Ere he express himself, or move the people Auf. Say no more, Here come the Lords. Enter the Lords of the City. All Lords. You're most welcome home. But, worthy Lords, have you with heed perus'd All. We have. 1 Lord. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the laft, I think, Enter Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours: the Cor. Hail, Lords; I am return'd, your foldier; The gates of Rome: Our fpoils, we have brought home, The charges of the action. We've made peace Than fhame to th' Romans: and we here deliver, Together with the feal o'th' Senate, what Auf. Read it not, noble Lords, But But tell the traitor, in the highest degree Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; doft thou think, You Lords and heads o' th' ftate, perfidiously Cor. Hear't thou, Mars! Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears! Auf. No more. Cor. Meafurelefs liar, thou haft made my heart I'm forc'd to fcold. Your judgments, my grave Lords, 1 Lord. Peace both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volfcians, men and lads, Alone I did it. Boy! Auf. Why, noble Lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,. 'Fore All People. Tear him to pieces, do it presently: He kill'd my fon, my daughter,-kill'd my coufin,-He kill'd my father.- [The Croud fpeak promiscuously. 2 Lord. Peace,- -no outrage-peace The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' th' earth; his laft offences to us Cor. O that I had him, With fix Aufidius's, or more, his tribe, Auf. Infolent villain ! All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. [The Confpirators all draw, and kill Marcius, who falls, and Aufidius ftands on him. Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold. Auf. My noble matters, hear me speak.. 1 Lord. O Tullus 2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed, whereat Valour will weep. 3 Lord. Tread not upon him-mafters all, be quiet; Put up your fwords. Auf. My Lords, when you fhall know (as in this ragɔ 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 Senate, 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 2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame: Auf. My rage is gone, And I am ftruck with forrow: take him up: Help, Help, three o' th' chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one. (42) [Exeunt,bearing the body of Marcius. A dead march founded. (42) Help, three o' th' chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one.] Not one of the three, but one to affift them: he would make the fourth man. So, in the conclufion of Hamlet; -Let four captains. Bear Hamlet like a foldier to the stage: The End of the SIXTH Volume. |