Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy. Com. Who's yonder,

1 Sol. Look, sir!

'Lart. 'Tis Marcius:

Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods!
He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have
Before-time seen him thus.

[They fight, and all enter the city. Mar. Come I too late?

SCENE V. Within the town. A street.
Enter certain Romans, with spoils.

1 Rom. This will I carry to Rome.

2 Rom. And I this.

And hark, what noise the general makes! To him!
There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius,
Piercing our Romans. Then, valiant Titus, take
Convenient numbers to make good the city;
Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
To help Cominius.

Lart. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;

Thy exercise bath been too violent for

A second course of fight.

Mar. Sir, praise me not:

My work hath not yet warm'd me. Fare you well!
The blood I drop is rather physical,

Than dangerous to me. To Aufidius thus

I will appear, and fight.

Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune,

Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be thy page!

Mar. Thy friend no less,

Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell!
Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius!

[Exit Marcius.

Go, sound thy trumpet in the market- place;
Call thither all the officers of the town,
Where they shall know our mind: away! [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. -Near the camp of Cominius.
Enter COMINIUS and forces, retreating.

Com. Breathe you, my friends; well fought: we are

come off

Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,
Nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs,

We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck
By interims, and conveying gusts, we have heard
The charges of our friends. The Roman gods
Lead their successes as we wish our own;

That both our powers, with smiling fronts encount-
ering,

Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor, More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue From every meaner man's.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
But mantled in your own.
Mar. O! let me clip you

In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart
As merry, as when our nuptial day was done,
And tapers burn'd to bedward.

Com. Flower of warriors,
How is't with Titus Lartius?

Mar. As with a man busied about decrees:
Condemning some to death, and some to exile;
Ransoming him, or pitying, threat'ning the other;
Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
To let him slip at will.

Com. Where is that slave,

Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?
Where is he? Call him hither.

Mar. Let him alone,

He did inform the truth: but, for our gentlemen,
The common file, ( A plague! — Tribunes for them!)
The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge
From rascals worse than they.

Com. But how prevail'd you?

Mar. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think-
Where is the enemy? Are you lords o'the field?
If not, why cease you till you are so?
Com. Marcius,

We have at disadvantage fought, and did
Retire, to win our purpose.

Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on which
side

They have plac'd their men of trust?
Com. As I guess, Marcius,

Their bands in the vaward are the Antiates,
Of their best trust: o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.
Mar. I do beseech you,

By all the battles wherein we have fought,
By the blood we have shed together, by the vows
We have made to endure friends, that you directly
Set me against Aufidius, and his Antiates,
And that you not delay the present: but,
Filling the air with swords advanc'd, and darts,
We prove this very hour.

Com. Though I could wish

You were conducted to a gentle bath,
And balms applied to you, yet dare I never

SCENE IX. - The Roman camp. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter at one side, COMINIUS, and Romans; at the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf, and other

Romans.
Com. If should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
Thou'lt not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it,
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles;
Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
I'the end, admire; where ladies shall be frighted,

Wave thus, [Waving his hand.] to express his dis- And, gladly qua'd, hear more; where the dull triposition,

bunes,

That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, Shall say against their hearts: We thank the gods, [They all shout, and wave their swords ; Our Rome hath such a soldier! in their arms, and cast

Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast,
Having fully din'd before.

Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the
pursuit.

Lart. general,

Here is the steed, we the caparison:
Hadst thou beheld-

Mar. Pray now, no more: my mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she does praise me, grieves me. I have done,
As you have done; that's what I can; induc'd
As you have been; that's for my country:
He, that has but effected his good will,
Hath overta'en mine act.

Com. You shall not be

The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
The value of her own: 'twere a concealment
Worse, than a theft, no less, than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spice and top of praises vouch'd,
Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you,
(In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done,) before our army hear me.
Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
To hear themselves remember'd.

Com. Should they not,

Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And teut themselves with death. Of all the horses,
(Whereof we have ta en good, and good store,) of all
The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth
Before the common distribution, at
Your only choice.

Mar. I thank you, general;

But cannot make my heart consent to take

Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;

And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[Exeunt figthing, driven in by Marcius.

If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you
(Like one that means his proper harm,) in manacles.
Then reason safely with you.-Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.

Bear the addition nobly ever!
[Flourish.
All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!
Cor. I will go wash;

Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there
Against the hospitable canon, would I

Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must
Be hostages for Rome.

1 Sol. Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove:
I pray you,

Trumpets sound, and drums. ('Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither
How the world goes; that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey.

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush, or no. Howbeit, I thank you!
I mean to stride your steed; and, at all times,
To undercrest your good addition,

To the fairness of my power.

Com. So, to our tent:

Where, ere we do repose us, we will write

To Rome of our success.- You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome

The best, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good, and ours.

Lart. I shall, my lord.

Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg Of my lord general.

- What is't?

Com. Take it: 'tis yours..
Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli,

At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly:
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;

But then Aufidius was within my view,

And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor host freedom.

Com. O, well begg'd!

SCENE X. - The camp of the Volces. A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS Auridius, bloody, with two or three soldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. I shall, sir.

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Rome. A public place.
Enter MENENILS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS.

Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news to-night.

Bru. Good, or bad?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Men. Pray you, who does the wolf love?

Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Both Trib. Well, sir.

Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you two have not in abundance?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
Sic. Especially, in pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boasting.

Men. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o'the right-hand file? Do you?

Both Trib. Why, how are we censured? Men. Because you talk of pride now, not be angry?

Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well!

will you

Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: give your disposition the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it

1 Sol. Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Mar

Auf. Condition?

I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot,

Being a Volce, be that I am. - Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find
I'the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me;
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat. By the elements,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He is mine, or I am his. Mine emulation
Iath not that honour in't, it had; for where
I thought to crash him in an equal force,
(True sword to sword,) I'll potch at him some way;
Or wrath, or craft, may get him.

1 Sol. He's the devil.

Auf. Bolder, though not so subtile. My valour's
poison'd,

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick; nor fane, nor Capitol,
Tye prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice,

Men. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, (alias, fools,) as any in Rome.

Sic. Menenius, you are known wel? enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty, and tinderlike, upon too trivial motion: one that converses more with the buttock of the night, than with the forehead of the morning. What I think, I utter;

and spend my malice in my breath, Meeting two such weals-men as you are, (I cannot call you Lycurguses) if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot say, your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables: and though I must be content to bear with those, that say you are reverend grave men; yet they lie deadly, that tell, you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it, that I am known well enough too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too?

Men. So do I too, if it be not too much.-Brings
a victory in his pocket? The wounds become him.
Vol. Ou's brows, Menenius: he comes the third time
home with the oaken garland.
Men. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?
Fol. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together,
but Aufidius got off.

-

Men. And it was time for him too, I'll warrant
him that: an he had staid by him, I would not have
been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and
the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?
Vol. Good ladies, let's go! Yes, yes, yes: the
senate has lettres from the general, wherein he
gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in
this action outdone his former deeds doubly.
Fal. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.
Men. Wondrous? Ay, I warrant you, and not with-
Vir. The gods graat them true!
Vol. True? how, wow.

Bru. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.
Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any
thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and
legs; you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, in
hearing a cause between an orangewife and a fosset-out his true purchasing.
seller; and then rejourn the controversy of three-
pence to a second day of audience. When you are
hearing a matter between party and party, if you
chance to be pinched with the cholic, you make
faces like mummers; set up the bloody flag against
all patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dis-
miss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled
by your hearing all the peace you make in their
cause, is, calling both the parties knaves. You are
a pair of strange ones.

Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table, than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.

-

Men. True? I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? - God save your good worships! [To the Tribunes, who come forward.] Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud.Where is he wounded?

Vol. I'the shoulder, and i'the left arm: there will be large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin, seven hurts i'the body.

Men. One in the neck, and two in the thigh,there's nine, that I know.

Men. Our very priests must become mockers, if Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twentythey shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you five wounds upon him. are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is Men. Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an ene not worth the wagging of your beards; and your my's grave:[4 shout,and flourish.]Hark! the trumpets. beards deserve not so honourable a grave, as to stuff Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears; pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your Which being advanc'd, declines; and then men die. predecessors, since Deucalion; though, peradven-4 Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and ture, some of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. Good e'en to your worships; more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.

[Brutus and Sicinius retire to the back of

the scene.

Enter VOLUMNIA, Virgilia, and VALERIA, etc. How now, my as fair as noble ladies, (and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler,) whither do you follow your eyes so fast?

Vol.HonourableMenenius,my boyMarcius approaches for the love of Juno, let's go. Men. Ha! Marcius coming home?

Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.

Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee: Hoo! Marcius coming home!

Two Ladies. Nay, 'tis true.

Vol. Look, here's a letter from him; the state hath
another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one
at home for you.

Men. I will make my very house reel to-night:
A letter for me?

TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains, Soldiers,

and a Herald.

Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
In honour follows, Coriolanus:
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [Flourish.
4ll. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
Cor. No more of this, it does offend my heart;
Pray now, no more.

Fir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you: I saw it.
Men. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of
seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip
at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in
Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative,
of no better report, than a horse-drench. Is he not
wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.
Fir. O, no, no, no!

Vol. 0, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't.

Com. Look, sir, your mother,-
Cor. O!

You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
For my prosperity.

Vol. Nay, my good soldier, up;
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
By deed-achieving honour newly nam'd,
What is it? Coriolanns, must I call thee?
But O, thy wife—

[Kneels.

Cor. My gracious silence, hail!
Would'st thou have laugh'd, had I come coffin'd home,
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
And mothers that lack sons.
Men. Now the gods crown thee!
Cor. And live you yet?-O my sweet lady, pardon

[To Valeria

Vol. I know not where to turn: -
O welcome home!
And welcome, general!
and you are welcome all!
Men. A hundred thousand welcomes! I could weep,

And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy. Welcome!
A curse begin at very root of his heart,

Cor. Your hand, and yours:

[To his wife and mother.
Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
The good patricians must be visited;
From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings,
But with them change of honours.

Vol. I have lived

To see inherited my very wishes,

And the buildings of my fancy only there

Is one thing wanting, which I doubt not, but
Our Rome will cast upon thee.

Cor. Know, good mother,

I had rather be their servant in my way,
Than sway with them in theirs.
Com. On, to the Capitol!

[Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as
before. The Tribunes remain.
Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared
sights

Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse
Into a rapture lets her baby cry,

While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins
Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks,
dows,

Sic. It shall be to him then, as our good wills; A sure destruction.

Bru. So it must fall out

To him, or our authorities. For an end,

We must suggest the people, in what hatred
He still hath held them: that to his power, he would
Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, and
Dispropertied their freedoms: holding them,
In human action and capacity,

Of no more soul, nor fitness for the world,
Then camels in their war; who have their provand
Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows
For sinking under them.

Sic. This, as you say, suggested

At some time when his soaring insolence

Shall teach the people, (which time shall not want,
If he be put upon't; and that's as easy,
As to set dogs on sheep,) will be his fire
To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze
Shall darken him for ever.

Enter a Messenger.

Bru. What's the matter?

Mes. You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought,
That Marcius shall be consul: I have seen
The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind
To hear him speak: the matrons flung their gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended,
As to Jove's statue; and the commons made
A shower, and thunder, with their caps, and shouts ;
I never saw the like.

Bru. Let's to the Capitol;

And carry with us ears and eyes for the time,
hearts for the event.

win-But

Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'd
With variable complexions; all agreeing
In earnestness to see him: seld-showu flamens
Do press among the popular throngs, and puff
To win a vulgar station: our veil'd dames
Commit the war of white and damask in
Their nicely-gawded cheeks, to the wanton spoil
Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother,
As if that whatsoever god, who leads him,
Were slily crept into his human powers,
And gave him graceful posture.
Sic. On the sudden,

I warrant him consul.

Bru. Then our office may, During his power, go sleep.

Sic. He cannot temperately transport his honours From where he should begin, and end; but will Lose those that he hath won.

Bru. In that there's comfort.

Sic. Doubt not, the commoners, for whom we stand,
But they, upon their ancient malice, will
Forget, with the least cause, these his new honours;
Which that he'll give them, make as little question
As he is proud to do't.

Bru. I heard him swear,

Were he to stand for consul, never would he
Appear i'the market-place, nor on him put
The napless vesture of humility;

Nor showing (as the manner is) his wounds
To the people, beg their stinking breaths.
Sic. 'Tis right.

Bru. It was his word: 0, he would miss it, rather,
Than carry it, but by the suit o'the gentry to him,
And the desire of the nobles.

Sic. I wish no better,

Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it
In execution.

Bru. 'Tis most like, he will.

Sic. Have with you.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

The same. The Capitol.

Enter two Officers, to lay cushions.

1 Off. Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand for consulships?

2 Off. Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one, Coriolanus will carry it.

1 Off. That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and loves not the common people.

2 Off: 'Faith, there have been many great men that have flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there be many that they have loved, they know not wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground: therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate him, manifests the true knowledge he has in their disposition; and, out of his noble carelessness, let's them plainly see't.

1 Off. If he did not care whether he had their love, or no, he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither good, nor harm; but he seeks their hate with greater devotion, than they can render it him; and leaves nothing undone, that may fully discover him their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people, is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.

2 Off. He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those, who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, without any further deed to heave them at all into their estimation and report; but he hath so planted his honours in their eyes, and his actious in their hearts, that for their tongues to be silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.

1 Off. No more of him; he is a worthy man. Make way, they are coming.