
H'as said enough.

Sic.
H'as spoken like a traitor, and shall answer
As traitors do.

Cor.
Thou wretch! despight o'er-whelm thee!—
What should the people do with these bald Tribunes?
On whom depending, their obedience fails
To th' 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, it must be meet,
And throw their power i'th' dust.

Bru.
Manifest treason—

Sic.
This a Consul? no.

Bru.
The Ædiles, ho; let him be apprehended.

Sic.
Go call the people, in whose name my self

Attach thee as a traiterous innovator:
A foe to th' publick weal. Obey I charge thee,
And follow to thine answer. [Laying hold on Coriolanus.

Cor.
Hence, old goat.

All.
We'll surety him.

Com.
Ag'd Sir, hands off.

Cor.
Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones
Out of thy garments.

Sic.
Help me, citizens. SCENE II. Enter a Rabble of Plebeians 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 hoe—
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,
Coriolanus; patience; speak, 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:
Martius would have all from you: Martius,
Whom late you nam'd for Consul.

Men.
Fie, fie, fie,
This is the way to kindle, not to quench.

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 peoples 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'th' people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Martius is worthy
Of present death.

Sic.
Therefore lay hold on him;
Bear him to th' rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.

Bru.
Ædiles, seize him.

All Ple.
Yield, Martius, 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 friends,
And temp'rately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.

Bru.
Sir, those cold ways,
That seem like prudent helps, are very poysonous,
Where the disease is violent. Lay hands on him,
And bear him to the rock. [Cor. draws his Sword.

Cor.
No, I'll dye here;
There's some among you have beheld me fighting,

Come try upon your selves, what you have seen me.

Men.
Down with that sword, Tribunes withdraw a-while.

Bru.
Lay hands upon him.

Men.

Help Martius, 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. SCENE III.

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

2 Sen.
Get you gone.

Com.
Stand fast, we have as many friends as enemies.

Men.
Shall it be put to that?

Sen.
The Gods forbid:
I pr'ythee noble friend, home to thy house,
Leave us to cure this cause.

Men.
For 'tis a sore
You cannot tent your self; begone, 'beseech you.

Com.
Come, Sir, along with us.

Men.
I would they were Barbarians, as they are,
Though in Rome litter'd; not Romans, as they are not,
Though calved in the porch o'th' Capitol:
Begone, put not your worthy rage into your tongue,
One time will owe another.

Cor.

On fair ground I could beat forty of them.

Men.

I could my self take up a brace o'th' best of them, yea the two Tribunes.

Com.
But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetick,
And manhood is call'd fool'ry when it stands
Against a falling fabrick. Will you hence,

Before the tag return, 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 if my old wit be in request
With those that have but little; this must be patcht
With cloth of any colour.

Com.
Come away. [Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius. SCENE IV.

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's power to thunder: his heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And being angry, does 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 Tyber. What the vengeance,
Could he not speak 'em fair? Enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble again.

Sic.
Where is this viper,
That would 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 tryal
Than the severity of publick power,

Which he so sets at nought.

1 Cit.
He shall well know the noble Tribunes are
The peoples mouths, and we their hands.

All.
He shall be sure on't.

Men.
Sir, Sir.—

Sic.
Peace.

Men.
Do not cry havock, where you should but hunt
With modest warrant.

Sic.
Sir, how comes it 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
Tow'rds her deserving 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.
Oh, he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easie.
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 dropt 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 th' end o'th' world.

Sic.
This is clean wrong.

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

Men.
The service of the foot,
Being once gangreen'd, it is not then respected
For what before it was—

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 tiger-footed rage, when it shall find
The harm of unskann'd swiftness, will (too late)
Tye leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process,
Lest parties (as he is belov'd) break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru.
If 'twere so—

Sic.
What do ye talk?
Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our Ædiles smote, our selves resisted, come—

Men.
Consider this; he hath been bred i'th' 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 human way: the other course
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic.
Noble Menenius,
Be you then as the peoples officer.
Masters, lay down your weapons,

Bru.
Go not home.

Sic.
Meet on the forum; we'll attend you there,
Where, if you bring not Martius, we'll proceed
In our first way.

Men.
I'll bring him to you.
Let me desire your company; he must come,
Or what is worst will follow.

1 Sen.
Pray let's to him. [Exeunt. SCENE V. The House of Coriolanus. Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.

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.

Noble.
You do the nobler.

Cor.
I muse, my mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy and sell with groats, to shew bare heads
In congregations, yawn, be still, and wonder,
When one but of my ordinance stood up
To speak of peace, or war; (I talk of you)
Why did you wish me milder? wou'd you have me
False to my nature? rather say, I play
The man I am.

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

Cor.
Let's go.

Vol.
You might have been enough the man you are,
With striving less to be so. Lesser had been
The things that thwart your dispositions, if
You had not shew'd them how ye were dispos'd
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor.
Let them hang.

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

Men.
Come, come, you've 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 counsell'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:

Before he should thus stoop to th' heart, but that
The violent fit o'th' times craves it as physick
For the whole state, I'd put mine armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor.
What must I do?

Men.
Return to th' Tribunes.

Cor.
Well, what then? what then?

Men.
Repent what you have spoke.

Cor.
For them? I cannot do it for the Gods,
Must I then do't to them?

Vol.
You are too absolute,
Tho' therein you can never be too noble,
But when extremities speak. I've heard you say,
Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,
I'th'war do grow together: grant that, and tell me
In peace, what each of them by th' other loses,
That they combine not there?

Cor.
Tush, tush—

Men.
A good demand.

Vol.
If it be honour in your wars, to seem
The same you are not, which for your best ends
You call your policy: how is't less or worse
That it shall hold companionship in peace
With honour, as in war, since that to both
It stands in like request.

Cor.
Why force you this?

Vol.
Because it lyes on you to speak to th' people:
Not by your own instruction, nor by th' matter
Which your heart prompts you to, but with such words
But roated in your tongue; bastards, and syllables
Of no allowance, to your bosom's truth.
Now, this no more dishonours you at all,
Than to take in a town with gentle words,

Which else would put you to your fortune, and
The hazard of much blood.
I would dissemble with my nature, where
My fortunes and my friends at stake requir'd
I should do so in honour. I'm in this
Your wife, your son: these senators the nobles,
And you will rather shew our general lowts,
How you can frown, than spend a fawn upon 'em,
For the inheritance of their loves, and safegard
Of what that want might ruin.

Men.
Noble lady!
Come go with us, speak fair: you may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.

Vol.
I pr'ythee now, my son,
Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand,
And thus far having stretch'd it (here be with them)
Thy knee bussing the stones; for in such business
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th' ignorant
More learned than the ears, waving thy head,
Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart
Now humble as the ripest mulberry,
That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
Hast not the soft way, which thou dost confess
Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim,
In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
Thy self (forsooth) hereafter theirs so far,
As thou hast power and person.

Men.
This but done,
Ev'n as she speaks, why all their hearts were yours:
For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free,
As words to little purpose.

Vol.
Pr'ythee now,
Go and be rul'd: altho' I know thou'dst rather
Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
Than flatter him in a bower. Enter Cominius.
Here is Cominius.

Com.
I have been i'th' market-place, and Sir, 'tis fit
You have strong party, or defend your self
By calmness, or by absence: all's in anger.

Men.
Only fair speech.

Com.
I think 'twill serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.

Vol.
He must and will:
Pr'ythee now say you will, and go about it.

Cor.
Must I go shew them my unbarbed sconce?
Must my base tongue give to my noble heart
A lie, that it must bear? well, I will do't:
Yet were there but this single plot, to lose
This mould of Martius, they to dust should ^{c note}grind it,
And throw't against the wind. To th' market-place!
You've put me now to such a part, which never
I shall discharge to th' life.

Com.
Come, come, we'll prompt you.

Vol.
Ay, pr'ythee now sweet son, as thou hast said
My praises made thee first a soldier; so
To have my praise for this, perform a part
Thou hast not done before.

Cor.
Well, I must do't:
&plquo;Away my disposition, and possess me
&plquo;Some harlot's spirit: my throat of war be turn'd,
&plquo;Which quired with my drum, into a pipe
&plquo;Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice

&plquo;That babies lulls asleep; the smiles of knaves
&plquo;Tent in my cheeks, and school-boys tears take up
&plquo;The glasses of my sight: a beggar's tongue
&plquo;Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees
&plquo;Which bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his
&plquo;That hath receiv'd an alms. I will not do't,
&plquo;Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth,
&plquo;And by my body's action, teach my mind
&plquo;A most inherent baseness.

Vol.
At thy choice then:
To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour,
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin, let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear
Thy dangerous stoutness: for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list.
Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me:
But own thy pride thy self.

Cor.
Pray be content:
Mother, I'm going to the market-place:
Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves,
Cog their hearts from them, and come home belov'd
Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going:
Commend me to my wife. I'll return Consul,
Or never trust to what my tongue can do
I'th' way of flattery further.

Vol.
Do your will. [Exit Volumnia.

Com.
Away, the Tribunes do attend you: arm
Your self to answer mildly: for they're prepar'd
With accusations, as I hear, more strong
Than are upon you yet.

Cor.
The word is, mildly. Pray you let us go.
Let them accuse me by invention: I
Will answer in mine honour.

Men.
Ay, but mildly.

Cor.
Well, mildly be it then, mildly. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. The Forum. Enter Sicinius and Brutus.

Bru.
In this point charge him home, that he affects
Tyrannic power: if he evade us there,
Inforce him with his envy to the people,
And that the spoil got on the Antiates
Was ne'er distributed. What, will he come? Enter an Ædile.

Æd.
He's coming.

Bru.
How accompanied?

Æd.
With old Menenius, and those senators
That always favour'd him.

Sic.
Have you a catalogue
Of all the voices that we have procur'd,
Set down by th' poll?

Æd.
I have; 'tis ready, here.

Sic.
Have you collected them by tribes?

Æd.
I have.

Sic.
Assemble presently the people hither,
And when they hear me say, It shall be so,
I'th' right and strength o'th' commons; be it either
For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them,
If I say fine, cry fine; if death, cry death,
Insisting on the old prerogative
And power i'th' truth o'th' cause.

Æd.
I will inform them.

Bru.
And when such time they have begun to cry,
Let them not cease, but with a din confus'd
Inforce the present execution
Of what we chance to sentence.

Æd.
Very well.

Sic.
Make them be strong, and ready for this hint,
When we shall hap to give't them.

Bru.
Go about it. [Exit Ædile.
Put him to choler streight; he hath been us'd
Ever to conquer, and to have his word
Of contradiction. Being once chaft, he cannot
Be rein'd again to temp'rance; then he speaks
What's in his heart; and that is there, which looks
With us to break his neck. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with others.

Sic.
Well, here he comes.

Men.
Calmly I do beseech you.

Cor.
Ay, as an hostler, that for the poorest piece
Will bear the knave by th' volume: the honour'd Gods
Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice
Supply with worthy men, plant love amongst you
Through our large temples with the shews of peace,
And not our streets with war.

1 Sen.
Amen, amen.

Men.
A noble wish. Enter the Ædile with the Plebeians.

Sic.
Draw near, ye people.

Æd.
List to your Tribunes: audience;
Peace, I say.

Cor.
First, hear me speak.

Both Tri.
Well, say: peace, ho.

Cor.
Shall I be charg'd no further than this present?
Must all determine here?

Sic.
I do demand,
If you submit you to the peoples voices,
Allow their officers, and are content
To suffer lawful censure for such faults
As shall be prov'd upon you?

Cor.
I am content.

Men.
Lo, citizens, he says he is content:
The warlike service he has done, consider;
Think on the wounds his body bears, which shew
Like graves i'th' holy church-yard.

Cor.
Scratches with briars, scars to move
Laughter only.

Men.
Consider further:
That when he speaks not like a citizen,
You find him like a soldier; do not take
His rougher actions for malicious sounds:
But, as I say, such as become a soldier.
Rather than envy, you—

Com.
Well, well, no more.

Cor.
What is the matter,
That being past for Consul with full voice,
I'm so dishonour'd, that the very hour
You take it off again?

Sic.
Answer to us.

Cor.
Say then: 'tis true, I ought so.

Sic.
We charge you, that you have contriv'd to take
From Rome all season'd office, and to wind
Your self unto a power tyrannical,
For which you are a traitor to the people.

Cor.
How? traitor?

Men.
Nay, temperately: your promise.

Cor.
The fires i'th' lowest hell fold in the people!
Call me their traitor! thou injurious Tribune!
Within thine eyes sate twenty thousand deaths,
In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers; I would say
Thou liest unto thee, with a voice as free,
As I do pray the Gods.

Sic.
Mark you this, people?

All.
To th' rock with him.

Sic.
Peace:
We need not put new matter to his charge:
What you have seen him do, and heard him speak,
Beating your officers, cursing your selves,
Opposing laws with stroaks, and here defying
Those whose great power must try him, even this
So criminal, and in such capital kind,
Deserves th' extreamest death.

Bru.
But since he hath
Serv'd well for Rome—

Cor.
What do you prate of service?

Bru.
I talk of that, that know it.

Cor.
You?—

Men.
Is this the promise that you made your mother?

Com.
Know, I pray you—

Cor.
I'll know no farther:
Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, fleaing, pent to linger
But with a grain a-day, I would not buy
Their mercy at the price of one fair word,
Nor check my courage for what they can give,
To have't with saying, good-morrow.

Sic.
For that he has

(As much as in him lyes) from time to time
Envy'd against the people: seeking means
To pluck away their power; as now at last
Giv'n hostile stroaks, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
That do distrubute it, in the name o'th' people,
And in the power of us the Tribunes, we
(Ev'n from this instant) banish him our city,
In peril of percipitation
From off the rock Tarpeian, never more
To enter our Rome's gates. I'th' people's name,
I say it shall be so.

All.
It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away:
He's banish'd, and it shall be so.

Com.
Hear me, my masters, and my common friends—

Sic.
He's sentenc'd: no more hearing.

Com.
Let me speak:
I have been Consul, and can shew from Rome,
Her enemies marks upon me. I do love
My country's good, with a respect more tender,
More holy, and profound, than mine own life,
My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase,
And treasure of my loyns: then if I would
Speak that—

Sic.
We know your drift. Speak what?

Bru.
There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd
As enemy to the people, and his country.
It shall be so.

All.
It shall be so, it shall be so.

Cor.
You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate,
As reek o'th' rotten fenns; whose loves I prize,
As the dead carkasses of unburied men,
That do corrupt my air: I banish you.

And here remain with your uncertainty,
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts,
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair: have the power still
To banish your defenders, till at length,
Your ignorance (which finds not till it feels,
Making but reservation of your selves
Still your own enemies) deliver you
As most abated captives to some nation
That won you without blows. Despising then
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere— [Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others. [The people shout, and throw up their caps.

Ædile.
The people's enemy is gone, is gone!

All.
Our enemy is banish'd; he is gone! Hoo, hoo!

Sic.
Go see him out at gates, and follow him
As he hath follow'd you; with all despight
Give him deserv'd vexation. Let a guard
Attend us through the city.

All.
Come, come; let's see him out at the gates; come.
The Gods preserve our noble Tribunes; come. [Exeunt.

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