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Vol. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.

Men. And 't was time for him too, I 'll warrant him that: an he had staid by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that 's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?

Vol. Good ladies, let 's go :-Yes, yes, yes: the senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.

Val. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of

Men. Wondrous ! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.

Vir. The gods grant them true!
Vol. True? pow, wow!

Men. True? I 'll be sworn they are true :—Where is he wounded ?-God save your good worships! [To the Tribunes, who come forward.] Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud.—Where is he wounded ?

Vol. I' the shoulder, and i' the left arm ; There will be large cicatrices to show the people when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' the body.

Men. One in the neck, and two in the thigh, there's nine that I know.

Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.

Men. Now it's twenty-seven : every gash was an enemy's grave : [ a shout and flourish.] Hark! the trumpets.

Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears : Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; Which, being advanc'd, declines; and then men die.

A Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and

TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains, Soldiers, and a Herald.

Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight Within Corioli' gates : where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Marcius ; These in honour follows, Coriolanus : Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! (Flourish.

All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus !

Cor. No more of this, it does offend my heart;
Pray now, no more.

Look, sir, your mother!
Cor. O! you have, I know, petition'd all the gods
For my prosperity.

Kneels Vol.

Nay, my good soldier, up!
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius,
And by deed-achieving honour newly nam'd,
What is it? Coriolanus must I call thee?
But, О thy wife!

Cor. My gracious silence, hail!
Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home,
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
And mothers that lack sons.

Now the.gods crown thee! Cor. And live you yet?-O my sweet lady, pardon.

[To VALERIA. Vol. I know not where to turn;-0 welcome home; And welcome, general ;-—And you are welcome all.

Men. A hundred thousand welcomes : I could weep, And I could laugh; I am light and heavy: Welcome: A curse begin at very root of his heart That is not glad to see thee !-You are three That Rome should dote on : yet, by the faith of men, We have some old crab-trees here at home that will not

Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors :
We call a nettle but a nettle;
And the faults of fools but folly.

Ever right.
Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.
Her. Give way there, and go on.

Your hand, and yours:

[To his wife and mother,
Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
The good patricians must be visited ;
From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings,
But with them change of honours.

I have lived
To see inherited my very wishes,
And the buildings of my fancy:
Only there 's one thing wanting, which I doubt not,
But our Rome will cast upon thee.

Know, good mother,
I had rather be their servant in my way,
Than sway with them in theirs.

On, to the Capitol !
(Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before.

The Tribunes remain.
Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared

sights Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse Into a rapture a lets her baby cry, While she chats him ; the kitchen malkin b pius Her richest lockram c 'bout her reechy neck, Clambering the walls to eye him: Stalls, bulks, windows, Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'd With variable complexions : all agreeing In earnestness to see him : seld-shown flamens Do press among the popular throngs, and puff a Rapture-fit. b Malkin. A scarecrow, a figure of rags, is called a malkin. Lockram was no doubt a coarse linen

To win a vulgar station : our veil'd dames
Commit the war of white and damask, in
Their nicely-gawded cheeks, to the wanton spoil
Of Phæbus' burning kisses : such a pother,
As if that whatsoever god who leads him
Were slily crept into his human powers,
And gave him graceful posture.

On the sudden,
I warrant him consul.

Then our office may,
During his power, go sleep.

Sic. He cannot temperately transport his honours From wbere he should begin, and end; but will Lose those he hath won. Bru.

In that there is comfort.
Sic. Doubt not the commoners, for whom we stand,
But they, upon their ancient malice, will
Forget, with the least cause, these his new honours;
Which that he 'll give them, make I as little question
As he is proud to do it.

I heard him swear,
Were he to stand for consul, never would he
Appear i' the market-place, nor on him put
The napless á vesture of humility;
Nor, showing (as the manner is) his wounds
To the people, beg their stinking breaths.

'T is right.
Bru. It was his word : 0, he would miss it, rather
Than carry it, but by the suit o' the gentry to him,
And the desire of the nobles.

I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it In execution.

Bru. 'Tis inost like, he will.

Sic. It shall be to him then, as our good wills; A sure destructior.

a Napless-threadbare.


So it must fall out To him, or our authorities. For an end, We must suggest the people in what hatred He still hath held them; that, to his power, he would Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, And dispropertied their freedoms: holding them, In human action and capacity, Of no more soul, nor fitness for the world, Than camels in their war; who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them. Sic.

This, as you say,--suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall teach the people,-(which time shall not want, If he be put upon it, and that 's as easy As to set dogs on sheep,) will be his fire To kindle their dry stubble;and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.

Enter a Messenger. Bru.

What 's the matter?
Mess. You are sent for to the Capitol.
'T is thought that Marcius shall be consul :
I have seen the dumb men throng to see him,
And the blind to hear him speak: Matrons flung

Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended,
Aš to Jove's statue; and the commons made
A shower and thunder, with their caps and shouts :
I never saw the like.

Let 's to the Capitol;
And carry with us ears and eyes for the time,
But hearts for the event.

Have with you. [Exeunt.

a This-this pian-is the antecedent to " will be his fire."

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