O, no more, no more! You have said, you will not grant us any thing; And state of bodies would bewray what life Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow; Making the mother, wife, and child, to see Our wish, which side should win: for either thou Ay, and on mine, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time. Boy. He shall not tread on me; I'll run away, till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Vol. ⚫ Gust, storm. [Rising. Nay, go not from us thus. 1 Betray. If it were so, that our request did tend To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us, To tear with thunder the wide checks o' the air, More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate Cor. O mother, mother! [Holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, 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 son, Believe it, O, believe it, Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most 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 stead, say, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was mov'd withal. 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, you; Why, hark [Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, hautboys, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again. Men. This is good news: I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia A city full; of tribunes, such as you, A sea and land full: You have prayed well to-day; Men. See you yond' coign2 o' the Capitol: yond' I'd not have given a doit. corner stone? Sic. Why, what of that? 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 sentenced, and stay upon execution. Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man? This Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He loved 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 3, as a thing made for 4 Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a 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 shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us! Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. next, Accept my thankfulness. Mess. Sir, we have all They are near the city? Great cause to give great thanks. Sic. Mess. Almost at point to enter. And help the joy. We will meet them, [Going. Repeal 5 him with the welcome of his mother; Cry,- Welcome, ladies, welcome! AU. Welcome, ladies! Welcome! [A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt. SCENE V. - Antium. A publick Place. 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. Him I accuse, The city ports 6 by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants. Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius' Faction. Most welcome! 1 Con. How is it with our general? Auf. Even so, As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, 2 Con. Most noble sir, If you do hold the same intent wherein Auf Sir, I cannot tell; We must proceed, as we do find the people. 2 Angle. 3 Chair of state. 4 To resemble. 5 Recall. 6 Gates. 3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all. Auf. A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd 3 Con. Sir, his stoutness, When he did stand for consul, which he lost Auf. That I would have spoke of: 1 Con. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd For no less spoil, than glory, · Auf. There was it; For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. At a few drops of women's rheum 8, which are As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour Of our great action; Therefore shall he die, And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! [Drums and Trumpets sound, with great Shouts of the People. 1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise. 2 Con. And patient fools, Enter CORIOLANUS, with Drums and Colours; a Crowd of Citizens with him. Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier; Do more than counterpoise, a full third part, With no less honour to the Antiates, Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver, Read it not, noble lords; Auf. Cor. Ay, traitor Marcius. Marcius! Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave! Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, : Must give this cur the lie and his own notion My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust 1 Lord. Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? Con. Let him die for't. [Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son ;-my daughter; He killed my cousin Marcus; killed my father. 2 Lord. Peace, ho; -no outrage; - peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth. His last offence to us He CICERO, PUBLIUS, POPILIUS LENA; Senators. ARTEMIDORUS, a Sophist of Cnidos. CINNA, a Poet. Another Poet. LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, young CATO, and VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRATO, LUCIUS, DAR- Conspirators against Julius PINDARUS, Servant to Cassius. Cæsar. MARCUS BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, LIGARIUS, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, CINNA, FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, Tribunes. SCENE, during a great Part of the Play, at Rome: afterwards at Sardis; and near Philippi. SCENE I.— Rome. A Street. ACT I. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of Citizens. Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Of your profession?- Speak, what trade art thou? Mar. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? I meddle with no tradesman's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather, have gone upon my handy-work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, 2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soies. Mar. What trade, thou knave; thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow ! 2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, ? Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: And do you now put on your best attire? |