Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! [Volumnia.] O, stand up bless'd! Thou art my warrior: I help'd to form thee. [Coriolanus.] The noble sister of Publicola- [Volumnia.] This is a poor epitome of yours, [Coriolanus.] The god of soldiers, With the consent of Jove supreme, inform All those that eye thee! [Volumnia.] Your knee, sirrah. [Coriolanus.] That's my brave boy. [Volumnia.] Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you. [Coriolanus.] I beseech you, peace: Or, if you'd ask, remember this before- Again with Rome's mechanics :-tell me not [Volumnia.] Oh, no more, no more! You ha've said you will not grant us anything; For we have nothing else to ask, but that Which you deny already: yet, we will ask, That, if we fail in our request, the blame May hang upon your hardness: therefore, hear us. [Coriolanus.] Aufidius, and you Volscians, mark; for we’li Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request? [Volumnia.] Think with thyself, How more unfortu'nate than all living women Either to see thee led a recreant In manacles throughout our streets; or else I These wars determine: if I canno't persuade thee The Volscians whom you serve, you might condemn.us [a pause.] When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee This boy, that cannot tell what he would have, [a pause.] Come; let's go : This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; His wife is in Corioli, and his child Like him by chance: Yet give us our despatch: I a'm hush'd until our city be on fire, And then I'll speak a little. [Coriolanus.] O, mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do open, A happy victory for Rome, But, for your son-believe it, O believe it!- Aufidius, though I cannot war, I'll frame Could not have made this peace. One more scene concludes the story. It is laid at Antium, where, in one of the public places, the lords of the city are expecting the arrival of Coriolanus: he enters with signs of triumph, and addresses those who are waiting to receive him. [Coriolanus.] Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier; Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting The gates of Rome. The spoils we have brought home The charges of the action. We have made peace With no less honour to the Antiá-tes Than shame to the Romans. And we here deliver, We have compounded on. Aufidius comes forward. [Aufidius.] Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor, in the highest degree He hath abus'd your powers. [Coriolanus.] Traitor! How now? [Aufidius.] Ay, traitor! Marcius [Coriolanus.] Marcius! [Aufidius.] Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stolen name Coriolanus in Corioli? Ye lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously He has betray'd your busi'ness, and given up Your city, Rome, I say your city, to That pages blush'd for him, and men of heart [Coriolanus. Hear'st thou, Mars! [Aufidius.] Name not the god, thou boy of tears. [Coriolanus.] O slave! Measureless liar! thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it.-Boy!-False hound, [Aufidius.] Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, A tumult ensues: voices are heard severally exclaiming he killed my son—he killed my cousin Marcus-he killed my father. Some endeavour to protect him: but he is slain: Aufidius standing over his body continues to speak: My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow. Though among us Who to this hour bewail the injury, Yet shall he have a noble memory. ROME, UNDER THE FIRST OF THE CESARS, REPRESENTED by scenes IMAGINED TO TAKE PLACE IN THE STREETS OF THE CITY, AND IN THE GARDEN OF MARCUS BRUTUS, DURING THE PROGRESS OF THE CONSPIRACY AGAINST CESAR. HISTORICAL MEMORANDA. Between the days of Roman story lately before us, and those to which our attention is now called, more than four centuries rolled |