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Whether for east, or west: The dearth is great;|
The people mutinous: and it is rumour'd,
Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,

(Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
These three lead on this preparation
Whither 'tis bent: most likely, 'tis for you:
Consider of it.
1 Sen.
Our army's in the field:
We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready
To answer us.

Auf Nor did you think it folly,
To keep your great pretences veil'd, till when
They needs must show themselves; which in the
hatching,

It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery,
We shall be shorten'd in our aim; which was,
To take in many towns, ere, almost, Rome
Should know we were afoot.

2 Sen.

Noble Aufidius,
Take your commission; hie you to your bands:
Let us alone to guard Corioli:

If they set down before us, for the remove
Bring up your army; but, I think, you'll find
They have not prepared for us.

Auf.

O, doubt not that;
I speak from certainties. Nay, more.
Some parcels of their powers are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
'Tis sworn between us, we shall never strike
Till one can do no more.
All.

The gods assist you!
Auf. And keep your honours safe!

1 Sen.

2 Sen.

All. Farewell.

Farewell. Farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE III-Rome. An apartment in Marcius' house. Enter Volumnia, and Virgilia: They

sit down on two low stools, and sew.

Vir. 'Beseech you, give me leave to retire
myself.

Vol. Indeed, you shall not.
Methinks, I hear hither your husband's drum;
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair;
As children from a bear, the Volces shunning him:
Methinks, I see him stamp thus, and call thus,-
Come on, you cowards, you were got in fear,
Though you were born in Rome: His bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes;
Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood!
Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man,
Than gilt his trophy: The breasts of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood
At Grecian swords' contending.-1'ell Valeria,
We are fit to bid her welcome. [Exit Gent.
Vir. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!
Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee,
And tread upon his neck.

Re-enter Gentlewoman, with Valeria and her
Usher.

Val. My ladies both, good day to you.
Vol. Sweet madam,-

Vir. I am glad to see your ladyship.

Val. How do you both? you are manifest housekeepers. What, are you sewing here? A fine spot,4 in good faith.-How does your little son?

Vir. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. Vol. He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his school-master.

'tis

Val. O'my word, the father's son: I'll swear, a very pretty boy. O'my troth, I look'd upon him o'Wednesday half an hour together: he has such a confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a

Vol. One of his father's moods.
Val. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child.
Vir. A crack,6 madam.

gilded butterfly; and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again; catched it again: or Vol. I pray you, daughter, sing; or express your-whether his fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did self in a more comfortable sort: If my son were so set his teeth, and tear it; O, I warrant, how he my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that ab-mammocked it! sence wherein he won honour, than in the embracements of his bed, where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way 2 when, for a day of king's entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding; I,-considering how honour would become such a person: that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir,-was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter,-I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child, than now in first seeing he had proved himself a

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Val. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon.

Vir. No, good madam; I will not out of doors.
Val. Not out of doors?
Vol. She shall, she shall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience: I will not over the threshold, till my lord return from the wars. Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably; Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.

Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither. Vol. Why, I pray you?

Vir. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. Val. You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all the yarn she spun, in Ulysses' absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would, your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.

Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

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Vir. O, good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, madam?

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it.. Thus it is:-The Volces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.

Vir. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

Vol. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.

Val. In troth, I think, she would:-Fare you well then.-Come, good sweet lady.-Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o'door, and go along

with us.

Vir. No: at a word, madam; indeed, 1 must not. I wish you much mirth.

Val. Well, then farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Before Corioli. Enter, with drum and colours, Marcius, Titus Lartius, Officers and Soldiers. To them a Messenger.

Mar. Yonder comes news:-A wager, they have

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Agreed.

Lart.
Mar. Say, has our general met the enemy?
Mess. They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.
Lart. So, the good horse is mine.
Mar.
I'll buy him of you.
Lart. No, I'll nor sell, nor give him: lend you
him, I will,

For half a hundred years.-Summon the town.
Mar. How far off lie the armies?

Mess.
Within this mile and half.
Mar. Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they

ours.

Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work;
That we with smoking swords may march from
hence,

To help our fielded2 friends!--Come, blow thy blast.
They sound a parley. Enter, on the walls, some
Senators, and others.

Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls?

1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he,
That's lesser than a little. Hark, our drums
[Alarums afar off
Are bringing forth our youth: We'll break our
walls,

Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates,
Which yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with

rushes;

They'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off;
[Other alarums.
There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes
Amongst your cloven army.

Mar.
O, they are at it!
Lart. Their noise be our instruction.-Ladders,
ho!

The Volces enter, and pass over the stage.
Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city.
Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight
With hearts more proof than shields.-Advance,
brave Titus :

(1) Short. (2) In the field of battle. (3) Having sensation, feeling.

They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,
Which makes me sweat with wrath.-Come on, my
fellows;

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volce,
And he shall feel mine edge.

Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting.
The Romans are beaten back to their trenches.
Re-enter Marcius.

Mar. All the contagion of the south light on you,
You shames of Rome! you herd of-Boils and
plagues
Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorr'd
Further than seen, and one infect another
Against the wind a mile! You souls of
geese,
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From slaves that apes would beat? Pluto and hell!
All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge
home,

Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe,
And make my wars on you: look to't: Come on;
If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
As they us to our trenches followed.

Another alarum. The Volces and Romans re-
enter, and the fight is renewed. The Volces re-
tire into Corioli, and Marcius follows them to
the gates.

So, now the gates are ope:-Now prove good
seconds:

'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,
Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.
[He enters the gates, and is shut in.
1 Sol. Fool-hardiness; not I.
2 Sol.
3 Sol.

Have shut him in.

All.

Nor I.

See, they [Alarum continues.

To the pot, I warrant him. Enter Titus Lartius.

Lart. What is become of Marcius?

All.

Slain, sir, doubtless.
1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels,
With them he enters: who, upon the sudden,
Clapp'd to their gates; he is himself alone,
To answer all the city.
Lart.
O noble fellow!
Who, sensible,3 outdares his senseless sword,
And, when it bows,4 stands up! Thou art left,
Marcius:

A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier
Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible
Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and
The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,
Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world

Were feverous and did tremble.
Re-enter Marcius bleeding, assaulted by the enemy.
1 Sol.
Look, sir.
Lart.

'Tis Marcius:
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.
[They fight, and all enter the city.
SCENE V-Within the town. A street. En-
ter certain Romans, with spoils.

1 Rom. This I will carry to Rome.

2 Rom. And I this.

3 Rom. A murrain on't! I took this for silver.
[Alarum continues still afar off.

(4) When it is bent.

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Mar.

Sir, praise me not:

My work hath yet not warm'd me: Fare you well.
The blood I drop is rather physical

Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus
I will appear, and fight.
Lart.

Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be thy page!
Mar.
Thy friend no less
Than those she placeth highest! So farewell.
Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius!- [Ex. Mar.
Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers of the town,
Where they shall know our mind. Away. [Exe.
SCENE VI-Near the camp of Cominius.

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Mar.

Let him alone,

He did inform the truth: But for our gentlemen,
The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge
The common file, (A plague!-Tribunes for them!)
From rascals worse than they.

Com.
But how prevail'd you?
Mar. Will the time serve to tell? I do not
think-
Where is the enemy? Are you lords of the field?
If not, why cease you till you are so?
Com.

Marcius,
En-We have at disadvantage fought, and did
Retire, to win our purpose.

ter Cominius and forces, retreating. Com. Breathe you, my friends; well fought, we are come off

Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,
Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,
We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck,
By interims, and conveying gusts, we have heard
The charges of our friends:-The Roman gods
Lead their successes as we wish our own;

That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering,

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Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on which side

They have plac'd their men of trust?
Com.
As I guess, Marcius,
Their bands in the vawards are the Antiates,4
of their best trust: o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.
Mar.
I do beseech you,
By all the battles wherein we have fought,
By the blood we have shed together, by the vows
We have made to endure friends, that you directly
Set me against Aufidius, and his Antiates :
And that you not delay the present; but,
Filling the air with swords advanc'd, and darts,
We prove this very hour.

Com.

Though I could wish You were conducted to a gentle bath, And balms applied to you, yet dare I never Deny your asking; take your choice of those That best can aid your action.

Mar.

Those are they
That most are willing:-If any such be here
(As it were sin to doubt,) that love this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Lesser his person than an ill report;

If any think, brave death outweighs bad life,
And that his country's dearer than himself;
Let him, alone, or so many, so minded,
Wave thus, Waving his hand.] to express his dis-
position,

And follow Marcius.

[They all shout, and wave their swords; take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps. O me, alone! Make you a sword of me? If these shows be not outward, which of you But is four Volces? None of you but is

(5) Present time.

Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
Though thanks to all, must I select: the rest
Shall bear the business in some other fight,
As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march;
And four shall quickly draw out my command,
Which men are best inclin'd.

Com.
March on, my fellows;
Make good this ostentation, and shall
you
Divide in all with us.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.-The gates of Corioli. Titus Lar-
tius, having set a guard upon Corioli, going
with a drum and trumpet toward Cominius and
Caius Marcius, enters with a Lieutenant, a party
of Soldiers, and a Scout.

Lart. So, let the ports! be guarded: keep your
duties,

As I have set them down. If I do send, despatch
Those centuries2 to our aid; the rest will serve
For a short holding: If we lose the field,
We cannot keep the town.
Lieu.
Fear not our care, sir.
Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon us.-
Our guider, come; to the Roman
conduct us.
camp
[Exeunt.

Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast, Having fully dined before.

Enter Titus Lartius, with his power, from the pursuit.

Lart.

O general, Here is the steed, we the caparison: Hadst thou beheld

Mar. Pray now, no more: my mother, Who has a charters to extol her blood, When she does praise me, grieves me. I have done, As you have done; that's what I can; induc'd As you have been; that's for my country: He, that has but effected his good will, Hath overta'en mine act. Com.

You shall not be The grave of your deserving; Rome must know The value of her own: 'Twere a concealment Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, To hide your doings; and to silence that, Which to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, Would seem but modest: Therefore, I beseech you, (In sign of what you are, not to reward What you have done,) before our army hear me. Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they

smart To hear themselves remember'd. Com.

Should they not,

SCENE VIII-A field of battle between the
Roman and the Volscian camps. Alarum. En-Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
(Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store,)

ter Marcius and Aufidius.

Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee

Worse than a promise-breaker.
Auf.

We hate alike;

Not Afric owns a serpent, I abhor
More than thy fame and envy: Fix thy foot.
Mar. Let the first budger3 die the other's slave,
And the gods doom him after !
Auf.

Halloo me like a hare.

Mar.

If I fly, Marcius, Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, And made what work I pleas'd; 'Tis not my blood, Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge, Wrench up thy power to the highest.

Auf. Wert thou the Hector, That was the whip4 of your bragg'd progeny, Thou should'st not scape me here.

[They fight, and certain Volces come to the aid of Aufidius. Officious, and not valiant-you have sham'd me In your condemned seconds.5

[Exeunt fighting, driven in by Marcius. SCENE IX-The Roman camp. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter at one side, Cominius, and Romans; at the other side, Marcius, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans.

Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,

Thou'lt not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it, Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug, I'the end, admire; where ladies shall be frighted, And, gladly quak'd,6 hear more; where the dull tribunes,

That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, Shall say, against their hearts-We thank the gods,|| Our Rome hath such a soldier!

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profane,

Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall
I'the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-fac'd soothing: When steel grows
Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars! No more, I say;
For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,
Or foil'd some debile9 wretch,--which, without note,
In acclamations hyperbolical;
Here's many else have done,-you shout me forth
As if I lov'd my little should be dieted
In praises sauc'd with lies.

Com. Too modest are you; More cruel to your good report, than grateful To us that give you truly by your patience, If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you (Like one that means his propero harm,) in manacles,

Then reason safely with you.-Therefore, be it known,

As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,

(6) Thrown into grateful trepidation.
(7) Forces.
(8) Privilege.
(9) Weak, feeble.
(10) Own.
2 Q

With all the applause and clamour of the host,
Caius Marcius Coriolanus.-
Bear the addition nobly ever!

Wash my fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city;

Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums. Be hostages for Rome. All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!

Cor. I will go wash;

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush, or no : Howbeit, I thank you I mean to stride your steed; and, at all times, To undercrest your good addition,

To the fairness of my power.

Com. So, to our tent: Where, ere we do repose us, we will write To Rome of our success.-You, Titus Lartius, Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome

The best,2 with whom we may articulate,3

For their own good, and ours.

Lart.

I shall, my lord.

I

1 Sol.

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove : pray you

:-('Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it

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SCENE X-The camp of the Volces. A flourish. Cornets. Enter Tullus Aufidius, bloody,

with two or three Soldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. "Twill be delivered back on good condition. Auf. Condition?—

I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Being a Volce, be that I am.-Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find
I'the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me;
And would'st do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat.-By the elements,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He is mine, or I am his: Mine emulation
Hath not that honour in't, it had; for where4
I thought to crush him in an equal force
(True sword to sword,) I'll potch5 at him some way;
Or wrath, or craft, may get him.
1 Sol.
He's the devil.
Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: My val-
our's poison'd,

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick nor fane, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard,6 even there
Against the hospitable canon, would I

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I

may spur on my journey.

1 Sol.

I shall, sir. [Exeunt.

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Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Men. Pray you, who does the wolf love?
Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb, indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Both Trib. Well, sir.

Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you two have not in abundance?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. Sic. Especially, in pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boasting.

how you are censured here in the city, I mean of Men. This is strange now: Do you two know us o'the right hand file? Do you?

Both Trib. Why, how are we censured? Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry?

Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well.

Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: give your disposition the reins, and be angry at your pleasure; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud?

Bru. We do it not alone, sir.

Men. I know, you can do very little alone; for your helps are many; or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infant-like, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: O, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O that you could!

Bru. What then, sir?

Men. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates (alias, fools,) as any in Rome.

Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tyber9 in't; said to be something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty, and tinder-like, upon too trivial motion; one that converses more with the buttock of the night, than

(6) My brother posted to protect him.
(7) Waited for.
(8) Back.
(9) Water of the Tyber.

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