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. I pr'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 hast 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
Tent1 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. Čome 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 thou list.
Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me;
But owe2 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.

your

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

yourself

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

I shall inform them.

Of what we chance to sentence.
Edi.
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 knave4 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!

Cor. Shall I be charg'd no further than this pre

sent? Must all determine here?

Sic.

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 churchyard.

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.

take

From Rome all season'd' office, and to wind

Yourself into a power tyrannical;

For which, you are a traitor to the people. Cor. How! Traitor?

Men.

Nay; temperately: Your promise.
Cor. The fires i'the lowest hell fold in the people!
Call me their traitor?-Thou injurious tribune!
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
In thy hands clutch'd2 as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say,
Thou liest, unto thee, with a voice as free
As I do pray the gods.

Sic.
Mark you this, people?
Cit. To the rock with him; to the rock with him!
Sic.
Peace.

We need not put new matter to his charge:
What you have seen him do, and heard him speak,
Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,
Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying
Those whose great power must try him; even this,
So criminal, and in such capital kind,
Deserves the extremest death.

It shall be so. Cit.

It shall be so, it shall be so.

Cor. You common cry of curs! whose breath
I hate

As reeks 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!

Know

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 not4 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 from5 Rome, Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love My country's good, with a respect more tender, More holy, and profound, than mine own life, My dear wife's estimate,6 her womb's increase, And treasure of my loins; then if I would Speak that

Sic.

We know your drift: Speak what?

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

SCENE 1.-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 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,

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 venomous 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
Believe't not lightly (though I go alone

Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen

son

Will, or exceed the common, or be caught

With cautelous2 baits and practice.
Vol.
My first son,
Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
With thee a while: Determine on some course,
More than a wild exposture4 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 ye 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,5 when I am forth, Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. 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.

Give me thy hand :

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

no further.

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, meeting. 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