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Sic. The gods be good unto us!
Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them; and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house; The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune, And hale him up and down; all swearing, if The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, They'll give him death by inches.
Enter another Messenger.
What's the news?
Mess. Good news, good news;-—The ladies have
The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone:
Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
[Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings: next, Accept my thankfulness.
Great cause to give great thanks.
Sir, we have all
They are near the city?
We will meet them,
Mess. Almost at point to enter.
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,
A flourish with drums and trumpets.-Exeunt.
SCENE V.-Antium. A publick place.
Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS'
1 Con. How is it with our general? Auf.
As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
Most noble sir,
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.
I know it; And my pretext to strike at him admits A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heighten'd, He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, Seducing so my friends: and, to this end, He bow'd his nature, never known before But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
That I would have spoke of: Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way In all his own desires; nay, let him choose Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments In mine own person; holp to reap the fame, Which he did end all this; and took some pride To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, I seem'd his follower, not partner; and He wag'd' me with his countenance, as if I had been mercenary.
So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last,
Gave me his countenance for my wages; thought me sufficiently rewarded with good looks.
When he had carried' Rome; and that we look'd
There was it;
[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.
And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear, With giving him glory.
Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he express himself, or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Here come the lords.
Say no more;
Enter the Lords of the city.
I have not deserv'd it,
Lords. You are most welcome home.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd
And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
' might have carried.
• The point on which I will attack him with the utmost of my
3 Rewarding us with our own expenses.
With our own charge; making a treaty, where
Enter CORIOLANUS, with drums and colours; a crowd of Citizens with him.
Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier;
Than shame to th' Romans: And we here deliver,
Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor, in the highest degree He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor!-How now?—
Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name Coriolanus in Corioli?—
You lords and heads o' th' state, perfidiously
Hear'st thou, Mars?