are, long; and your mifery increafe with your age! Even to a full difgrace-Beft of my flesh, I lay to you, as 1 was faid to, Away!
Set down our hoft.-My partner in this action,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not fay, For that, Forgive our Romans.-0, a kifs Long as my exile, fweet as my revenge!
Now by the jealous queen of heaven 2, that kifs I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip Hath virgin'd it e'er fince.-You gods! I prate, And the most noble mother of the world Leave unfaluted: Sink, my knee, i' the earth;
Of thy deep duty more impreffion fhew Than that of common fons.
You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly Whilft, with no fofter cushion than the flint,
1 have borne this bufinefs.
Auf. Only their ends
You have refpected; ftopp'd your ears against The general fuit of Rome; never admitted A private whifper, no, not with fuch friends That thought them fure of you.
Whom with a crack'd heart I have fent to Rome,
Lov'd me above the measure of a father; Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge Was to fend him: for whofe old love, I have (Though I fhew'd fourly to him) once more offer'd The first conditions, which they did refufe, And cannot now accept, to grace him only, That thought he could do more; a very little I have yielded too: Fresh embaffies, and suits, Nor from the ftate, nor private friends, hereafter Will I lend ear to.-Ha! What shout is this? [Shout within.
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow In the fame time 'tis made? I will not.-
Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, young Marcius, with Attendants, all in mourning.
My wife comes foremoft; then the honour'd mold Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! All bond and privilege of nature, break! Let it be virtuous, to be obftinate.-
What is that curt'fy worth? or thofe dove's eyes, Which can make gods forfworn ?—I melt, and
I kneel before thee; and unproperly
Shew duty, as miftaken all the while [Kneels Between the child and parent.
Your knees to me? to your corrected fon? Then let the pebbles on the hungry beech Fillop the ftars; then let the mutinous winds Murd'ring impoffibility, to make Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery fun;
What cannot be, flight work.
Vol. Thou art my warrior; I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? [Pointing to Valeria.
Cor. The noble fifter of Publicola, The moon of Rome; chafte as the ificle That's curdled by the froft from purest fnow, And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria! Vel. This is a poor epitome of yours,
[Shewing young Marcius. Which by the interpretation of full time May fhew like all yourself.
Cor. The god of foldiers, With the confent of fupreme Jove, inform Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st prove
To fhame invulnerable, and ftick i' the wars Like a great fea-mark, ftanding every flaw 3, And faving thofe that eye thee!
Vol. Your knee, firrah. Cor. That's my brave boy.
Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and my- felf,
Of stronger earth than others.-My mother bows; Are fuitors to you. As if Olympus to a mole-hill fhould
In fupplication nod: and my young boy Hath an afpect of interceffion, which
Great nature cries, Deny not.-Let the Volces Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never Be fuch a gofling to obey inftinct; but stand, As if a man were author of himself, And knew no other kin.
Virg. My lord and husband!
Cor. These eyes are not the fame I wore in Rome. Virg. The forrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think fo.
Cor. Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Cor. I befeech you, peace:
Or, if you'd afk, remember this before; The things, I have forfworn to grant, may never Be held by you denials. Do not bid me Difmifs my foldiers, or capitulate Again with Rome's mechanics :-Tell me not Wherein I feem unnatural: Defire not To allay my rages and revenges, with Your colder reafons.
Vol. Oh, no more, no more! You have faid, you will not grant us any thing; For we have nothing elfe to afk, but that Which you deny already: Yet we will ask; That, if we fail in our requeft, the blame
3 i. e. every gul, every form.
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your requeft? Vol. Should we be filent and not speak, our" But with his last attempt he wip'd it out:
And state of bodies would bewray what life We have led fince thy exile. Think with thyfelf, How more unfortunate than all living women Are we come hither: fince that thy fight, which should [comforts, Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with Conftrains them weep, and shake with fear and forrow;
Which thou fhalt thereby reap, is such a name, Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; Whofe chronicle thus writ," The man was noble, "Deftroy'd his country, and his name remains "To the enfuing age, abhorr'd." Speak to me, fon : Thou haft affected the fine strains of honour, To imitate the graces of the gods; To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, And yet to charge thy fulphur with a bolt That fhould but rive an oak 2. Why doft not speak? Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs ?-Daughter, fpeak you: He cares not for your weeping.-Speak thou, boy; Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more Than can our reafons.-There is no man in the world
Making the mother, wife, and child, to fee The fon, the husband, and the father, tearing His country's bowels out. And to poor we, Thine enmity's moft capital: thou barr'st us Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate, That all but we enjoy : For how can we, 3 Like one i' the stocks. Thou haft never in thy life Alas! how can we for our country pray, Shew'd thy dear mother any courtesy; Whereto we are bound; together with thy victory, When fhe, (poor hen !) fond of no fecond brood, Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lofe | Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and fafely home,
The country, our dear nurfe; or elfe thy perfon, Our comfort in the country. We must find An evident calamity, though we had
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjuft, And spurn me back: But, if it be not fo, Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
Our wifh, which fide should win: for either thou That thou reftrain'ft from me the duty, which Muft, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our streets; or elfe Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin; And bear the palm, for having bravely shed Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, fon, I purpose not to wait on fortune, 'till Thefe wars determine: if I cannot perfuade thee Rather to fhew a noble grace to both parts, Than feek the end of one, thou shalt no fooner March to affault thy country, than to tread (Truft to 't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb, That brought thee to this world.
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away: Down, ladies; let us fhame him with our knees, To his furname Coriolanus 'longs more pride, Than pity to our prayers. Down: An end: This is the laft :-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, Does reafon 4 our petition with more ftrength Than thou haft to deny 't.-Come, let us go: This fellow had a Volce to his mother; His wife is in Corioli, and this child Like him by chance :-Yet give us our dispatch:
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name I am hufh'd until our city be afire, Living to time,
Boy. He fhall not tread on me;
I'll run away 'till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to fee. I have fat too long.
Vol. Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were fo, that our request did tend To fave the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volces whom you ferve, you might condemn As poisonous of your honour: No; our fuit Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces May fay, "This mercy we have fhew'd;" Romans,
"This we receiv'd ;" and each in either fide Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, "Be bleft "For making up this peace!" Thou know'ft, great fon,
The end of war 's uncertain; but this certain, That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
And then I'll speak a little.
[Holds ber by the hands, filent. What have you done? Behoid, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome: But, for your fon,-believe it, O, believe it, Moft dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not moft mortal to him. But, let it come :- Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in,my ftead, fay, would you have heard A mother lefs? or granted lefs, Aufidius? Auf. I was mov'd withal,
Car. I dare be fworn, you were: And, fir, it is no little thing, to make Mine eyes to fweat compaffion. But, good fir, What peace you'll make, advife me: For my part, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you: and pray you,
I That is, confirains the eye to weep, and the heart to shake. 2 The meaning is, to threaten
much, and yet be merciful.
3 i. e. keeps me in a late of ignominy talking to no purpose.
At difference in thee: out of that I'll work Myfelf a former fortune 1.
Ahde. [The Ladies make figns to Coriolanus. Cor. Ay, by and by; But we will drink together; and you fhall bear [To Volumnia, Virgilin, &c. A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counter-feal'd. Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you: all the fwords In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.
Enter another Mellinger.
Sic. What's the news?
Mef. Good news, good news;-The ladies have prevail'd,
The Volces are diflodg'd, and Marcius gone : A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, No, not the expulfion of the Tarquins. Sic. Friend,
Art thou certain, this is true? is it most certain ? Mef. As certain, as I know the fun is fire: Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an arch so hurry'd the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you;
[Trumpets, hautboys, drums beat, all together. The trumpets, fackbuts, pfalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the fhouting Romans, Make the fun dance. Hark you! [A fhout within. Men. This is good news: This Volumnia
I will go meet the ladies.
Men. See you yon coign o' the Capitol; yon Is worth of confuls, fenators, patricians,
corner-ftone?
Sic. Why, what of that?
Men. If it be poflible for you to difplace it with your little finger, there is fome hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But, I fay, there is no hope in 't; our throats are fentenc'd, and ftay upon execution.
Sic. Is't poffible, that fo fhort 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 Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.
Sic. He lov'd his mother dearly.
Sic. They are near the city Mef. Almoft at point to enter.
Sic. We'll meet them, and help the joy. [Exeunt. Enter two Senators, with the Ladies, paffing over the flage, Sc. &c.
Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horfe2. Sen. Behold our patronefs, the life of Rome: The tartnefs of his face fours ripe grapes. When Call all your tribes together, praife the gods, he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground And make triumphant fires; itrew flowers before fhrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce them :
a corflet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his Unfhout the noife that banith'd Marcius, hum is a battery. He fits in his ftate, as a thing| Repeal him with the welcome of his mother: made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is Cry,-Welcome, ladies, welcome ! finish'd with his bidding. He wants nothing of a All. Welcome, ladies, welcome! god, but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.
Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother fhall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tyger; and that fhall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you.
Sic. The gods be good unto us!
Men. No, in fuch a cafe the gods will not be good unto us. When we banish'd him, we refpected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they refpect not us.
A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt. SCENE V.
A publick Place in Antium.
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. He I accufe, The city ports by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Dispatch.-Moft welcome!
Enter three or four Confpirators of Aufidius' faction, I Con. How is it with our general ? Auf. Even fo,
As with a man by his own alms impoison'd,
1 I will take advantage of this conceffion to reftore myself to my former credit and power. 2 Subintelligitur remembers his dam.
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good conftruction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd Mine honour for his truth: Who being fo heighten'd, He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, Seducing fo my friends: and, to this end, He bow'd his nature, never known before But to be rough, unfwayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his ftoutnefs,
When he did ftand for conful, which he loft By lack of ftooping,———
Auf. That I would have spoke of: Being banih'd for 't, he came unto my hearth; Prefented to my knife his throat : I took him; Made him joint fervant with me; gave him way In all his own defires; nay, let him choose, Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, My beft and fretheft men ; ferv'd his defignments In mine own perfon; holp to reap the fame, Which he did end all his; and took fome pride To do myself this wrong: 'till, at the laft, I feem'd his follower, not partner; and He wag'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.
I Con. So he did, my lord:
The army marvell'd at it. And, in the laft, When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd] For no lefs fpoil, than glory,---
Auf. Say no more;
Here come the lords.
Enter the Lords of the city.
Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deferv'd it.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd What I have written to you?
Lords. We have.
1 Lod. And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think, Might have found eafy fines: but there to end, Where he was to begin; and give away The benefit of our levies, anfwering us With our own charge 3; making a treaty, where There was a yielding; This admits no excufe. Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him. Enter Coriolanus, with drums and colours; the Cam mons being with him.
Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your foldier; 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 profperoully I have attempted, and With bloody paffage led your wars, even to The gates of Rome. Our fpoil, we have brought honie,
Doth more than counterpoife, a full third part, The charges of the action. We have made peace, With no lefs honour to the Antiates, Than fhame to the Romans: And we here deliver, Subfcrib'd by the confuls and patricians, Together with the feal o' the fenate, what We have compounded on.
Haf. Read it not, noble lords;
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor!--How now?
luf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Cor. Marcius!
duf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Doft thou I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy ftol'n name |Coriolanus in Corioli?
You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously He has betray'd your bufinets, and given up, For certain drops of falt, your city Rome (I fay, your city) to his wife and mother: Breaking his oath and refolution, like A twift of rotten filk; never admitting Counfel o' the war; but at his nurse's tears He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
Whofe children he hath flain, their bafe throats tear, That pages blufh'd at him, and men of heart
With giving him glory.
3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he exprefs himself, or move the people With what he would fay, let him feel your sword, Which we will fecond. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reafons with his body.
Look'd wondering each at other.
Cor. Hear'ft then, Mars ?
Auf Name not the god, thou boy of tears. Cor. Ha!
Cor. Meaturelefs liar, thou haft made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O flave !—
1 The meaning, according to Dr. Johnfon, is. He trefoiled to me with an air of authority, and gave me his countenance for my wages; thought me fufficiently rewarded with good looks. 2 This is the point on which I wili attack hip with my utmolt abilities. 3 That is, rewarding us with our own expences.
Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forc'd to fcold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie and his own notion (Who wears my stripes impreft upon him; that Muft bear my beating to his grave) fhall join To thruft the lie unto him.
1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces, men and lads, Stain all your edges in me.-Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle on a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli: Alone I did it.--Boy!
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your fhame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?
All Con. Let him die for't.
All People. Tear him to pieces, do it prefently. [The croud fpeak promiscuously. He kill'd my fon,-My daughter,-He kill'd my coufin Marcus.
2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage ;-peace.The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth 1: His laft offences to us Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.
Cor. O, that I had him,
With fix Aufidiufes, or more, his tribe, To ufe my lawful fword!
Auf. Infolent villain !
All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. [Aufidius and the Confpirators draw, and kill
1 i. e. his fame overfpreads the world.
Marcius, who falls, and Aufidius ftands on
Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf. My noble mafters, hear me speak. 1 Lord. O Tullus,-
2 Lord. Thou haft done a deed, whereat Valour will weep.
[quiet; 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be Put up your fwords.
Auf. My lords, when you fhall know (as in this
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 fenate, I'll deliver Myfelf your loyal fervant, or endure Your heaviest cenfure.
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 ftruck with forrow.-Take him up: Help, three o' the chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one.— Beat thou the drum, that it fpeak 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 2. Affift.
[Exeunt, bearing the body of Marcius. A dead march founded.
2 Memory, as before, før memorial.
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