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I pr'ythee noble friend, home to thy house;
Leave us to cure this cause.
Men.
For 'tis a sore upon us,
You cannot tent yourself: Begone, 'beseech you.
Com. Come, sir, along with us.

Cor. I would they were barbarians (as they are, Though in Rome litter'd,) not Romans (as they are not,

Though calv'd i'the porch o'the Capitol,)—
Men.

Be gone;

Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
One time will owe another.
Cur.

I could beat forty of them.
Men.

On fair ground,

I could myself

Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two tribunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic;
And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
Against a falling fabric.-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 whether my old wit be in request
With those that have but little; this must be patch'd
With cloth of any colour.
Com.

Nav, come away. [Exeunt Cor. Com. and others. 1 Pat. 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 his 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.
Here's goodly work!

2 Pat.

[A noise within.

I would they were a-bed!

Men. I would they were in Tyber!-What, the

vengeance,

Could he not speak them fair?

Re-enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the Rabble. 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 trial Than the severity of the public power, Which he so sets at nought.

I

Consul?-what consul?

He a consul?

Men. The consul Coriolanus.
Bru.

Cit. No, no, no, no, no.

Men. If by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good

people,

may be heard, I'd crave a word or two; The which shall turn to you no further harm, Than so much loss of time.

Sic.

Speak briefly then;

For we are peremptory to despatch
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.
That our renown'd Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Now the good gods forbid,

Sic. He's a disease, that must be cut away. Men. O, he's a limb, that has but a disease; Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. 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 dropp'd 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 the end o'the world. Sic. This is clean kam. Bru. Merely awry: when he did love his country, It honour'd him. Men.

The service of the foot Being once gangrén'd, is it 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.

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Have we not had a taste of his obedience? Our ædiles smote? ourselves resisted?-Come:Men. Consider this ;-He has been bred i'the 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, [Several speak together. It is the humane way: the other course Sir,-Will prove too bloody; and the end of it Peace. Unknown to the beginning.

I Cit. He shall well know, The noble tribunes are the people's mouths, And we their hands.

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Let me desire your company. [To the Senators.]| That they combine not there.

He must come, Or what is worst will follow. 1 Sen.

Pray you, let's to him. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A room in Coriolanus's house. Enter Coriolanus, and Patricians.

Cor. Let them pull all about mine ears; present

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Let go.

Cor.

Men.

Tush, tush!
A good demand.
Vol. If it be honour, in your wars, to seem
The same you are not, (which for your best ends,
That it shall hold companionship in peace
You adopt your policy,) how is it less, or worse,
With honour, as in war; since that to both
It stands in like request?

Cor.
Why force you this?
Vol. Because that now it lies you on to speak
To the people; not by your own instruction,
Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you to,
But with such words that are but roted in
Your tongue, though but 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 am in this,
Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you will rather show our general lowts
How you can frown, than spend a fawn upon them,
For the inheritance of their loves, and safeguard
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,

Vol. You might have been enough the man you Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;

are,

With striving less to be so: Lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions, if
You had not show'd them how you were dispos'd,
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.
Cor.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Let them hang.

Enter Menenius, and Senators.

And thus far having stretch'd it (here be with them,7
Thy knee bussing the stones (for in such business
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
More learned than the ears,) waving thy head,
Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
That humble, as the ripest mulberry,
Now 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,

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough, Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim,

something too rough; In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame You must return and mend it. Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far 1 Sen. There's no remedy; As thou hast power, and person. Unless, by not so doing, our good city Men. This but done, Cleave in the midst, and perish. Even 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,

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 the heard, but that
The violent fit o'the time craves it as physic

For the whole state, I would put mine armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor. What must I do?
Men.
Cor.

What then? what then?

Return to the tribunes.

Well,
Men.
Repent what you have spoke.
Cor. For them?-I cannot do it to the gods;
Must I then do't to them?
Vol.

You are too absolute;
Though therein you can never be too noble,
But when extremities speak. I have heard you say
Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,
'the war do grow together: Grant that, and tell me
In peace, what each of them by th' other lose,
(2) Rank.
(3) Urge.
(5) Common clowns.

(1) Wonder. (4) Subdue.

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This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it, And throw it against the wind.-To the marketplace:

You have put me now to such a part, which never I shall discharge to the life.

Com. Come, come, we'll prompt you. Vol. Ipr'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 has not done before.

Cor.

Well, I must do't: Away, my disposition, and possess me Some harlot's spirit! My throat of war be turn'd, Which quired with my drum, into a pipe Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves Tent' in my cheeks; and school-boys' tears take up The glasses of my sight! A beggar's tongue Make motion through my lips; and my arm'd knees, Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his That hath receiv'd an alms!-I will not do't: Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth, And, by my body's action, teach my mind 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 thon list. Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me; But owe thy pride thyself.

Cor.
Pray, be content;
Mother, I am 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'the way of flattery, further.

Vol.
Do your will. [Exit.
Com. Away, the tribunes do attend you: arm

yourself

To answer mildly; for they are 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 III.-The same. The Forum. Enter Sicinius and Brutus.

Bru. In this point charge him home, that he af

fects

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Edi.

I have.

Sic. Assemble presently the people hither: And when they hear me say, It shall be so l'the right and strength o'the 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'the truth o'the cause.
JEdi.
I shall inform them.
Bru. And when such time they have begun to cry,
Let them not cease, but with a din confus'd
Enforce the present execution

Of what we chance to sentence.
Jdi.
Very well.
Sic. Make them be strong, and ready for this hint,
When we shall hap to giv't them.
Bru.

Go about it.[Exit Edile. Put him to choler straight: He hath been us'd Ever to conquer, and to have his worth

Of contradiction: Being once chaf'd, he cannot Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks What's in his heart; and that is there, which looks With us to break his neck.

Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, Senators, and Patricians.

Sic. Well, here he comes.
Men.
Calmly, I do beseech you.
Cor. Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece
Will bear the knave' by the volume.-The honour'd
gods

Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice
Supplied with worthy men! plant love among us!
Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,
And not our streets with war!
1 Sen.

Men. A noble wish.

Amen, amen!

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I do demand,
If you submit you to the people's 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 show
Like graves i'the holy church-yard.

Cor.

Scars to move laughter only.

Men.

Scratches with briars.

Consider further, That when he speaks not like a citizen, You find him like a soldier: Do not take His rougher accents 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 pass'd for consul with full voice,
I am so dishonour'd, that the very hour
You take it off again?

(4) Will bear being called a knave. (5) Injure.

Sic.

Answer to us.

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

Bru. There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd,

Sic. We charge you, that you have contriv'd to As enemy to the people, and his country:

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Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, flaying; 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 lies) from time to time
Envied against the people, seeking means
To pluck away their power; as now at last
Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
That do distribute it; In the name o'the people,
And in the power of us the tribunes, we,
Even from this instant, banish him our city;
In peril of precipitation

From off the rock Tarpeian, never more

To enter our Rome gates: I'the people's name,
I say, it shall be so.

Cit.

It shall be so.

It shall be so; let him away: he's banish'd,
And so it shall be.

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 show from Rome, Her enemies' marks upon nie. I do love

6

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 loins; then if I would Speak that

Sic.

We know your drift: Speak what?

(1) Of long standing.
(3) Shewed hatred.
(5) For. (6) Value.

(2) Grasped. (4) Not only.

It shall be so.

1 Cit.

It shall be so, it shall be so.
Cor. You common cry of curs! whose breath
I hate

As reek o'the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcases 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 not reservation of yourselves
(Still your own foes,) deliver you, as most
Abated captives, to some nation
That won you without blows! Despising,
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere.

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, Menenius, Senators and Patricians. Edi. The people's enemy is gone, is gone! Cit. Our enemy's banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo!

[The People shout, and throw up their caps. Sic. Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, As he hath follow'd you, with all despite ; Give him deserv'd vexation. Let a guard Attend us through the city.

Cit. Come, come, let us see him out at gates,

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SCENE_I.-The same. Before a gate of the city. Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, and several young Patricians.

Cor. Come, leave your tears; a brief farewell:the beast10

With many heads butts me away.-Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage you were us'd
To say, extremity was the trier of the spirits;
That common chances common men could bear;
That when the sea was calm, all boats alike
Show'd mastership in floating: fortune's blows,
When most struck home, being gentle wounded

craves

A noble cunning: you were us'd to load me
With precepts, that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.
Vir. O heavens! O heavens !
Cor.
Nay, I pr'ythee, woman,
Vol. Now the red pestilence strike all trades ir
Rome,
And occupations perish!

Cor.

What, what, what. I shall be lov'd when I am lack'd. Nay, mother, Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, If you had been the wife of Hercules, Six of his labours you'd have done, and sav'd Your husband so much sweat.-Cominius, Droop not; adieu:-Farewell, my wife! my mother! I'll do well yet.-Thou old and true Menenius,

(7) Pack. (8) Vapour. (9) Subdued, (10) The government of the people.

Thy tears are salter than a younger man's,
And venemous to thine eyes.-My sometime general,
I have seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld
Heart-hard'ning spectacles; tell these sad women
'Tis fond' to wail inevitable strokes,

As 'tis to laugh at them.-My mother, you wot well,
My hazards still have been your solace: and
Believ't not lightly (though I go alone

Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen

son

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Vol. Ay, fool; is that a shame ?-Note but this, fool.

Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship

Makes fear'd, and talk'd of more than seen,) your To banish him that struck more blows for Rome,
Than thou hast spoken words?
Sic.
O blessed heavens!
Vol. More noble blows, than ever thou wise
words;

Will, or exceed the common, or be caught

With cautelous baits and practice.

Vol.
My first son,
Whither wilt thou go? Take good Ceminius
With thee a while: Determine on some course,
More than a wild exposture to each chance
That starts i'the way before thee.

Cor.

O the gods!

Com. I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee
Where thou shalt rest, that thou may'st hear of us,
And we of thee: so, if the time thrust forth
A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
O'er the vast world, to seek a single man;
And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
I'the absence of the needer.

Cor.
Fare ve well:—
Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full
Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruis'd: bring me but out at gate.-
Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,
Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, coine.
While I remain above the ground, you shall
Hear from me still; and never of me aught
But what is like me formerly.

Men.

That's worthily
As any ear can hear.-Come, let's not weep.-
If I could shake off but one seven years
From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
I'd with thee every foot.

Cor.

Come.

Give me thy hand:

[Exeunt.
SCENE II.-The same. A street near the gale.
Enter Sicinius, Brutus, and an Ædile.
Sic. Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll

no further.

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And for Rome's good.-I'll tell thee what;-Yet

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Take my prayers with you.-
I would the gods had nothing else to do,

[Exeunt Tribunes.
But to confirm my curses! Could I meet them
But once a day, it would unclog my heart
Of what lies heavy to't.
Men.
You have told them home.
And, by my troth, you have cause.
You'll sup

with me?

Vol. Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself,
And so shall starve with feeding.-Come, let's go :
Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do,
In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
Men. Fie, fie, fie!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A highway between Rome and
Antium. Enter a Roman and a Volce, meeling.
Rom. I know you well, and you know me; your
name, I think, is Adrian.

Vol. It is so, sir; truly, I have forgot you.
Rom. I am a Roman; and my services are, as
you are, against them: Know you me yet?
Vol. Nicanor? No.

Rom. The same, sir.

Vol. You had more beard, when I last saw you; but your favour is well appeared by your tongue. What's the news in Rome? I have a note from the

(6) Mean cunning.

(7) Countenance.

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