Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, &c. How now, my as fair as noble ladies, (and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler,) whither do you follow your eyes so fast?

Vol. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go.

Men. Ha! Marcius coming home?

Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.

Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee :-Hoo! Marcius coming home!

Two Ladies. Nay, 'tis true.

Vol. Look, here's a letter from him; the state hath another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one at home for you.

-A

Men. I will make my very house reel to-night :letter for me?

Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it. Men. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.

Vir. O, no, no, no.

Vol. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't.

Men. So do I too, if it be not too much :-Brings a' victory in his pocket?-The wounds become him.

Vol. On's brows, Menenius; he comes the third time home with the oaken garland.

Men. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?

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

Men. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that an he had staid by him, I would not have been so fidius'd for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this ?2

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

[2] Possessed, in our author's language, is fully informed.

JOHNS.

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. 3

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.

Com. Look, sir, your mother,

Cor. O !

You have, I know, petition'd all the gods

For my prosperity.

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 O, thy wife

[Kneels.

[3] Volumnia in her boasting strain, says, that her son to kill his enemy has nothing to do but to lift his hand up and let it fall. JOHNS.

Cor. My gracious silence, hail!2

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.

Men. Now the gods crown thee !

Cor. And live you yet?-O my sweet lady, pardon. [TO VALERIA. Vol. I know not where to turn :-O 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.

Com. Ever right.

Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.

Her. Give way there, and go on.

Cor. Your hand, and your's: [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.

Vol. I have lived

To see inherited my very wishes,

And the buildings of my fancy: Only there

Is one thing wanting, which I doubt not, but
Our Rome will cast upon thee.

Cor. Know, good mother,

I had rather be their servant in my way,

Than sway with them in theirs.

Com. 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 pratling nurse

[4] By my gracious silence, I believe, the poet meant, thou whose silent tears are more eloquent and grateful to me, than the clamorous applause of the rest! So, in The Martial Maid of Beaumont and Fletcher:

A lady's tears are silent orators,

Or should be so at least, to move beyond

The honey-tongued rhetorician.

STEEV.

Gracious seems to have had the same meaning formerly that graceful has at this day.

MAL.

Into a rapture lets her baby cry,5

While she chats him: the kitchen malkin

pins

Her richest lockram7 'bout her reechy neck, 8

Clamb'ring 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
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 Phoebus' 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.

Sic. On the sudden,

I warrant him consul.

Bru. Then our office may,

During his power, go sleep.

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

Bru. In that there's 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 as little question

As he is proud to do't.

Bru. I heard him swear,

Were he to stand for consul, never would he
Appear i'the market-place, nor on him put
The napless vesture of humility;2

Nor, shewing (as the manner is) his wounds
To the people, beg their stinking breaths.

[5] Rapture, a common term at that time used for a fit, simply. So to be rapp'd signified, to be in a fit. WARB.

[6] A maukin, or malkin, is a kind of mop made of clouts for the use of sweeping ovens: thence a dirty wench. HANMER Maukin in some

parts of England signifies a figure of clouts set up to fright birds in gardens: a scarecrow. P.Malkin is properly the diminutive of Mal (Mary); as Wilkin, Temkin, &c. Grey malkin (corruptly grimalkin) is a cat. The kitch en malkin is the same as the kitchen Madge or Bess: the scallion. RITSON. [7] Lockram was a kind of cheap liner. STEEV.

[8] Reechy is greasy, sweaty. RITSON.

[9] Seld-shown flamens-that is, priests who seldom exhibit themselves to public view.

STEEV.

[1] That is, as if that god who leads him, whatsoever god he be JOHN. [2] By napless Shakspeare means thread-bare. Plutarch's words are "with a poore gowne on their backes." MAL.

Sic. 'Tis right.

Bru. It was his word: O, he would miss it, rather Than carry it, but by the suit o'the gentry to him, And the desire of the nobles.

Sic. I wish no better,

Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it
In execution.

Bru. 'Tis most like, he will.

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

Bru. 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 Disproperty'd 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't; 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?

Mes. You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis 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 their gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended,

As to Jove's statue; and the commons made
A shower, and thunder, with their caps, and shouts :
I never saw the like.

Bru. Let's to the Capitol ;

And carry with us ears and eyes for the time,
But hearts for the event.

Sic. Have with you.

[Exeunt.