And throw the power i' th' duft. Bru. Manifeft treafon Sic. This a Conful? no. Bru. The Ediles, ho! let him be apprehended. A foe to th' publick weal. Cor. Hence, old goat! All. We'll furety him. Obey I charge thee, [Laying hold on Coriolanus. Com. 'Hold, aged Sir,` hands off. Cor. Hence, rotten thing, or I fhall fhake thy bones Out of thy garments. Sic. Help me, citizens. SCENE II. Enter a Rabble of Plebeians with the diles. Men. On both fides more refpect. Sic. Here's he, that would take from you all your power. Bru. Seize him, Ediles. All. Down with him, down with him! 2 Sen. Weapons, weapons, weapons! [They all bustle about Coriolanus. Tribunes, Patricians, Citizens-what hoeSicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, Citizens ! All. Peace, peace, peace, ftay, hold, peace! Men. What is about to be?I am out of breath; Confufion's near. I cannot fpeak.-You Tribunes, Coriolanus, patience; fpeak, Sicinius. Sic. Hear me, people-peace. [fpeak, fpeak. All. Let's hear our Tribune: 7'peace, ho! fpeak,` Sic. You are at point to lofe your liberties: Martius would have all from you: Martius, Whom late you nam'd for Conful. Men. Fie, fie, fie, This is the way to kindle, not to quench. 6 Ag'd Sir, 7 peace; fpeak, Sen. Sen. To unbuild the city, and to lay all flat. All. True, the people are the city. Bru. By the confent of all, we were eftablish'd The people's magiftrates. All. You fo remain. Men. And fo are like to do: Cor. That is the way to lay the city flat; Sic. This deferves death. Bru. Or let us ftand to our authority, Sic. Therefore lay hold on him; Bear him to th' rock Tarpeian, and from thence Bru. Ediles, feize him. All Ple. Yield, Martius, yield. Men. Hear me one word, 'befeech". 8/you, Ye Tribunes, hear me but a word Ediles, Peace, peace. Men. Be that you feem, truly your country's friends, And temp'rately proceed to what you Thus violently redrefs. Bru. Sir, thofe cold ways, would That feem like prudent helps, are very poisonous, And bear him to the rock. Where the disease is violent. Lay hands on him, [Drawing bis fword. Cor. No, I'll die here; There's fome among you have beheld me fighting, Come try upon your felves what you have feen me. 8 you, Tribunes, [while. Men. Men. 'Help, help Martius, help, You that be noble, help him young and old. [In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ediles, and the S CE N E III. Men. Go, get you to your houfe; be gone, away, All will be naught else. 2 Sen. Get you gone, away! Com. Stand faft, we have as many friends as enemies. Sen. The Gods forbid! I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house, 2 Men. For 'tis a fore You cannot tent your felf; begone, 'befeech Com. Come, Sir, along with us. you. Men. I would they were Barbarians, as they are, 3 'Be gone, be gone, put not your worthy rage Men. Pray you, be gone: I'll try if my old wit be in request With those that have but little; this must be patcht With 3 Begone, put With cloth of any colour. Com. Come away. [Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius. SCENE 1 Sen. This man has marr'd his fortune. IV. Men. His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder: his heart's his mouth: What his breaft forges, that his tongue muft vent; And being angry, does forget that ever He heard the name of death. Here's goodly work. 2 Sen. I would they were a-bed. [A noife within. Men. I would they were in Tyber. What the vengeance, Could he not fpeak 'em fair? Enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble again. Sic. Where is this viper, That would depopulate the city, and Be every man himself? Men. You worthy Tribunes Sic. He fhall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock And therefore law fhall fcorn him further tryal Which he fo fets at nought. 1 Cit. He fhall well know the noble Tribunes are The people's mouths, and we their hands. All. He fhall, Be fure on't. Men. Sir, Sir, Sic. Peace. Men. Do not cry havock, where you should but hunt With modeft warrant.. Sic. Sir, how comes it you Have holp to make this rescue? As As I do know the Conful's worthiness, Sic. Conful!what Conful? All. No, no, no, no, no. Men. If by the Tribunes leave, and yours, good people, I may be heard, I'd crave a word or two, The which fhall turn you to no further harm, Than fo much lofs of time. Sic. Speak briefly then, For we are peremptory to dispatch This viperous traitor; to eject him hence Men. Now the good Gods forbid, Sic. He's a difeafe that must be cut away. 8 Men. Oh, he is but a limb, that has difeafe ;` What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death? A brand to th' end o'th' world. Sic. This is clean kam. Bru. Meerly awry: when he did love his country, It honour'd him. Sic. The fervice of the foot Being once gangreen'd, it is not then refpected 6 He Conful!. 7 one..old edit. Theob, emend. For 8 he's a limb, that has but a disease ; |