Agreed.

"Tis done.

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 these 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 fielded friends! —33) Come, blow thy
blast.

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 retire 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-bardiness; 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, 34) outdares his senseless sword, And, when it bows, stands up! - Thou art left,

Marcius:

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:

They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, Which makes me sweat with wrath.

my fellows;

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volce,

And he shall feel mine edge.

Come on,

Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous, and did tremble.

Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy.

Within the Town. A Street.

Enter certain Romans, with Spoils.

1 Rom. This will I carry to Rome. 2 Rom. And I this.

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

Enter MARCIUS, and TITUS LARTIUS, with a
Trumpet.

Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their hours
At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,

The Romans are beaten back to their trenches.

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! [Exit MARCIUS.
Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers of the town,
Where they shall know our mind: Away. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Near the Camp of Cominius.
Enter 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,

Enter a Messenger.

May give you thankful sacrifice! Thy news?
Mess. The citizens of Corioli have issued,
And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:
I saw our party to their trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Com.
Though thou speak'st truth,
Methinks, thou speak'st not well. How long is't since?
Mess. Above an hour, my lord.

Com. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour, 36) And bring thy news so late? Mess. Spies of the Volces Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel Three or four miles about; else had I, sir, Half an hour since brought my report.

The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge
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 o'the field?
If not, why cease you till you are so?
Com.

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

Marcius, I

Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on which side They have plac'd their men of trust? Com. As I guess, Marcius, Their hands in the vaward are the Antiates, 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; 39) 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 disposition,
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
Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
Though thanks to all, must I select: 4°) 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 you shall
Divide in all with us.

SCENE VII. The Gates of Corioli.

[Exeunt.

TITUS LARTIUS, 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 centuries 41) 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 camp conduct us. [Exeunt.

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, 44) 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!

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

Com.

Should they not, 48)

Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,

And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
(Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store,) of all
The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at
Your only choice.
Mar.

I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[4 long Flourish. They all cry, Marcius! Marcius! cast up their Caps and Lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare. Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane, 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 debile wretch, which without note, Here's many else have done, you shout me forth In acclamations hyperbolical;

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 proper harm,) in manacles,
Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it
known,

Lart.

pursuit.

O general,

Here is the steed, we the caparison: 45)

Hadst thou beheld
Mar.
Pray now, no more: my mother,
Who has a charter to extol 46) 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. 47)

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. 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, 50) with whom we may articulate, 51) For their own good, and ours. Lart. I shall, my lord. Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I that now Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg Of my lord general. Com. Take it: 'tis yours. Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli, At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly: He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; But then Aufidius was within my view, And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you To give my poor host freedom.

Com.

What is't?

O, well begg'd!

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 where
I thought to crush him in an equal force,
(True sword to sword,) I'll potch at him some way;52)
Or wrath, or craft, may get him.
1 Sol.

He's the devil. Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: My valour's poison'd,

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself; 53) nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick: nor fane, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, 54) 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, 55) even there
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city;
Learn, how 'tis held; and what they are, that must
Be hostages for Rome.
1 Sol.

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended 56) at the cypress grove: I pray you,

("Tis south the city mills,) 57) bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it I may spur on my journey. 1 Sol.

I shall, sir.

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

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.

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

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

Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well.

Will you

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 pleasures; 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 infantlike, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: 0, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, 2) 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 Tyber 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, 3) than with the forehead of the morning. What I think, I utter; and spend my malice in my breath: Meeting two such weals-men as you are (I cannot call you Lycurguses,) if the drink you give me, touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot say, your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables: and though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men; yet they lie deadly, that tell, you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it, that I am known well enough too. What harm can your bisson conspectuities *) glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too?

When

Bru. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs; 5) you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, ) in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and a fosset-seller; and then rejourn the controversy of three-pence to second day of audience. you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the cholic, you make faces like mummers; set up the bloody flag against all patience; and, in roaring for a chamberpot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing: all the peace you make in their cause, is, calling both the parties knaves: You are a pair of strange ones.

Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table, than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.

Men. Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you When you speak best unto the purpose, it is

are.

not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave, as to stuff a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion; though, peradventure, some of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. Good e'en to your worships; more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.

[BRUTUS and SICINIUS retire to the back of

the Scene.

Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and Valeria, &c. How now, my as fair as noble ladies, (and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler,) whither do you follow your eyes so fast?

Vol. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go. Men. Ha! Marcius coming home?

Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.

Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee:
Hoo! Marcius coming home!
Two Ladies. Nay, 'tis true.

:

-

Vol. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for❜t. Men. So do I too, if it be not too much: Brings 'a victory in his pocket? - The wounds become him. Vol. On's brows, Menenius: he comes the third time home with the oaken garland. Men. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? Vol. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off. Men. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: an he had staid by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?")

Vol. Good ladies, let's go: Yes, yes, yes: the senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.

Val. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. Men. Wondrous? ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.

Vir. The gods grant them true!
Vol. True? pow, wow.

Men. True; I'll be sworn they are true: Where is he wounded? God save your good worships! [To the Tribunes, who come forward.] Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud. — Where is he wounded?

Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twentyfive wounds upon him.

Men. Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave: [A Shout and Flourish.] Hark! the trumpets.

Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears; Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; Which being advanc'd, declines; 8) and then men die. A Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken Garland; with Captains, Soldiers, and a Herald.

Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
Within Corioli' gates: where he hath won,
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
In honour follows, Coriolanus:

Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [Flourish,
All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
Cor. No more of this, it does offend my heart;
Pray now, no more.

Com.

Cor.

Look, sir, your mother,

You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
For my prosperity.
Vol.

O!

[Kneels,

Nay, my good soldier, up;
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
By deed-achieving honour newly nam'd,
What is it? Coriolanus, must I call thee?
But O, thy wife

Cor.
My gracious silence, hail!")
Would'st thou have laugh'd, had I come coffin'd home,
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
And mothers that lack sons.
Men.
Now the gods crown thee!
Cor. And live you yet? - O my sweet lady, pardon.
[TO VALERIA.

Vol. I know not where to turn:-O welcome home; And, welcome, general; And you are welcome all. Men. A hundred thousand welcomes: I could weep, And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy: Welcome: A curse begin at very root of his heart, That is not glad to see thee! You are three That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, We have some old crab-trees, here at home, that will not

Your hand, and yours: [To his Wife and Mother. Ere in our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited; From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings, But with them change of honours. Vol.

I have lived

To see inherited my very wishes,
And the buildings of my fancy: only there
Is one thing wanting, which, I doubt not, but
Our Rome will cast upon thee.
Cor.
Know, good mother,

I had rather be their servant in my way,
Than sway with them in theirs.
Com.

On, to the Capitol. [Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before.

The Tribunes remain. Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him; Your prattling nurse