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DIUS'S Fuction.

Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what | Enter Thrce or Four CONSPIRATORS of Atri mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a Most welcome! male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all that 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.

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Welcome!

[A flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Antium.-A Public Place. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse, The city ports + by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants.

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1 Con. How is it with our general?
Auf. Even so,

As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.

2 Con. Most noble Sir,

If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.

Auf. Sir, I cannot tell :

We must proceed, as we do find the people.

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

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ten'd,

He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free,

3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf. That I would have spoke of: Being banish'd 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 project to accomplish, My best and freshest meu ; serv'd his designmen ́s In mine own person; holp to reap the fame, Which he did end all his; and took some pride To do myself this wrong; till, at the last, I seem'd his follower, not partner; and He wag'd me with his countenance, † as if I had been mercenary.

1 Con. So he did, my lord:

The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory,

Auf. There was it ;

For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: Therefore shall he die
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and Trumpets sound, with great
shouts of the People.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools, whose children he hath slain, their base throats

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Auf. Say no more: Here come the lords.

Enter the LORDS of the City.
Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf. I have not deserv'd it:

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus d
What I have written to you?
Lords. We have.

1 Lord. And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy tines: 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 no excuse.

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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,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o'the senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor!-How now?
Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Cor. Marcius!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: Dost thou
think

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

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd 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 whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars?

Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,-
Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more. +

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 judgments, my grave
lords,

Must give this cur the lie and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd on him that
must bear

My beating to his grave,) shall join to thrust
The lie unto him.

1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak.
Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces: men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound!
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,

• Drops of tears.

No more than a boy of tears.

That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your voices in Corioli:
Alone I did it.-Boy!

Auf. why, noble lords,

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Will you be put 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 killed my son :-my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcius;---He killed my father.

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

Shall have judicious+ hearing.—Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.

Cor. Oh! 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.

1 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,

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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.
NUS. A dead March sounded.
Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLA.

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ABOUT the middle of February, A.U.C. 709, a riotous festival sacred to Pan, and called Lupercalia, was held in honour of Cesar, when the regal crown was offered him by Antony. In the middle of the following March he was assassinated. November 27, 710, the Triumvirs, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavius, met at a small island tormed by the river Rhenus, near Bononia, and there agreed upon the cruel proscription introduced in Act IV.---In 711, Brutus and Cassius were totally defeated at Philippi.---Shakspeare appears to have produced this play about the year 1607: one, upon the same subject, had been written by a young Scotch Nobleman, the Earl of Sterline; and in many passages of each, a strong similarity may be traced :---this was probably occasioned by both authors drawing their materials from the same source.---A Latin play on this subject, by Dr. Eedes, of Oxford, who is enumerated amongst the best tragic authors of that æra, was published in 1582.---Dr. Johnson says of this tragedy :---" Many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement of Brutus and Cassius are universally celebrated, but I have never been strongly agitated in perusing it, and think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakspeare's plays: his adherence to tae real story, and to Rʊman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of his genius."

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SCENE: the first three acts at Rome: afterwards at an Island near Mutina, at Sardis; and near

Philippi.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.-Rome.-A Street.

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters, but with awl. I am,

Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they

CITIZENS.

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Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day, without the sign

are in great danger, I recover them. As proper inen as ever trod upon neats-leather, have gone get upon my handy-work.

Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art thou?
1 Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on ?—
You, Sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman? I am but, as you would say, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer he directly.

2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad soals.

Mar. What trade, thou knave! thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me yet, if you be out, Sir, 1 can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Meud me, thou saucy fellow ?

2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

Flar. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, Sh, we make holiday to see Cesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings
he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his charict wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless

things?

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Poinpey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your armis, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome :
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores ?

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