serve 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 moon, were she earthly, no nobler,) whither do you follow your eyes so fast?

Vol. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go.

Men. Ha! Marcius coming home?

Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.

Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee:Hoo! Marcius coming home?

Two Ladies. Nay, 'tis true.

Vol. Look, here's a letter from him; the state hath another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one at home for you.

Men. I will make my very house reel to-night: -A letter for me?

Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it. Men. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutick, and, to this preservative,

1

of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.

Vir. O, no, no, no.

Vol. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't. Men. So do I too, if it be not too much :-Brings 'a victory in his pocket? - The wounds become him.

Vol. On's brows, Menenius: he comes the third time home with the oaken garland.

Men. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly ?

Vol. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.

Men. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: an he had staid by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?

Vol. Good ladies, let's go :-Yes, yes, yes : the senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.

Val. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. Men. Wondrous? ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.

Vir. The gods grant them true!
Vol. True? pow, wow.

Men. True? I'll be sworn they are true :-Where is he wounded?-God save your good worships! [To the Tribunes, who come forward.] Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud.Where is he wounded?

Vol. I' the shoulder, and i' the left arm: There 2 Fully informed.

will be large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin, seven hurts i' the body.

Men. One in the neck, and two in the thigh,there's nine that I know.

Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twentyfive wounds upon him.

Men. Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave: [A Shout, and Flourish.] Hark! the trumpets.

Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears; Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; Which being advanc'd, declines; and then men die.

A Sennet.3 Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken Garland; with Captains, Soldiers and a Herald.

Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight Within Corioli' gates: where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these In honour follows, Coriolanus :

Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [Flourish. All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! Cor. No more of this, it does offend my heart;

Pray now, no more.

Com.

Cor.

Look, sir, your mother,

0!

[Kneels.

You have, I know, petition'd all the gods

For my prosperity.

1

Vol.

Nay, my good soldier, up;

My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and

By deed-achieving honour newly nam'd,

What is it? Coriolanus, must I call thee?

But O, thy wife.

Cor.

My gracious 4 silence, hail!

Would'st thou have laugh'd, had I come coffin'd

home,

That weep'st to see me triumph ? Ah, my dear,

Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,

And mothers that lack sons.

Men.

Now the gods crown thee! Cor. And live you yet?-O my sweet lady, pardon.. [TO VALERIA,

Vol. I know not where to turn :-0 welcome home;

And welcome, general;-And you are welcome all. Men. A hundred thousand welcomes: I could weep,

And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy: Wel

come:

A curse begin at very root of his heart,
That is not glad to see thee!-You are three,

That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men,
We have some old crab-trees here at home, that will

not

Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:

We call a nettle, but a nettle; and

The faults of fools, but folly.

Com.

Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.

Ever right.

Her. Give way there, and go on.

Cor.

Your hand, and yours;

[To his Wife and Mother.

Ere in our own house I do shade my head,

The good patricians must be visited;

From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings,

But with them change of honours.

Vol.

To see inherited my very wishes,

I have lived

And the buildings of my fancy: only there

Is one thing wanting, which I doubt not, but

Our Rome will cast upon thee.

Cor.

Know, good mother,

I had rather be their servant in my way,
Than sway with them in theirs.

Com.

On, to the Capitol. [Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. The Tribunes remain.

Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights

Are spectacled to see him: Your pratling nurse
Into a raptures lets her baby cry,

While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins
Her richest lockram' 'bout her reechy & neck,
Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks,

windows,

Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'd
With variable complexions; all agreeing
In earnestness to see him: seld9-shown flamens
Do press among the popular throngs, and puff