By the discovery, | Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. 2 Sen. Noble Aufidius, Take your commission; hie you to your bands: If they set down before us, for the remove Auf. O, doubt not that; I speak from certainties. Nay, more, All. The gods assist you! Auf. And keep your honours safe. 1 Sen. Farewell. 2 Sen. Farewell. All. Farewell. Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood! Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man, Than gilt his trophy. The breasts of Hecuba, WWhen she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood At Grecian swords' contending.-Tell Valeria, We are fit to bid her welcome. [exit gent. Vir. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius' Re-enter gentlewoman, with Valeria and her usher Vir. I am glad to see your ladyship. Val. How do you both? you are manifest housekeepers. What, are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith.-How does your little son? Vir. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. Vol. He had rather see the swords, and hear a [exeunt. drum, than look upon his schoolmaster. SCENE III. ROME. AN APARTMENT IN MARCIUS' HOUSE. Enter Volumnia and Virgilia: they sit down on two low stools, and sew. Vol. I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour, than in the embracements of his bed, where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way; when, for a day of kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding; I,-considering how honour would become such a person; that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir,-was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, -I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child, than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man. Το Vir. But had he died in the business, madam? how then? Vol. Then his good report should have been my son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely:-had I a dozen sons,―each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius,—I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country, than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. Enter a gentlewoman. you. Val. O'my word, the father's son: I'll swear, Vol. One of his father's moods. Val. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have Vol. She shall, she shall. Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience I will not over the threshold, till my lord return from the wars. Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in. Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither. Vol. Why, I pray you? [love. Vir. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want Val. You would be another Penelope; yet, they say, all the yarn she spun, in Ulysses' absence, did but fill Ithica full of moths. Come; I would, your cambrick were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, 1 will not forth. Val. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband. Vir. O, good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night. Vir. Indeed, madam? Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is:-The Volces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is goue, with one part of our Roman power: your lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down before their city, Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us. You shames of Rome! you herd of-Boils and Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorr'd [plagues Further than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, That bear the shapes of men, how have you run Vir. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey From slaves that apes would beat? Pluto and hell! you in every thing hereafter. All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale Vol. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge home, but disease our better mirth. Val. In troth, I think, she would.-Fare you well, then.-Come, good sweet lady.-Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemnness out o'door, and go along with us. Vir. No; at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth. Val. Well, then, farewell. SCENE IV. BEFORE CORIOLI. Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe, Corioli, and Marcius follows them to the gates. Enter, with drum and colours, Marcius, Titus Lar- Lart. Agreed. [met. Mar. Say, has our general met the enemy? [yet. Lart. No, I'll nor sell, nor give him: lend you him I will, [ours. For half a hundred years.-Summon the town. To help our fielded friends!-Come, blow thy blast. Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls? 1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he, That's lesser than a little, Hark, our drums alarums afar off. Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls, Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates, Which yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with rushes: They'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off: There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes Amongst your cloven army. [ho! Mar. O, they are at it. They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting. 1 Sol. Fool-hardiness! not I. 3 Sol. See, they [alarum continues. All. To the pot, I warrant him. Lart. What is become of Marcius? 1 Sol. Following the flyers at the very heels, Lart. O, noble fellow! Who, sensible, outdares his senseless sword, Lart. 'Tis Marcius: Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. [they fight, and all enter the city. SCENE V. WITHIN THE TOWN. A STREET. Enter certain Romans, with spoils. 1 Rom. This I will carry to Rome. 3 Rom. A murrain on't! I took this for silver. [alarum continues, still afar off. Enter Marcius and Titus Lartius, with a trumpet. Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their hours At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, And hark, what noise the general makes!—To Mar. All the contagion of the south light on you. To help Cominius. Mar. Sir, praise me not: Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, Com. Where is that slave, My work hath not yet warm'd me: fare you well. Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? The blood I drop is rather physical Than dangerous to me. I will appear, and fight. To Aufidius thus Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Mur. Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell! SCENE VI. NEAR THE CAMP OF COMINIUS. Enter Cominius and forces, retreating. we are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, May give you thankful sacrifice!-Thy news? [since? Com. Though thou speak'st truth, Com. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their Mess. Spies of the Volces Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel Enter Marcius. Com. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods! Mar. Come I too late? [tabor, Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue, From every meaner man's. Mar. Come I too late? They have plac'd their men of trust? Com. As I guess, Marcius, Their bands in the vaward are the Antiates, Mar. I do beseech you, By all the battles wherein we have fought, Com. Though I could wish You were conducted to a gentle bath, Mar. Those are they That most are willing:-If any such be here If any think, brave death outweighs bad life, Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, Though thanks to all, must I select: the rest But mantled in your own. Mar. O! let me clip you In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart Com. Flower of warriors, Mar. As with a man busied about decrees: Condemning some to death, and some to exile ; Ransoming him, or pitying, threat'ning the other; Shall bear the business in some other fight, Com. March on, my fellows: SCENE VII. THE GATES OF CORIOLI. Lexeunt. Titus Lartius, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with a drum and trumpet toward Cominine and Caius Marcius, enters with a Lieutenant, a party of soldiers, and a scout. The value of her own: 'twere a concealment Lart. So, let the ports be guarded: keep your To hide your doings; and to silence that, duties, As I have set them down. If I do send, despatch Lieu. Fear not our care, sir. Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon us.— Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. [exeunt. SCENE VIII. A FIELD OF BATTLE BETWEEN THE ROMAN AND THE VOLSCIAN CAMPS. Alarum; enter Marcius and Aufidius. Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do Worse than a promise-breaker. Auf. We hate alike; Not Afric owns a serpent, I abhor [hate thee More than thy fame and envy: fix thy foot. Mar. Let the first budger die the other's slave, And the gods doom him after ! Auf. If I fly, Marcius, Halloo me like a hare. Mar. Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, And made what work I pleas'd; 'tis not my blood, Wherein thou see'st me mask'd; for thy revenge, Wrench up thy power to the highest. Auf. Wert thou the Hector, That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, [they fight, and certain Volces come to the aid of Auf. Officious, and not valiant-you have sham'd me In your condemn'd seconds. [exeunt fighting, driven in by Marcius. SCENE IX. THE ROMAN CAMP. Alarum; o retreat is sounded. Flourish: enter, at one side, Cominius and Romans; at the other side, Marcius, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans. Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, Thou'lt not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it, Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug, I'the end, admire; where ladies shall be frighted, And, gladly quak'd, hear more; where the dull tribunes, That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast, Enter Titus Lartius,with his power, from the pursuit. Here is the steed, we the caparison: Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, Mar. I thank you, general; But cannot make my heart consent to take [a long flourish; they all cry, Marcius! Marcius! cast up their caps and lances: Cominius and Lartius stand bare. Mar. May these same instruments, which you As if I lov'd my little should be dieted Com. Too modest are you; [flourish; trumpets sound, and drums. All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus! Cor. I will go wash; And when my face is fair, you shall perceive I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me, And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter As often as we eat.-By the elements, If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, He is mine, or I am his.-Mine emulation 1 Sol. He's the devil. Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: my valour's With only suffering stain by him; for him, [poison'd, Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary, Being naked, sick; nor fane, nor Capitol, The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice, Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it At home, upon my brother's guard, even there Against the hospitable canon, would I Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city; Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must Be hostages for Rome. 1 Sol. Will not you go? Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you ('Tis south the city mills), bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it I may spur on my journey. 1 Sol. I shall, sir. ACT II. Enter Menenius, Sicinius, and Brutus. Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news to night. Bru. Good or bad? Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius. Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius. Bru. He's a lamb, indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you. Both Tri. Well, sir. [exeunt. angry at your pl asures; at the least, if you take it as pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud? Bru. We do it not alone, sir Men. I know, you can do very little alone; for your helps are many; or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infantlike, for doing much alone. You talk of pride; O, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could! Bru. What then, sir? Men. Why then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy, magistrates (alias, fools,) as any in Rome. Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a you two have not in abundance? Bru. And topping all others in boasting. Men. This is strange now: do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o'the right hand file? Do you? Both Tri. Why, how are we censured? drop of allaying Tyber in't; said to be something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty, and tinder-like, upon too trivial motion; one that converses more with the buttock of the night, than with the forehead of the morning. What I think, I utter; and spend my malice in my breath. Meeting two such weals-men as you are (I cannot call you Lycurguses), if the drink you give me, Men. Because you talk of pride now, will you touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face not be angry? Both Tri. Well, well, sir, well. Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: give your disposition the reins, and be at it. I cannot say, your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables: and, though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly, that |