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1G. 'Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf, as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here: no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary on the party of your general. 2 G. Howsoever you have been his liar, (as you say, you have,) I am one that, telling true under him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. Men. Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not speak with him till after dinner. 1 G. You are a Roman, are you? Men. I am as thy general is. 1 G. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have push'd out your gates the very defender of them, and, in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as you seem to be Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon. Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation. G. Come, my captain knows you not. Men. I mean, thy general. 1G. My general cares not for you: , Back, I ... go, lest I let forth your half pint of blood —back, —that's the utmost of your having :-back. Men. Nay, but fellow, fellow,

Enter CoRiola NUs and AUFIDIUS.

Cor. What's the matter 7 Men. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; you ... know now, that I am in estimation; you shall perceive, that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment with him, if thou stand'st not i' the state of hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee.—The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than tly old father Menenius does! O, my son' my son! thou art Poins fire for us; look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to thee; but being assured, none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out of your gates with sighs; and conjure thee topardon Rome, and thy petitionary countrymen. . The good gods assuage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee. Cor. Away! Men. How ! away? Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs Are servanted to others: Though I owe My revenge properly, my remission lies In Volcian breasts. That we have been familiar, Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather Than pity note how much-Therefore, be gone. Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee, Take this along; I writ it for thy sake, (Gives a letter.) And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak.-This man, Aufidius, Was my belov’d in Rome: yet thou behold'st— Aus. You keep a constant temper. Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. 1 G. Now, sir, is your name Menenius * 2 G. "Tis a spell, you see, of much power: You know the way home again. 1 G. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

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2 G. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? Men. I neither care for the world, nor your general; for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, you are so slight. He, that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another. Let your general do his worst. . For you, be that you are, long; and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was said to, Away! [Exit 1 G. A noble fellow, I warrant him. 2G. The worthy fellow is our general: He is the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken. [Exeunt.

Scene III.-The Tent of Coriolanus. Enter Coriol ANUs, Aufidius, and others.

Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow Set down our o partner in this action, You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly I have borne this business. o Only their ends You have respected ; stopp'd your ears against The general suit of Rome; never admitted A private whisper, no, not with such friends That thought them sure of you. Cor. This last old man, Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, Lov'd me above the measure of a father; Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge Was to send him; for whose old love, I have (Though I shew’d sourly to him,) once more offer'd The first conditions, which they did refuse, And cannot now accept, to grace him only, That thought he could do more; a very little I have yielded too: Fresh embassies, and suits, Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter Will I lend ear to.—Ha! what shout is this? (Shout within.) Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow In the same time ’tis made? I will not.—

Enter, in mourning habits, Virgili.A, Volumnia, leading young MARCIUs, WALERIA, and Attendants.

My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould

herein this trunk was fram’d, and in her hand The grand-child to her blood. But, out, affection! All bond and privilege of nature, break! Let it be virtuous, to be obstinate.What is that curt’sy worth? or those dove's eyes, Which can make gods forsworn?–Imelt, and am not Of stronger earth than others.-My mother bows; As if Olympus to a molehill shoul In supplication nod: and my young boy Hath an aspéct of intercession, which Great nature cries, Deny not.—Let the Volces Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand, As if a man were author of himself, And knew no other kin.

Vir. My lord and husband 1

Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.

Vir. The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think so.

or. Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to ... disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For that, Forgive our Romans.—0, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear; and my true l
Hath virgin'd it e'er since.—You gods !
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted: Sink, my knee, i' the earth;
(Kneels.)

Of thy deep duty more impression shew
Than that of common sons.

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Vol. O, stand up bless'd? Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, I kneel before thee; and unproperly Shew duty, as mistaken all the while Between the child and parent. (Kneels.)

Cor. What is this?
Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.

Vol. Thou art my warrior; I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady ?

Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria!

Vol. #. is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May shew like all yourself.

or. The god of soldiers,

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'stprove
To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!

Vol.

Cor. That's my brave boy.

Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you.

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or. - I beseech i. peace: Or, if you'd ask, remember this before; The things, I have forsworn to grant, may never Be held by you denials. Do not bid me Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate Again with Rome's mechanics:—Tell ine not Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not To allay my rages and revenges, with Your colder reasons. - O, no more, no more! You have said, you will not grant us any thing; For we have nothing else to ask, but that Which you deny already : Yet we will ask; That #. fail in our request, the blame Ma han; upon your hardness: therefore hear us: or. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll Hear nought from Rome in private—Your request? Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment, And state of bodies would bewray what life We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself, How more unfortunate than all living women Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow ; 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, sor having bravely shed Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, I purpose not to wait on fortune, till ese wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee Rather to shew 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.
y. 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
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 shew'd; the Romans,
This we received; 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 son,
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 trip'd it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
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 sprate
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me
Like one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Shew'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,
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 shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than 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 o 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 victory 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
A mother 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
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 hast set thy mercy and thy honour At difference in thee: out of that I'll work Myself a former fortune. (A side.) (The Ladies make signs to Coriolanus.) Cor. Ay, by and by; (To 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. Scene IV.—Rome. A public Place. Enter MENENIUS and SIC INIUS. Men. See you yond' coign o' the Capitol; yond' corner-stonel Sic. Why, what of that? Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with our little finger, there is some hope the ladies of #.j his mother, may prevail with him. 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 hum is a battery. He sits in his state, 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 fo to throne 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; The plebeians have #"; your fellow-tribune, And hale him up an down; all swearing, if The Roman ladies o: comfort home, They'll give him death by inches.

Enter another Messenger. Sic. What's the news? Mess. Good news, good news;–the ladies have prevail'd, The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcins gone: A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, No, not the expulsion of the #. ic. Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?

Mess. As certain, as I know the sun is fire: Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark

tou ; [Tot. and hautboys sounded, and drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within.) The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sundance. Hark you...(Shouting again.) Men. This is good news :

I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
(Shouting and music.)

Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tidings: Accept my io. [next,

Mess. Sir, we have all Great cause to give great thanks.

Sic. They are near the city'

Mess. Almost at point to enter.

Sic. We will meet them, And help the joy. (Going.)

Enter the Ladies, acco ied by Senators, Patri-
cians, and People. #. pass over the Stage.
1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome:
Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And mo triumphant fires; strew flowers before
them :
Unshout the noise that banish’d Marcius:
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
Cry, Welcome, ladies, welcome!—
Welcome, ladies'
(A flourish with drums and trumpets.)
[Ereun.

Scene V.-Antium. A public place. Enter TULLUs AUFIDIUs, with Attendants.

Aus. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse, The city ports by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch.

[Exeunt Attendants,

Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius's Jaction.

All. Welcome!

Most welcome!
1. Con. How is it with our general?
Auf. Even so,
As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.
2 Con. Most noble sir,
If you do hold the same intent, wherein
You wish’d us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.
Auf. Sir, I cannot tell;
We of. as we do find the people. ..
3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst
'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
Auf. I know it;
And . pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Minehonour for his truth: Who being so heighten’d,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow’d his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,
- * That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for’t, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he #!'. all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.

1 Con. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd For no less spoil, than glory,< Auf. There was it;For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. At a few drops of women's rheum, which are As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour Of our great action: Therefore shall he die, And ††. me in his fall. But, hark' (Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the people.) 1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise. Jon. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their |. throats tear, With giving him glory. 3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body. uf. Say no more; Here come the lords.

Enter the Lords of the City.

Lords. You are most welcome home.

Auf. I have not deserv'd it; But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd What I have written to you:

Lords. We have.

1 Lord. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think, Might have found easy fines; but there to end, Where he was to begin; and give away The benefit of our levies, answering us With our own charge; making a treaty, where There was a yielding; This admits no excuse.

Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.

Enter Coriol ANUs, with drums and colours; a crowd of Citizens with him.

Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier; No more infected with my country's love, Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting Under your great command. You are to know, That prosperously I have attempted, and With bloody passage led your wars, even to The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought

home,

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver,
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble lords;
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor –How now?—

uf. Ay, traitor, Marcius. Cor. Marcius ! Auf. *: Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think

I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli ?—
You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome
(I say, your city,) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o'the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;

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Ha! Auf. No more. Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!— Pardon me, lords, ’tis the first time that ever I was o scold. Your judgments, my grave ords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion (Who wears my stripes impress'd on him; that must bear My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust The lie unto him. 1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.-Boy!, False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, ’tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli: Alone I did it.—Boy! Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, wij, was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? Con. Let him die for’t. (Several speak at once.) Cit.(Speaking promiscuously.) Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son;–my daughter; W. killed my cousin Marcus;–he killed my fa. ther.— 2 Lord. Peace, ho;—no outrage;—peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth. His last offence to us Shall have judicious hearing.—Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace. O, that I had him,

or.

With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,

To use my lawful sword!

Auf. Insolent villain!

Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.

(Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and

kill Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him.)

Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold.

f". My noble masters, hear me speak.

1 Lor

d. O Tullus, 2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.—Masters all, be quiet;

Put up your swords. s rage,

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure Your heaviest censure.

1 Lord. Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most noble corse, that ever herald l)id follow to his urn.

2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it.

Auf. My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow.—Take him up:— Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be oneBeat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes.—Though in this city he Hath widow’d and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory.— Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus.

A dead march sounded.

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Scene,—During a great part of the Play, at Rome; afterwards at Sardis; and near Philippi.

ACT I. SCENE I.—Rome. A Street.

Enter Flavius, MARUllus, and a Rabble of Citizens.

Flav. o home, you idle creatures, get you ome; Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk, Upon a labouring day, without the sign §. rofession?—Speak, what trade art thou? 1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter. Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on?— You, sir; what trade are you? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. . [directly. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me 2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, o, sir, a mender of bad soals. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow ! 2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever

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REPRESENTE D.

Flavius and MARullus, Tribunes.

ARTEMIDoRus, a Sophist of Cnidos.

A Soothsayer.

Cinna, a Poet.

Another Poet.

Lucillus, TITINIus, MEssaLA, young Cato, and Voluminius, Friends to Brutus and Cassius.

WARRo, CLITU's, CLAudius, Strato, Lucius, DAR. DANius, Servants to Brutus.

PINDARus, Serrant to Cassius.

CAlphur NIA, Wife to Caesar.

PontiA, Wife to Brutus.

Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.

trod upon neats-leather, have gone upon my handy. work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day! Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, .i. myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? at conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things | O, you hard forts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and ost Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: And, wo you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That T. trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in her concave shores? And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his j; That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone; | Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude. [fault, Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this

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