Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my

heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forc'd to scold. Your judgements, my grave

lords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion (Who wears my stripes impressid on him; that must

bear My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust The lie unto him. ) Lord.

Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd

your

Volces in Corioli:
Alone I did it.-Boy!
Auf

Why, noble lords,

in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?

Con. Let him die for't. [Several speak at once.

Cit. [speaking promiscuously. ] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He kill'd my son ;-my daughter; -He kill'd my cousin Marcus ;—He kill'd my father.

2 Lord. Peace, ho;- no outrage; - peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth 69. His last offence to us

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Will you

be put

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Shall have judicious hearing.–Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
Cor.

O, that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!
Auf.

Insolent villain! Con, Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. (Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and kill

Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius.

stands on him. Lords.

Hold, hold, hold, hold. Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. i Lord.

o Tullus,2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will

weep. 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be

quiet; Put up your swords.

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage, Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure Your heaviest censure. 1 Lord.

Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most noble corse, that ever herald Did follow to his urn.

:

2 Lord.

His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.
Auf.

My rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow.—Take him up:-
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.-
Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus.

A dead march sounded.

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ANNOTATIONS

V PON

CORIOLANUS.

1-WIth our pikes, ere we become rakes:) It was Shakspeare's design to make this fellow quibble all the way. But time, who has done greater things, has here stifled a miserable joke; which was then the same as if it had been now wrote, Let us now revenge this with forks, ere we become rakes: for pikes then signified the same as forks do now. So Jewel in his own translation of his Apology, turns Christianos ad furcas condemnare, to—To condemn Christians to the pikes. But the Oxford editor, without knowing any thing of this, has with great sagacity found out the joke, and reads, on his own authority, pitch-forks.

WARBURTON.

It is plain that, in our author's time, we had the proverb, as lean us a rake. Of this proverb the original is obscure. Ruke now signifies a dissolute man, man worn out with disease and debauchery. But the signification is, I think, much more modern than the

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