1.2. Serv. What, what, what? let's partake. 3 Serv. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lieve be a condemned man.

1. 2. Serv. Wherefore? wherefore? 3 Serv. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general,-Caius Marcius.

1 Serv. Why do you say, thwack our general? 3 Serv. I do not say, thwack our general; but he was always good enough for him.

2 Serv. Come, we are fellows, and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.

1 Serv. He was too hard for him directly, to say the truth on't: before Corioli, he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a carbonado.

2 Serv. An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too. I Serv. But, more of thy news?

3 Serv. Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son and heir to Mars: set at upper end o'the table: no question asked him by any of the senators, but they stand bald before him: Our general himself makes a mistress of him; sanctifies himself with's hand, and turns up the white o'the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i'the middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, and sowle the porter of Rome gates by the ears: He will mow down all before him, and leave his passage poll'd.

2 Serv. And he's as like to do't, as any man I can imagine.

3 Serv. Do't? he will do't: For, look you, sir, he has as many friends as enemies: which friends, sir, (as it were,) durst not (look you, sir,) show themselves (as we term it,) his friends, whilst he's in directitude.

1 Serv. Directitude! what's that?

3 Serv. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with him.

1 Serv. But when goes this forward?

3 Serv. To-morrow; to-day; presently. You shall have the drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.

2 Serv. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

1 Serv. Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children, than wars a destroyer of men.

2 Serv. 'Tis so: and as wars, in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher; so it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.

1 Serv. Ay, and it makes men hate one another. 3 Serv. Reason; because they then less need

one another. The wars, for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volcians. They are rising, they are rising. All. In, in, in, in. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-Rome. A public place.

Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.

Sic. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him;

His remedies are tame i'the present peace
And quietness o'the people, which before
Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends
Blush, that the world goes well; who rather had,
Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold
Dissentious numbers pestering streets, than see
Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going
About their functions friendly.

Enter MENENIUS.

Bru. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?

Sic. 'Tis he, 'tis he: O, he is grown most kind Of late.—Hail, sir!

Men. Hail to you both!

Sic. Your Coriolanus, sir, is not much miss'd, But with his friends: the common-wealth doth stand;

And so would do, were he more angry at it. Men. All's well; and might have been much better, if

He could have temporiz'd.

Sic. Where is he, hear you?

Men. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife

Hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four Citizens. Cit. The gods preserve you both! Sic. Good-e'en, our neighbours.

Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all. 1 Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees,

Are bound to pray for you both.

Sic. Live, and thrive!
Bru. Farewell, kind neighbours: We wish'd
Coriolanus

Had lov'd you as we did.

Cit. Now the gods keep you!

Both Tri. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Citizens. Sic. This is a happier and more comely time, Than when these fellows ran about the streets, Crying, Confusion.

Bru. Caius Marcius was

A worthy officer i'the war; but insolent, O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving,

Sic. And affecting one sole throne, Without assistance.

Men. I think not so.

Sic. We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

Sic. 'Tis this slave ;

O'erborne their way, consum'd with fire, and took What lay before them.

Enter COMINIUS.

Com. O, you have made good work!
Men. What news? what news?

Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and

To melt the city leads upon your pates;
To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses;-
Men. What's the news? what's the news?
Com. Your temples burned in their cement;
and

Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd
Into an augre's bore.

Men. Pray now, your news?—

You have made fair work, I fear me :-Pray, your news?

If Marcius should be join'd with Volcians,—
Com. If!

He is their god; he leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better: and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no less confidence,
Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
Or butchers killing flies.

Men. You have made good work,

You, and your apron-men; you, that stood so much

Upon the voice of occupation, and
The breath of garlick-eaters!

Com. He will shake

Your Rome about your ears.

Men. As Hercules

Did shake down mellow fruit: You have made

fair work!

Bru. But is this true, sir?

Com. Ay; and you'll look pale

Nothing but his report!

Mess. Yes, worthy sir,

The slave's report is seconded; and more,
More fearful, is deliver'd.

Sic. What more fearful?

Mess. It is spoke freely out of many mouths, (How probable, I do not know,) that Marcius, Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome; And vows revenge as spacious, as between The young'st and oldest thing.

Sic. This is most likely!

Bru. Rais'd only, that the weaker sort may wish Good Marcius home again.

Sic. The very trick on't.
Men. This is unlikely:

He and Aufidius can no more atone,
Than violentest contrariety.

Enter another Messenger.

Mess. You are sent for to the senate: A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius, Associated with Aufidius, rages

Do smilingly revolt; and, who resist,
Are only mock'd for valiant ignorance,
And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame

SCENE I.-Rome. A public place.
Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS,
BRUTUS, and Others.

Men. No, I'll not go: you hear, what he hath said,

Which was sometime his general; who lov'd him
In a most dear particular. He call'd me, father:
But what o'that? Go, you that banish'd him,
A mile before his tent fall down, and kneel
The way into his mercy: Nay, if he coy'd
To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
Com. He would not seem to know me.
Men. Do you hear?

Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name:
I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to: forbade all names;
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
Till he had forg'd himself a name i'the fire
Of burning Rome.

Men. Why, so; you have made good work: A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, To make coals cheap: A noble memory!

Com. I minded him, how royal 'twas to pardon,
When it was less expected: He replied,
It was a bare petition of a state

To one whom they had punish'd.
Men. Very well:

Could he say less?

Com. I offer'd to awaken his regard

For his private friends: His answer to me was, He could not stay to pick them in a pile

Of noisome, musty chaff: He said, 'twas folly, For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, And still to nose the offence.

Men. For one poor grain

Or two? I am one of those; his mother, wife, His child, and this brave fellow too, we are the grains :

You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt Above the moon: We must be burnt for you.

Sic. Nay, pray, be patient: If you refuse your aid In this so never-heeded help, yet do not Upbraid us with our distress. But, sure, if you Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,

More than the instant army we can make,
Might stop our countryman.
Men. No; I'll not meddle.
Sic. I pray you, go to him.
Men. What should I do?

Bru. Only make trial what your love can do

For Rome, towards Marcius.

Men. Well, and say that Marcius Return me, as Cominius is return'd, Unheard; what then?—

But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
With his unkindness? Say't be so?

Sic. Yet your good will

Must have that thanks from Rome, after the

measure

As you intended well.

Men. I'll undertake it:

I think, he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip,
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
He was not taken well; he had not din'd:
The veins untill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but, when we have stuff'd
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll
watch him

Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.

Bru. You know the very road into his kindness, And cannot lose your way.

Men. Good faith, I'll prove him,
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success.
[Exit.

Com. He'll never hear him.
Sic. Not?

Com. I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him: 'Twas very faintly he said, Rise; dismiss'd me Thus, with his speechless hand: What he would do,

He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
Bound with an oath, to yield to his conditions:
So, that all hope is vain,

Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.

[Exeunt.

2 G. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire, before

You'll speak with Coriolanus.

Men. Good my friends,

If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks,
My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.
1 G. Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name
Is not here passable.

Men. I tell thee, fellow,

Thy general is my lover: I have been

Men. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; you shall know now, that I am in estimation; you shall perceive, that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment with him, if thou stand'st not i'the state of hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee.-The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old

His fame unparallel'd, haply, amplified ;
For I have ever verified my friends,
(Of whom he's chief,) with all the size that verity
Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes,,
Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,

I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing: Therefore, fellow,

I must have leave to pass.

1 G. 'Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf, as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here: no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chastely. Therefore, go back.

Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary on the party of your general.

2 G. Howsoever you have been his liar, (as you say, you have,) I am one that, telling true under him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back.

Men. Has he dined, can'st thou tell? for I would not speak with him till after dinner. 1 G. You are a Roman, are you? Men. I am as thy general is.

1 G. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the very defender of them, and, in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.

Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation.

2 G. Come, my captain knows you not. Men. I mean, thy general.

1 G. My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go, lest I let forth your half pint of blood; -back,-that's the utmost of your having:back.

Men. Nay, but fellow, fellow,

Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. Cor. What's the matter?

Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My
affairs

Are servanted to others: Though I owe
My revenge properly, my remission lies
In Volcian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
Than pity note how much.-Therefore, be gone.
Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than
Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,
Take this along; I writ it for thy sake,

[Gives a letter. And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak.-This man, Aufidius, Was my belov'd in Rome: yet thou behold'st— Auf. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. 1 G. Now, sir, is your name Menenius? 2 G. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: You know the way home again.

1 G. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

2G. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?

Men. I neither care for the world, nor your general: for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, you are so slight. He, that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another. Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was said to, Away! [Exit.

1 G. A noble fellow. I warrant him. 2 G. The worthy fellow is our general: he is the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The tent of CORIOLANUS. Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and Others. Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to◄

morrow