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If I could shake off but one seven years

From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
I'd with thee every foot!

Cor.

Come.

Give me thy hand.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.The same. A Street near the Gate.

Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an Ædile.

Sic. Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further.

The nobility are vex'd, who, we see, have sided
In his behalf.

Bru.

Now we have shown our power,

Let us seem humbler after it is done,
Than when it was a doing.

Sic.

Bid them home:

Say, their great enemy is gone, and they
Stand in their ancient strength.

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Keep on your way.

Vol. O, you 're well met: The hoarded plague o' the

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Peace, peace! be not so loud.

Vol. If that I could for weeping, you should hear, Nay, and you shall hear some.-Will you be gone? [TO BRUTUS.

Vir. You shall stay too: [To SICIN.] I would I had the power

To say so to my husband.

Sic.

Are you mankind? a

Vol. Ay, fool: Is that a shame?-Note but this fool.

Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship
To banish him that struck more blows for Rome,
Than thou hast spoken words?

Sic.

O blessed heavens !

Vol. More noble blows, than ever thou wise words; And for Rome's good.-I'll tell thee what ;-Yet go :Nay, but thou shalt stay too:-I would my son

Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,

His good sword in his hand.

Sic.

Vir.

What then?

What then!

He'd make an end of thy posterity.

Vol. Bastards, and all.

Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!

Men. Come, come, peace!

Sic. I would he had continued to his country,

As he began; and not unknit himself

The noble knot he made.

Bru.

I would he had.

Vol. I would he had! T was you incens'd the

rabble:

Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth,

As I can of those mysteries which heaven
Will not have earth to know.

Bru.

Pray, let us go.

Vol. Now, pray, sir, get you gone:

You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this; As far as doth the Capitol exceed

The meanest house in Rome, so far my son,

a Mankind. Sicinius asks insultingly whether Volumnia is mankind—a woman with the roughness of a man?

(This lady's husband here, this, do you see,) Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. Bru. Well, well, we 'll leave you.

Sic.

Why stay we to be baited

With one that wants her wits?

Vol.

Take my prayers with you.—

[Excunt Tribunes.

I would the gods had nothing else to do,

But to confirm my curses! Could I meet them
But once a day, it would unclog my heart

Of what lies heavy to 't.

You have told them home,

Men.
And, by my troth, you have cause.

me?

You'll sup with

Vol. Anger 's my meat; I sup upon myself,
And so shall starve with feeding.-Come, let's go :
Leave this faint puling, and lament as do,
In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
Men. Fie, fie, fie!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Highway between Rome and
Antium.

Enter a Roman and a Volce, meeting.

Rom. I know you well, sir, and you know me: your name, I think, is Adrian.

Vole. It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you.

Rom. I am a Roman; and my services are, as you are, against them: Know you me yet?

Volc. Nicanor? No.

Rom. The same, sir.

Volc. You had more beard when I last saw you, but your favour is well appeared a by your tongue. What's the news in Rome? I have a note from the Volcian state, to find you out there: You have well saved me a day's journey.

a Well appeared-rendered apparent.

Rom. There hath been in Rome strange insurrections: the people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.

Vole. Hath been! Is it ended then? Our state thinks not so; they are in a most warlike preparation, and hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.

Rom. The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing would make it flame again. For the nobles receive so to heart the banishment of that worthy Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take all power from the people, and to pluck from them their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can tell you, and is almost mature for the violent breaking out.

Volc. Coriolanus banished?

Rom. Banished, sir.

Volc. You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.

Rom. The day serves well for them now. I have heard it said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she 's fallen out with her husband. Your noble Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request of his country.

Volc. He cannot choose. I am most fortunate thus accidentally to encounter you: You have ended my business, and I will merrily accompany you home.

Rom. I shall, between this and supper, tell you most strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you?

Volc. A most royal one: the centurions, and their charges, distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, and to be on foot at an hour's warning.

Rom. I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the man, I think, that shall set them in present action. So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company.

a In the entertainment-under engagement for

pay.

Volc. You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause to be glad of yours.

Rom. Well, let us go together.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Antium. Before Aufidius's House. Enter CORIOLANUS, in mean apparel, disguised and muffled.

Cor. A goodly city is this Antium: City, 'T is I that made thy widows: many an heir Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars

Have I heard groan, and drop: then know me not;
Lest that thy wives with spits, and boys with stones,
Enter a Citizen.

In

puny battle slay me.-Save you, sir. Ĉit. And you.

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Cor.
Direct me, if it be your will,
Where great Aufidius lies: Is he in Antium?
Cit. He is, and feasts the nobles of the state,
At his house this night.

Cor.

Which is his house, 'beseech you?

Cit. This, here, before you.

Cor.

Thank you, sir; farewell.

[Exit Citizen.
O, world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,
Are still together, who, twin, as 't were, in love
Unseparable, shall within this hour,

On a dissention of a doit, break out
To bitterest enmity: So, fellest foes,

Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep
To take the one the other, by some chance,

Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends, And interjoin their issues. So with me:

My birthplace hate I, and my love 's upon

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