And our most noble matrons, work upon him;
They yet may bring us peace.

All. We will, we will.

Com. The Roman gods prosper their embassy!

ACT THE FIFTH.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

The Volscian Camp.

Flourish of Drums and Trumpets.

CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, TULLUS AUFIDIUS, VOLUSIUS, SENATORS, OFFICERS, and SOLDIERS.

Cor. Here, noble Tullus, sit, and judge my con

duct;

1

Nor spare to check me, if I act amiss.

Auf. Marcius, the Volscian fate is in thy hand.

Enter VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, YOUNG MARCIUS, VaLERIA, and ROMAN LADIES, in mourning Habits.

Cor. My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould

Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! All bond and privilege of nature, break!

Let it be virtuous, to be obstinate. [VIRGILIA bows. What is that court'sy worth? or those dove's eyes, Which can make gods forsworn? [VOLUMNIA bows. My mother bows;

As if Olympus to a mole-hill should

2

In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which

Great Nature cries, "Deny not."-Let the Vol- .

scians

Plough Rome, and harrow Italy;
I'll stand,

As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin.

Vir. My lord and husband!
Cor. I melt, and am not

Of stronger earth than others.-
O, a kiss,

Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!

Now by the jealous queen of heav'n, that kiss
I carry'd from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er since.-You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted: Sink, my knee, i'the earth;
Of thy deep duty more impression show
Than that of common sons.

Vol. O, stand up bless'd !

Thou art my warrior;

I holp to frame thee.-Do you know this lady?

[Pointing to VALERIA.

Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,

The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,

That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple.

Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,

[Presenting YOUNG MARCIUS.

Which, by the interpretation of full time,

May show like all yourself.

Cor. The god of soldiers,

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st

prove

To shame invulnerable, and stick i̇'the wars.

G

Like a great seamark, standing every flaw,

And saving those that eye thee!

Vol. Your knee, sirrah.

Cor. That's my brave boy.

Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you.

Cor. I beseech you, peace:

Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;

The things, I have forsworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanics :-tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural :-desire not

To allay my rages and revenges with

Your colder reasons.

Vol. 9, no more, no more!

You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: yet we will ask;
That, if
you fail in our request, the blame

May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volscians, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request ?
Vol. Think with thyself,

How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither:-

For either thou

Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles thorough our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood.

Čor. I have sat too long.

Vol. Nay, go not from us thus.

If it were so, that our request did tend

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy

The Volscians whom you serve, you might condemn

us,

As poisonous of your honour? No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volscians
May say," This mercy we have show'd;" the Romans,
"This we receiv'd;" and each, in either side,

Give the all-hail to thee, and cry," Be bless'd
For making up this peace!"

Cor. Those walls contain the most corrupt of men,
Insolent foes to worth, the foes of virtue.
Vol. Daughter, speak you;

He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou, boy; Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more

Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the world
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy ;

When she, (poor hen !) fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour.

Auf. See, see, Volusius, how the strong emotions
Of powerful nature shake his inmost soul!
See, how they tear him!-If he long resist them,
He is a god, or something worse than man.

Vol. He turns away:

Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
Nay behold us:

This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child

Like him by chance; Yet give us our despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,

And then I'll speak a little.

Vir. Since, Coriolanus, thou dost still retain,
In spite of all thy mother now has pleaded,
Thy dreadful purpose,-ah, how much in vain

Were it for me to join my supplications!

The voice of his Virgilia, once so pleasing,
How shall it hope to touch the husband's heart,
When proof against the tears of such a parent?
But I must weep :-

O, permit me,

To shed my gushing tears upon thy hand,
And take my last farewell!

Cor. Leave me.

Vir. I obey. How bitter thus to part, Upon such terms to part, perhaps for ever! But, tell me, ere I hence unroot my feet, When to my lonely home I shall return,—

Cor. Come; and complete my happiness at Antium, You, and my honour'd mother:

There shall you see with what respect, the Volscians Will treat the wife, and mother, of their general.

Vol. Treat us thyself with more respect, my son;
Nor dare to shock our ears with such proposals.
Shall we desert our country,-we—who come
To plead her cause ?-Ah, no,-a grave in Rome
Would better please me than a throne at Antium.
Cor. Cease, cease, to torture me :

You only tear my heart, but cannot shake it.—
By the immortal gods,-

Vir. O, vow not our destruction!

Vol. Daughter, rise :

[Falling on her Knees.

Let us no more before the Volscian people
Expose ourselves a spectacle of shame.-
Hear me, proud man! I have

A heart as stout as thine: I came not hither,
To be sent back rejected, baffled, sham'd,
Hateful to Rome, because I am thy mother:
A Roman matron knows, in such extremes,
What part to take.-

Go, barb'rous son; go, double parricide ;