demned: 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.

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

1st Gua. 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?

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 standst 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 father Menenius does! O, my son, my son! thou art preparing fire for us: look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to thee: but being assured none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out of your gates with sighs: and conjure thee to pardon Rome and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here:-this, who like a block hath denied my access to thee. Cor. Away!

Men. How! away?

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 loved 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 beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'stAuf. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. 1st Gua. Now, sir, is your name Menenius? 2nd Gua. "Tis a spell, you see, of much power. You know the way home again.

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

; 2nd Gua. 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.

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

I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace.-Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For that, "Forgive our Romans.”—O, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip
Hath virgined it e'er since.-You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted! Sink, my knee, i' the earth:
Of thy deep duty more impression shew
Than that of common sons.

Or if you'd ask, remember this before,—
The things I have forsworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.

You have said you will not grant us anything:
For we have nothing else to ask but that
Which you deny already. Yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark: for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.—Your re-
quest?

Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our

raiment

And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and

sorrow:

Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods; which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy. For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish which side should win: for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
And bear the palm for having bravely shed

Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,

I

purpose not to wait on fortune till

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to shew a noble grace to both parts

Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread
(Trust to 't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

As poisonous of your honour :-no; our suit
Is that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say,
"This mercy we have shewed;" the
Romans,
"This we received;" and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry,
"Be blessed
For making up this peace!"-Thou know'st, great
son,

The end of war's uncertain: but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ: "The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorred."-Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak
you:

He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the
world

More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate

Like one i' the stocks! Thou hast never in thy life
Shewed thy dear mother any courtesy ;
When she (poor hen !), fond of no second brood,
Has clucked thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee
That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end:
This is the last. So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold us :
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,

[Holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome: But for your son,-believe it, O believe it, Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, If not most mortal to him. But let it come.Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in my stead, would you have heard A mother less or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was moved withal.

Sic. Is 't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery: he sits in his state as a thing made for Alexander: what he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.

Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger: that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire: Where have you lurked, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you!

[Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums

beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again.

I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth, of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full of tribunes such as you,

A sea and land full. You have prayed well to-day:
This morning for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit.—Hark how they joy!
[Shouting and music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tidings:
next,

Accept my thankfulness.

Mess. Sir, we have all
Great cause to give great thanks.
Sic. They are near the city?
Mess. Almost at point to enter.
Sic.
We will meet them,
And help the joy.

[Going.

Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Patricians, and People. They pass over the stage. 1st Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, And make triumphant fires: strew flowers before them:

Unshout the noise that banished Marcius:
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother:
Cry, Welcome, ladies, welcome!

All. Welcome, ladies! welcome!
[A flourish with drums and trumpets.—Exeunt.

3rd Con. The people will remain uncertain whilst 'Twixt you there 's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

Auf.

I know it:

And my pretext to strike at him admits

A good construction. I raised him, and I pawned Mine honour for his truth: who being so heightened,

He watered his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and to this end
He bowed his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3rd Con. Sir, his stoutness

When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf. That I would have spoken of:-
Being banished for 't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat. I took him:
Made him joint servant with me: gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men: served his design-

1st Lord. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think Might have found easy fines: but there to end Where he was to begin, and give away The benefit of our levies, answering us With our own charge; making a treaty where There was a yielding: this admits of no excuse. Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him.

Enter CORIOLANUS, with drums and colours; a crowd of Citizens with him.

Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier:
No more infected with my country's love
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage led your wars even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought
home

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates
Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.

I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stolen name
Coriolanus in Corioli?-

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betrayed your business, and given up
For certain drops of salt your city Rome
(I say your city) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk: never admitting
Counsel o' the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roared away your victory,
That pages blushed at him, and men of heart
Looked wondering each at other.