When he shall come to his account, he knows not
What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
And so he thinks, and is no less apparent

To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly,
And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state;
Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
As draw his sword: yet he hath left undone
That, which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
Whene'er we come to our account.

Lieu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry
Rome?

Auf. All places yield to him ere he sits down;
And the nobility of Rome are his:

The senators, and patricians, love him too:
The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people.
Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty

To expel him thence. I think, he'll be to Rome,
As is the osprey' to the fish, who takes it
By sovereignty of nature.

First he was

A noble servant to them; but he could not
Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride,
Which out of daily fortune ever taints

The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
Not to be other than one thing, not moving

From the casque to the cushion, but commanding

peace

As is the osprey-] Osprey, a kind of eagle, ossifraga.
whether 'twas pride,

Which out of daily fortune ever taints

The happy man; whether, &c.] Aufidius assigns three probable reasons of the miscarriage of Coriolanus; pride, which easily follows an uninterrupted train of success; unskilfulness to regulate the consequences of his own victories; a stubborn uniformity of nature, which could not make the proper transition from the casque or helmet to the cushion or chair of civil authority; but acted with the same despotism in peace as in war.

Do you hear?

one time he did call me by my name:

d acquaintance, and the drops ⚫bled together. Coriolanus answer to: forbad all names; of nothing, titleless,

r'd himself a name i'the fire

me.

Why, so; you have made good work:
es that have rack'd' for Rome,
heap: A noble memory!2

1 him, how royal 'twas to pardon
expected: He replied,

tion of a state

had punish'd.

Very well:

Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controll'd the war; but, one of these,
(As he hath spices of them all, not all,'
For I dare so far free him,) made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish'd: But he has a merit,
To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
Lie in the interpretation of the time:

And power, unto itself most commendable,
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair

To extol what it hath done.

One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do

fail.

Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Rome. A publick Place.

Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and Others.

Men. No, I'll not go: you hear, what he hath said, Which was sometime his general; who lov'd him In a most dear particular. He call'd me, father: But what o'that? Go, you that banish'd him, A mile before his tent fall down, and kneel The way into his mercy: Nay, if he coy'd'

"As he hath spices of them all, not all,] i. e. not all complete, not all in their full extent.

he has a merit,

To choke it in the utterance.] He has a merit, for no other purpose than to destroy it by boasting it.

9

coy'd-] i. e. condescended unwillingly, with reserve.

To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
Com. He would not seem to know me.

Men.

Do you hear? Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name: I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops That we have bled together. Coriolanus He would not answer to: forbad all names; He was a kind of nothing, titleless, Till he had forg'd himself a name i'the fire Of burning Rome.

Men.

Why, so; you have made good work: A pair of tribunes that have rack'd' for Rome, To make coals cheap: A noble memory!" Com. I minded him, how royal 'twas to pardon When it was less expected: He replied,

It was a bare petition of a state

To one whom they had punish'd.

Men.

Could he say less?

Very well:

Com. I offer'd to awaken his regard

For his private friends: His answer to me was,
He could not stay to pick them in a pile

Of noisome, musty chaff: He said, 'twas folly,
For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt,
And still to nose the offence.

For one poor grain

Men. Or two? I am one of those; his mother, wife, His child, and this brave fellow too, we are the

grains:

You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt
Above the moon: We must be burnt for you.
Sic. Nay, pray, be patient: If you refuse your aid
In this so never-heeded help, yet do not

Upbraid us with our distress. But, sure, if you

actions.

that have rack'd

-] To rack means to harass by ex

memory!] for memorial.