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But with his last attempt he wip'd it out;
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,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship, 390
[ Holds her by the Hands, silent,
your son-believe it, 0, believe it, Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him. But, let it come :Aufidius, thongh I cannot make true wars, I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was mov'd withal.
410 Cor. I dare be sworn, you were : And, sir, it is no little thing, to make Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me : For my part, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you: and pray you, Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife ! Alif. I am glad, thou hașt set thy mercy and thy honour
At difference in thee; out of that I'll work
[Aside. [The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS. Cor. Ay, by and by;
429 But we will drink together; and you shall bear
[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c.
The Forum, in Rome. Enter MENENIUS, and SICINIUS.
Men. See you yon coign o' the Capitol ; yon corner-stone ? Sic. Why, what of that?
400 Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But, I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenc'd, and stay upon execution.
Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?
Men. There is difference between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Mar
cius is grown from man to dragon : he has wings ; he's more than a creeping thing.
441 Sic. He lov'd 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 finish'd with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god, but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.
452 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 tyger; and that shall our poor city find; and all this is 'long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us!
459 Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good
When we banish'd him, we respected not them : and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
Enter a Messenger. Mes. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house : The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
Enter another Messenger.
Mes. As certain, as I know the sun is fire :
[Trumpets, Hautboys, Drums beat, all together.
Men. This is good news:
[Sound still, with the Shouts.