Vir. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. Val. You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all the yarn she spun, in Ulysses' absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would, your cambrick were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.

Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

Vir. O, good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, madam?

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is: The Volces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go

with us.

Vir. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

Vol. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.

you

Val. In troth, I think, she would:-) Fare well then.- Come, good sweet lady. - Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o'door, and go along with us.

Vir. No: at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth.

Val. Well, then farewell.

SCENE IV. - Before Corioli.

[Exeunt.

Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work;
That we with smoking swords may march from
hence,

To help our fielded friends!— Come, blow thy blast.
They sound a parley. Enter, on the walls, some
Senators, and others.

Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls

1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than be, That's lesser than a little. Hark, our drums [Alarums afar of.

Are bringing forth our youth: We'll break our walls,

Rather than they shall pound us up: Our gates, Which yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with rushes;

They'll open of themselves.

Hark you, afar off; [Other alarums.

work he makes

O, they are at it!

There is Aufidius; list, what
Amongst your cloven army.
Mar.
Lart. Their noise be our instruction. — Ladders,
ho!

The Volces enter, and pass over the stage.
Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city.
Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight
With hearts more proof than shields. — Advance,
brave Titus :

They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,
Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on,
my fellows;

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volce,
And he shall feel mine edge.

Alarums, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting.

The Romans are beaten back to their trenches.
Re-enter MARCIUS.

Mar. All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome!-you herd of — Boils and plagues

Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorr'd
Further than seen, and one infect another
Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,,
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From slaves that apes would beat? Pluto and hell!
All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge
home,

Enter, with drums and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe,

LARTIUS, Officers, and Soldiers.

Messenger.

To them a

Mess. They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.

Lart. So, the good horse is mine.

profane,

Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall
I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-fac'd soothing! When steel grows
Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars! No more, I say;
For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,
Or foil'd some debile wretch, which, without note,
Here's many else have done, you shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I loved my little should be dieted
In praises sauc'd with lies.

Com

Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report, than grateful
To us that give you truly: by your patience,
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!

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.
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 would'st 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
Hath not that honour in't, it had for where
I thought to crush 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 subtle: My valour's poison'd,

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary,

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums. Being naked, sick: nor fane, nor Capitol,

All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !

Cor. I will go wash;

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.

ACT II.

SCENE I.- Rome. A publick Place.
Enter MENENIUS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS.
Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news
to-night.

Bru. Good, or bad?

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?

Bru. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.
Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and 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.

Roth 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?

- Will you

Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well. 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 as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud?

Bru. We do it not alone, sir.

Men. I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are many; or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infantlike, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: O, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could!

Bru. What then, sir?

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

legs; you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and a fossetseller; and then rejourn the controversy of threepence to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the cholick, you make faces like mummers; set up the bloody flag against all patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss 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. Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you

are.

When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave, as to stuff a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion; though, peradventure, 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 scenB

Enter VOLUMNIA, Virgilia, and VALERIA, fc. 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. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius 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?

Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it
Men. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of

Sic. Menenius, you are known well 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 Tyber in't; said to be something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty, and tinder-like, 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 Ly-seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip curguses) 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

at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in
Galen is but empiricutick, and, to this preservative,
of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not
wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.
Vir. O, no, no, no.

Vol. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods fort.
Men. So do I too, if it be not too much:-