This morning, for ten thousand of your throats [Shouting and Musick. Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings: next, Accept my thankfulness. Mess. Great cause to give great thanks. Sic. Sir, we have all They are near the city? We will meet them, [Going. Mess. Almost at point to enter. Sic. And help the joy. Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Patricians, and People. They pass over the Stage. 1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome : Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, And make 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! Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Intends to appear before the people, hoping [Exeunt Attendants. Enter Three or Four Conspirators of Aufidius' Faction. Most welcome! Even so, 1 Con. How is it with our general? If 2 Con. you Most noble sir, 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 must proceed, 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. A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd Seducing so my friends: and, to this end, He bow'd his nature, never known before 3 Con. Sir, his stoutness, When he did stand for consul, which he lost Auf. That I would have spoke of: Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; In mine own person; holp to reap the fame, I seem'd his follower, not partner; and 1 Con. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, Auf. There was it; For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. At a few drops of women's rheum, which are [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. 2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base 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, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury Auf. Here come the lords. Say no more; 5 He wag'd me with his countenance,] This is obscure. The meaning, I think, is, he prescribed to me with an air of authority, and gave me his countenance for my wages; thought me sufficiently rewarded with good looks. JOHNson. 6 For which my sinews shall be stretch'd-] This is the point on which I will attack him with my utmost abilities. 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 Lords. 1 Lord. We have. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think, The benefit of our levies, answering us Enter CORIOLANUS, with Drums and Colours; a Crowd of Citizens with him. Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier; Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, 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. 7 answering us With our own charge;] That is, rewarding us with our own expences; making the cost of war its recompence. Cor. Traitor!- How now? Auf. Cor. Ay, traitor, Marcius. Auf. Ay, 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 Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars? Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears, Cor. Auf. No more. 9 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 Ha! I was forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, 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, -Boy! For certain drops of salt,] For certain tears. 9 Auf. No more.] By these words Aufidius does not mean to put a stop to the altercation; but to tell Coriolanus that he was no more than a "boy of tears." |