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Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, fleaing, 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
Envy'd against the people ; seeking means
To plock away their power; as now at last
Giv'n hoftile Átrokes, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
That do distribute it; in the name o' th' people,
And in the power of us the tribunes, we
(Ev'n from this inftant) banish him our city ;
in peril of precipitation
From off the rock Tarpeian, never more :
To enier our Rome's gates. I'th' people's name,
I say, it shall be so.

Áll. It shall be so, it shall be fo; 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.

Com. Let me speak:
(32) I have been consul, and can thew for Rome
Her enemies marks upon me.

I do love
My country's good, with a respect more tender,
Mire holy, and profound, than mine own life,
My de ir wife's estimate, her womb's increale,
And treasure of my loins: then if I would
Speak chat-
(32) I bave b en consul, and can shew from Rome

Her enemies marks upon me?] How, from Rome? did he receive hoftile marks from his own country? no such thing: he receiv'd them in the lervice of Rume. So, cwice in the beginning of next act, it is faid of Coriolanus;

-Had'It thou foxship
To banish him, that struck more blows for Rome,

Than thou haft fpoken words?
And again;
Good man! the wounds that he does bear for Rome!

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Sic. We know your drift. Speak what?

Brui There's no more to be said, but he is banilh'd
As enemy to the people, and his country.
It shall be so.

All. It shall be so, it shall be fo.

Cor. You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate,
As reek o'th' 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;
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 but reservation of yourselves
Still your own enemies) deliver you,
As most abated captives, to fome nation
That won you without blows. Despising then
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others.

[The people foout, and throw up their caps.
Ædile. The people's enemy is gone, is gone!
All. 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 despight
Give him deserv'd vexation. Let a guard
Attend us through the city.

All. Come, come; let's see him out at the gates; come,
The gods preserve our noble tribunes ! -come.





SCENE, before the Gates of Rome.

Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius,

Cominius, with the young Nobility of Rome.

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YOme, leave your tears : a brief farewel: the beast

With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage you were us'd
To say, extremity was the trier of spirits,
That common chances common men could bear;
That, when the sea was calm, all boats alike
Shew'd mastership in floating. Fortune's blows,
When most struck home, being gently warded, craves
A noble cunning. You were us'd to load me
With precepts, that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.

Vir. Oh heav'ns! O heav'ns!
Cor. Nay, I pr’ythee, woman

Vol. Now the red pestilence ftrike all trades in Rome,
And occupations perifh.

Cor. What! what! what!
I Mall be lov’d, when I am lack'd. Nay, mother,
Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say,

you had been the wife of Hercules,
Six of his labours you'd have done, and sav'd
Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,
Droop not; adieu : farewel, my wife!


mother! I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, Thy tears are falter than a younger man's, And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime General, I've seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld Heart-hardning spectacles. Tell these fad women, 'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes,


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As 'tis to laugh at 'em. Mother, you wot,
My hazards still have been your solace; and
Believe't not lightly, (tho' I go alone,
Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen
- Makes fear'd, and talk'd of more than feen :) your for
Will, or exceed the common, or be caught
With cautelous baits and practice.

Vol. My first son,
Where will you go? take good Cominius
With thee a while; determine on some course,
More than a wild exposure to each chance,
That starts i'th' way before thee.

Cor. O the gods !

Com. I'll follow thee a month, devife with thee
Where thou shalt reft, that thou may't hear of us,
And we of thee. So, if the time thruft forth
A cause for thy repeal, we shall not fend
O'er the vast world, to seek a fingle man;
And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
I th' absence of the needer.
Cor. Fare


Thou'st years upon thee, and thou art too full
Of the war's surfeits, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruis’d; bring me but out at gate.
Come, my fweet wife, my dearest mother, and
My friends of noble touch : when I am forth,
Bid me farewel, and smile. I pray you, come.
While I remain above the ground, you mall
Hear from me ftill, and never of me ought
But what is like me formerly.

Men. That's worthily
As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
If I could shake off but one seven years
From thefe old arms and legs, by the good gods,
I'd with thee every foot.
Cor. Give me thy hand.

Enter Sicinius and Brutus, with the Ædile.
Sic. Bid them all home, he's gone; and we'll no further.
Vex'd are the nobles, who, we fee, have fided
In his behalf,


Bru. Now we have shewn our power,
Let us feem 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.

Bru. Dismiss them home.
Here comes his mother.

Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.
Sic. Let's not meet her.
Bru. Why?
Sic. They say, she's mad.
Bru. They have ta’en note of us: keep on your way.

Vol. Oh, y' are well met:
The horded plague o'ch gods requite your love !

Men. 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?

Vir. You shall stay too :- I would, I had the power To say so to my

husband. Sic. Are you man-kind!

Vol. Ay, fool : is that a shame? note but this fool. Was not a man my father? hadft thou fox ship To banish him that struck more blows for Rome, Than thou halt spoken words

Sic. Oh blessed heav'ns!

Vol. More noble blows, than ever thou wise words,
And for Rome's good I'll tell thee what-ayet gom
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. What then?
Vir. What then? he'd make an end of thy pofterity.

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


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