And Power i'th' truth o'th' Caufe.

Ed. I will inform them.

Bru. And when fuch time they have begun to cry, Let them not cease, but with a Din confus'd Inforce the prefent execution

Of what we chance to fentence.

Ed. Very well.

Sic. Make them be ftrong and ready for this hint, When we shall hap to give't them.

Bru. Go about it.

[Exit Edile.

Put him to choler ftraight; he hath been us'd
Ever to conquer, and to have his word

Of contradiction. Being once chaft, he cannot
Be rein'd again to temp'rance; then he speaks
What's in his heart; and That is there, which looks
With us to break his neck.

Enter Coriolanus, Menenius and Cominius with others.

Sic. Well, here he comes.

Men. Calmly, I do beseech you.

Cor. Ay, as an hoftler, that for the poorest piece Will bear the Knave by th' volume:

Gods

The honour'd

Keep Rome in Safety, and the Chairs of Justice

Supply with worthy men, (21) plant love amongst you, -Throng our large Temples with the fhews of peace, And not our streets with war!

1 Sen. Amen, amen!

Men. A noble wish.

(21)

·plant Love among You

Through our large Temples with the Shews of Peace,

And not our Streets with War.] Though this be the Reading of all the Copies, it is flat Nonfenfe. There is no Verb either expreft, or understood, that can govern the latter Part of the Sentence. I have no Doubt of my Emendation reftoring the Text rightly, becaufe Mr. Warburton ftarted the fame Conjecture, unknowing that I had meddled with the Paffage,

Enter the Edile with the Plebeians.

Sic. Draw near, ye People.

Ed. Lift to your Tribunes: audience; Peace, I fay.

Cor. First, hear me fpeak.

Both Tri. Well, fay: peace, ho.

Cor. Shall I be charg'd no farther than this present? Muft all determine here?

Sic. I do demand,

If you fubmit you to the People's voices,
Allow their Officers, and are content
To fuffer lawful Cenfure for fuch faults
As fhall be prov'd upon you?

Gor. I am content.

Men. Lo, Citizens, he fays, he is content:
The warlike fervice he has done, confider;
Think on the wounds his body bears, which fhew
Like Graves i'th' holy Church-yard.

Cor. Scratches with briars, fcars to move Laughter only.

Men. Confider further:

'I'hat when he speaks not like a Citizen,

You find him like a Soldier; (22) do not take
His rougher accents for malicious founds:

But, as I fay, fuch as become a Soldier.

Rather than envy, you

Com. Well, well, no more.

Cor. What is the matter,

That being paft for Conful with full voice,
I'm fo difhonour'd, that the very hour

(22)

do not take

His rougher Actions for malicious Sounds :] I have no manner of Apprehenfion how a Man's Actions can be mistaken for Words. It would be very abfurd, as well as extraordinary, were I to do a faucy Thing in Company, for the Perfon offended to tell me, Sir, you give me very impudent Language. This would be, certainly, taking Actions for Sounds: We may remember, a Roughness of Accent was one of Coriolanus's diftinguishing Characteristicks.

You

Cor. Say then: 'tis true, I ought fo.

Sic. We charge you, that you have contriv'd to take From Rome all feafon'd Office, and to wind

Your felf unto a Power tyrannical;

For which you are a traitor to the People.
Cor. How? Traitor?

Men. Nay, temperately: your promife.

Cor. The fires i'th' loweft hell fold in the people!
Call me their traitor! thou injurious Tribune!
Within thine eyes fate twenty thoufand deaths,
In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers; I would fay,
Thou lieft, unto thee, with a voice as free,
As I do pray the Gods.

Sic. Mark you this, people?

All. To th' Rock with him.

Sic. Peace:

1

We need not lay new matter to his charge:
What you have feen him do, and heard him speak,
Beating your Officers, curfing your felves,
Oppofing laws with ftroaks, and here defying
Thofe whofe great Power muft try him, even this
So criminal, and in fuch capital kind,

Deferves th' extreameft death.

Bru. But fince he hath'

Serv'd well for Rome

Cor. What do you prate of fervice?
Bru. I talk of That, that know it.

Cor. You?

Men. Is this the promise that you made your Mother? Com. Know, I pray you.

Cor. I'll know no farther:

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 faying, good morrow.

Sic. For that he has

(As much as in him lies) from time to time
Envy'd against the people; feeking means
To pluck away their Power; as now at last
Giv'n hoftile ftroaks, and that not in the prefence
Of dreaded juftice, 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 enter our Rome's Gates. I'th' People's Name,
I fay, it shall be so.

All. It fhall be fo, it fhall be fo; let him away:
He's banish'd, and it shall be so.

Com. Hear me, my Mafters, and my common FriendsSic. He's fentenc'd: no more hearing.

Com. Let me fpeak:

(23) I have been Conful, and can fhew for Rome
Her Enemies' Marks upon me. I do love

My Country's Good, with a refpect more tender,
More holy, and profound, than mine own life,
My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase,
And treasure of my loins: then if I would
Speak that

Sic. We know your drift. Speak what?

Bru. There's no more to be faid, but he is banish'd As enemy to the People and his Country.

It shall be fo.

(23) I have been Conful, and can fhew from Rome

Her Enemies Marks upon me.] How, from Rome? Did He receive hoftile Marks from his own Country? No fuch thing: He receiv'd them in the Service of Rome. So, twice in the Beginning of next Act, it is faid of Coriolanus;

Hadft Thou Foxfhip

To banish bim, that ftruck more Blows for Rome,
Than Thou baft Spoken Words?

And again;

Good Man! the Wounds that he does bear for Rome!

All.

All. It fhall be fo, it fhall be fo.

Cor. You common cry of curs, whofe breath I hate,
As reek o'th' rotten fenns; whofe loves I prize,
As the dead carcaffes 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 defpair: have the power ftill
To banish your Defenders, 'till at length,
Your ignorance (which finds not, 'till it feels;
Making but reservation of your felves
Still your own enemies) deliver you,
As most abated captives, to fome nation
That won you without blows! Defpifing then,
For you, the City, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere-

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others.
[The people fhout, and throw up their caps.
Ed. The people's enemy is gone, is gone!
All. Our enemy is banish'd; he is gone! Hoo! hoo!
Sic. Go fee him out at gates, and follow him
As he hath follow'd you; with all defpight
Give him deferv'd vexation. Let a guard
Attend us through the City.

All. Come, come; let us fee him out at the gates;

come.

The Gods preferve our noble Tribunes!

come.

[Exeunt

ACT