you,

But with such words that are but roted in
Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom's truth.
Now, this no more dishonours you at all
Than to take in a town with gentle words.
Which else would put you to your fortune and
The hazard of much blood.

I would dissemble with my nature where
My fortunes and my friends at stake requir'd
I should do so in honour. I am in this,
Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles:
And you will rather show our general louts
How you can frown, than spend a fawn upon

Com. I have been i' the market-place; and, sir, 't is fit

95

You make strong party, or defend yourself
By calmness or by absence. All 's in anger.
Men. Only fair speech.
Com.
I think 't will serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.
Vol.
He must, and will.
Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.
Cor. Must I go show them my unbarb'd
sconce? Must I

With my base tongue give to my noble heart 100
A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do 't;
Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
This mould of Marcius, they to dust should
grind it

And throw 't against the wind. To the marketplace!

You have put me now to such a part which

Cog their hearts from them, and come home belov'd

Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going;
Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; 135
Or never trust to what my tongue can do
I' the way of flattery further.
Vol.

Do your will.
[Exit.
Com. Away! the tribunes do attend you.
Arm yourself

To answer mildly; for they are prepar'd
With accusations, as I hear, more strong 140
Than are upon you yet.

Cor. The word is "mildly." Pray you, let

If you submit you to the people's voices, Allow their officers, and are content

To suffer lawful censure for such faults As shall be prov'd upon you?

Cor.

45

I am content.
Men. Lo, citizens, he says he is content.
The warlike service he has done, consider;
think

Upon the wounds his body bears, which show 50
Like graves i' the holy churchyard.
Cor.

Scratches with briers,
Scars to move laughter only.
Men.

Consider further, That when he speaks not like a citizen, You find him like a soldier. Do not take His rougher accents for malicious sounds, But, as I say, such as become a soldier Rather than envy you.

Com.

Well, well, no more. Cor. What is the matter That being pass'd for consul with full voice,

65

From Rome all season'd office and to wind
Yourself into a power tyrannical;

For which you are a traitor to the people.
Cor. How! traitor!

Men. Nay, temperately; your promise.
Cor. The fires i' the lowest hell fold in the

people!

Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say
"Thou liest" unto thee with a voice as free
As I do pray the gods.
Sic.
Mark you this, people?
[Citizens.] To the rock, to the rock with him!
Sic.
Peace!
We need not put new matter to his charge.
What you have seen him do and heard him
speak,

Beating your officers, cursing yourselves.
Opposing laws with strokes and here defying
Those whose great power must try him; even

this,

Com. Know, I pray you,—

Cor.

I'll know no further. Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death. Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger But with a grain a day, I would not buy Their mercy at the price of one fair word; Nor check my courage for what they can give. To have 't with saying "Good morrow." Sic. For that he has, As much as in him lies, from time to time Envi'd against the people, seeking means To pluck away their power, as now at last Given hostile strokes, and that not in the pre

sence

Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers That do distribute it; in the name o' the people

And in the power of us the tribunes, we,
Even from this instant, banish him our city,
In peril of precipitation

From off the rock Tarpeian never more
To enter our Rome gates. I' the people's name,
I say it shall be so.

[Citizens.] It shall be so, it shall be so. Let him away!

He's banish'd, and it shall be so.

Com. Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,

Sic. He's sentenc'd; no more hearing.

As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air, I banish you!
And here remain with your uncertainty!
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! 125
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair! Have the power still
To banish your defenders; till at length
Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
Making not reservation of yourselves,
Still your own foes, deliver you as most
Abated captives to some nation
That won you without blows! Despising,
For you, the city, thus I turn my back;
There is a world elsewhere.

130

135

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius [Menenius, Senators, and Patricians]. They all shout, and throw up their caps.

Ed. The people's enemy is gone, is gone! [Citizens.] Our enemy is banish'd!" he is gone! Hoo! hoo!

Sic. Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, As he hath follow'd you, with all despite; Give him deserv'd vexation. Let a guard Attend us through the city.

140

Citizens.] Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come.

The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.

ACT IV

[Exeunt.

And we of thee; so if the time thrust forth 40
A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
O'er the vast world to seek a single man,
And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
I' the absence of the needer.

Cor.
Fare ye well!
Thou hast years upon thee, and thou art too full
Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruis'd. Bring me but out at

gate.

46

Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,
Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come.
While I remain above the ground, you shall 51
Hear from me still, and never of me aught
But what is like me formerly.

Men.

That's worthily

58

As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
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.

10

Cor. Come.

Give me thy hand: [Exeunt.

ney.

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

Vols. 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 tå 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.

Vols. Coriolanus banish'd!

Rom. Banish'd, sir.

Vols. You will be welcome with this intel gence, Nicanor.