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Vol. He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his schoolmaster. Val. O' my word, the father's son; I'll swear, 'tis a very pretty boy. O'my troth, I looked upon him o' Wednesday half an hour together: he has such a confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly; and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again: catched it again: or whether his fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth, and tear it; 0, I warrant, how he mammocked it! Vol. One of his father's moods. Val. Indeed la, 'tis a noble child. Vir. A crack, madam.

Fir. No, good madam, I will not out of doors.
l'al. Not out of doors!
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. Fye, you confine yourself most unreasonably; Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.

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 Val. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must the embracements of his bed, where he would have you play the idle huswife with me this show most love. When yet he was but tender-afternoon. 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. To 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 [how then? Vir. But had he died in the business, madam? 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.

a man.

Enter a Gentlewoman.

Gent, Madam, the lady Valeria is come to

visit you.

Vir. Beseech you, give me leave to retire Vol. Indeed, you shall not. [myself. Methinks, I hear hither your husband's drum; See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair; As children from a bear, the Volces shunning him:

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 Ithaca 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, I 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 gone, with one part of our Roman power: your Methinks, I see him stamp thus, and call thus,-lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down before their Come on, you cowards, you were got in fear, Though you were born in Rome: His bloody brow With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes; Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow Or all, or lose his hire.

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, When 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! Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee, And tread upon his neck.

lo-cuter Gentlewoman, with VALERIA and her
Usher.

Val. My ladies both, good day to you.
Vol. Sweet madam,-

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
Bon?

Vir. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.!

city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on muine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.

Vir. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

Vol. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will 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 solemness 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.

[Exeunt.

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Mess. They lie in view; but have not spoke
Lart. So, the good horse is mine. [as yet.
Mar.
I'll buy him of you.
Lart. No, I'll nor sell, nor give him: lend
you him I will,

For half a hundred years.-Summon the town.
Mar. How far off lie these armies?
Mess.

Within this mile and half. Mar. Then shall we hear their larum, and they ours.

from hence,

Now, Mars, I pr'ythee make us quick in work:
That we with smoking swords may march
[blast.
To help our fielded friends!-Come, blow thy
They sound a parley. Enter, on the walls, some
SENATORS, and Others.

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;
[Other Alarums.
There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes
Amongst your cloven army.
Mar.
O, they are at it!!
Lart. Their noise be our instruction.-Lad-
ders, ho!

The Volces enter, and pass over the stage. Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city.

Now put your shields before your hearts, and
fight
[brave Titus:
With hearts more proof than shields.-Advance,
They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,
Which makes me sweat with wrath.-Come
on, my fellows:

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volce,
And he shall feel mine edge.

Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting.
The Romans are beaten back to their trenches.
Re-enter MARCIUS.

Mar. All the contagion of the south light on
you,
[and plagues
You shames of Rome! you herd of, -Boils
Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorr'd
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
From slaves that apes would beat? Pluto and
hell!

All hurt behind; backs red and faces pale
With flight and argued fear! Mend, and
charge home,

Or, by the tires of heaven, I'll leave the foe,
And make my wars on you: look to't: Come on;
If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their
wives,

As they us to our trenches followed.
Another Alarum. The Volces and Romans re-
enter, and the fight is renewed. The Volces
retire into Corioli, and MARCIUS follows them
to the gutes.

So, now the gates are ope:-Now prove good
seconds:

'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,
Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.
[He enters the gates, and is shut in
1 Sol. Fool-hardiness; not I.

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their hours

At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them, these base
slaves,

Ere yet the fight be done, pack up:-Down
with them.-

And hark, what noise the general makes!-
To him:-

There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius,
Piercing our Romans: Then, valiant Titus, take
Convenient numbers to make good the city;
Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will
To help Cominius.
[haste
Lart.
Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent for
A second course of fight.
Mor.
Sir, praise me not:
My work hath not yet warm'd me: Fare you
The blood I drop is rather physical [well,
Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus
I will appear, and fight.
Lart.

Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
Fall deep in love with thee; and her great

charms

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May give you thankful sacrifice !-Thy news?
Mess. The citizens of Corioli have issued,
And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:
I saw our party to their trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Com.

Though thou speak'st truth,
Methinks thou speak'st not well. How long
Mess. Above an hour, my lord. [is't since?
Com. "Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their
deaths:
How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour,
And bring thy news so late?
Mess.

Spies of the Volces
Held me in a chase, that I was forc'd to wheel
Three or four miles about; else had I, sir,
Half an hour since brought my report.
Enter MARCIUS.

Who's yonder,
Com.
That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods!
He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have
Before time seen him thus.
Mar.

Come I too late? Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor,

More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue,
From every meaner man's.

Mar.

Come I too late?
Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of
[others,
But mantled in your own.
O! let me clip you
Mar.
In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart
As merry, as when our nuptial day was done,
And tapers burn'd to bedward.
Com.

Flower of warriors,

How is't with Titus Lartius?
Mar. As with a man busied about decrees:
Condemning some to death, and some to exile;
Ransoming him, or pitying, threat'ning the
other;

Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
To let him slip at will.

Com.

Where is that slave,

They have placed their men of trust?
Com.
As I guess, Marcins,
Their bands in the vaward are the Antiates,
Of their best trust: o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.
Mar.
I do beseech you,

By all the battles wherein we have fought,
By the blood we have shed together, by the

VOWS

We have made to endure friends, that you
directly

Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates:
And that you not delay the present; but,
Filling the air with swords advanc'd, and darts,
We prove this very hour.

Com.
Though I could wish
You were conducted to a gentle bath,
And balms applied to you, yet dare I never
Deny your asking; take your choice of those
That best can aid your action.
Mar.
Those are they
That most are willing:-If any such be here
(As it were sin to doubt), that love is painting
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Lesser his person than an ill report;
If any think, brave death outweighs bad life,
And that his country's dearer than himself;
Let him, alone, or so many, so minded,
Wave thus [waving his hand, to express his
disposition,

And follow Marcius.

[They all shout, and wave their swords; take
him up in their arms, and cast up their caps.
O me, alone! Make you a sword of me?
If these shows be not outward, which of you
But is four Volces? None of you but is
Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
Though thanks to all, must I select from all:
the rest

Shall bear the business in some other fight,
As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march,
And four shall quickly draw out my command,
Which men are best inclin'd.

Com.
March on, my fellows:
Make good this ostentation, and you shall
Divide in all with us.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The Gates of Corioli. TITUS LARTIUSs, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with a drum and trumpet toward Cominius and Caius Marcius, enters with a Lieutenant, a Party of Soldiers, and a Scout.

Lart. So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,

As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch

Which told me they had beat you to your Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve
[trenches? For a short holding: If we lose the field,
Where is he? Call him hither.
Let him alone, We cannot keep the town.
Mar.
Fear not our care, sir.
Lieu.
He did inform the truth: But for our gentlemen,
Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon us.-
The common file (A plague!-Tribunes for
Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct
them!)
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.

The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did
From rascals worse than they.

Com.

[budge

us.

But how prevail'd you? A field of Battle beeween the Roman and the Vol

Mar. Will the time serve to tell? I do not
think-

Where is the enemy? Are you lords o' the field;
If not, why cease you till you are so?
Marcius.
Com.
We have at disadvantage fought, and did
Retire, to win our purpose. [which side
Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on

cian Camps.

Alarum. Enter MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS.
Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do
[hate thes
Worse than a promise-breaker.
We hate alike;
Auf.
Not Africk owns a serpent, I abhor
More than thy fame and envy: Fix thy foot.

Mar. Let the first budger die the other's And stand upon my common part with those slave, That have beheld the doing.

And the gods doom him after! Auf.

Halloo me like a hare.

If I fly, Marcius,

Mar. Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, [blood, And made what work I pleas'd; Tis not my Wherein thou seest 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, Thou should'st not scape me here.

[They fight, and certain Volces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. Officious, and not valiant--you have sham'd me In your condemned seconds.

[Exeunt fighting, driven in by MARCIUS. SCENE IX. The Roman Camp. Alarum. A 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 ill 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,
[nours,
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine ho-
Shallsay, against their hearts-We thank the gods,

Our Rome hath such a soldier!

Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast,
Having fully dined before.

[A long flourish. They all cry, Marcius Marcins! cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare. Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane, shall Never sound more! When drums and trumpets I'the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be Made all of false-fac'd soothing: When steel grows

Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars! No more, I say;
For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,
Or foil'd some debile wretch,-which, without
note,

Here's many else have done,-you shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;
As if I lov'd my little should be dieted
In praises sauc'd with lies.
Com.

Too modest are you; More cruel to your good report, than grateful To us that give you truly: by your patience, If'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you (Like one that means his proper arm) in ma(known,

nacles,

Then reason safely with you.-Therefore, be it
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which
My noble steed, known to the Camp, I give him.
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
Bear the addition nobly ever!

CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and Drums. All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus! Cor. I will go wash;

Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his Power, from the And when my face is fair, yon shall perceive

pursuit.

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(In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done), before our army, hear me.
Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they
To hear themselves remember'd. [smart
Com.
Should they not,
Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses
(Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store),
of all

The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at
Your only choice.
Mar.

I thank you, general:
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;

Whether I blush, or no: How beit, I thank you:

I mean to stride your steed; and, at all times,
To undercrest your good addition,
To the fairness of my power.

Com.

So, to our tent: Where, ere we do repose us, we will write To Rome of our success,-You, Titus Lartius, Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome The best with whom we may articulate For their own good, and ours. Lart. I shall, my lord Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I that now Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg Of my lord general.

Com.

Take it 'tis yours.-What is't? Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli, At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly: He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; But then Aufidius was within my view, And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you To give my poor host freedom. Com. O, well begg'd! Were he the butcher of my son, he should Be free, as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. Lart. Martius, his name? Cor.

By Jupiter, forgot:I am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.Have we no wine here?

Com.

Go we to our tent: The blood upon thy visage dries; 'tis time It should be look'd to; come.

[Exeunt.

SCENE X. The Camp of the Volces.

A Flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS bloody, with two or three Soldiers. Auf. The town is ta'en.

1 Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good con- and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if Auf. Condition?--[dition. you take it as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud!

I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Peing a Voice, be that I am.--Condition!-
What good condition can a treaty find
I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat

me;

And would'st 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
Hath not that honour in't, it had; for where
I thought to crush him in an equal force
(True sword to sword), I'll potch at him some
Or wrath, or craft, may get him. [way;
1 Sol.
He's the devil.
Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: My valour's
poison'd,

With only suffering stain by him; for him
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 his 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. [Exeunt

Act Second.

SCENE I. Rome. A Publick Place. Enter MENENIUS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS. Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news Bru. Good or bad? [to-night. Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius. [friends. Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their Men. 'Pray you, who does the wolf love? Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baas 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 Trib. Well, sir.

Men. In what enormity is Marcins poor, that you two have not in abundance?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored Sic. Especially, in pride. [with all.

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 Trib. Why, how are we censured? Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry?

Both Trib. 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,

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 wonderous 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 Bru. What then, sir? [you could! 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 humourous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a 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, touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face 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 tell, you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it, that I am known well enough too? what harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too? [enough.

Bru. Come, sir, come, we know you well Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are ambition for poor knaves' caps and legs; you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, in hearing a cause between an orangewife and a fosset-seller; and then rejourn the controversy of three-pence to a second day of audience.-When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the colick, you make faces like mummers; set up the bloody flag against all patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing: all the peace you make in their cause, is, calling both the parties knaves: You are a pair of strange ones.

Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table, than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.

Men. Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave, as to stuff a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion; though peradventure, some of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. Good e'en to your worships; more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.

[BRU. and SIC. retire to the back of the Scene. Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA, &c. How now, my as fair as noble ladies (and the

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