Has! how bare bounce Alück.. else thy

Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy: For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound; together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our streets, or else .
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till .
These wars determine:5 if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to’t, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Vir.

.

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.

Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.

[Rising. Vol.

Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so, that our request did tend

• These wars determine:] i, e. conclude, end.

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volces, whom you serve, you might condemn us, As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces May say, This mercy we have show'd; the Romans, This we receiv’d; and each in either side Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd For making up this peace! Thou know'st, great song The end of war's uncertain; but this certain, That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a name, Whose repetition will be dogg’d with curses; Whose chronicle thus writ,- The man was noble, But with his last attempt he wip'd it out; Destroy'd his country ; and his name remains To the ensiling age, abhorr’d. Speak to me, son: Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,

FONOU, To imitate the graces of the gods; To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air, : And yet to charge thy sulphur? with a bolt .. That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak ? Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs :-Daughter, speak you: He cares not for your weeping.--Speak thou, boy: Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more Than can our reasons.--There is no man in the

. world More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate Like one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy; When she, (poor hen!) fond of no second brood, Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,

*-- the fine strains.] The niceties, the refinements.

Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.--He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shaine him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus ’longs more pride,
Thạn pity to our prayers. Down; An end:
This is the last;-So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.--Nay, behold us:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition' with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go;
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child
Like him by chance :-Yet give us our despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.
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 yictory 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
Another 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

The gods le sou done? Behora by the Hand

9 Does reason our petition-] Does argue for us and our petition,

Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you,
Stand to me in this cause.O mother! wife!
Auf. I am glad, thou has set thy mercy and thy

honour
At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.'

FAside: [The Ladies make signs to CoriolanUS. Cor. 'n

Ay, by and by;

T. VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c. But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we; On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. . Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you: all the swords In Italy, and her confederate arms, Could not have made this peace.' [Exeunt.

Gou have and her made this

Enter MeneniuS and Socinius. Men. See you yond' coign o'the Capitol; yond' 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 inother, may prevail with him.

L a former fortune.] i. e. restore myself to my former credit and power.

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?

Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This 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 bum is a battery, He sits in his state, 4 as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to tlirone 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. .

Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your

house;

- stay upon erecution.] i.e. stay but for it. Ie sits in his state, 8c.] His state means his chair of state,