de

you, when you have push'd out your gates the very fender of them, and, in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your fhield, think to front his revenges with the eafy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palfied interceffion of fuch a decay'd dotant as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with fuch weak breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd; therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution you are condemn'd, our general has fworn you out of reprieve and pardon.

MEN. Sirrah, If thy captain knew I were here, he would ufe me with estimation.

2 G. Come, my captain knows you not.

MEN. I mean, thy general.

1 G. My general cares not for you. Back, I fay, go, left I let forth your half pint of blood;-back,—that's the utmost of your having :-back.

MEN. Nay, but fellow, fellow,

Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS.

COR. What's the matter?

MEN. Now, you companion, I'll fay an errand for you; you shall know now, that I am in eftimation; you shall perceive, that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my fon Coriolanus: guefs, but by my entertainment with him, if thou ftand'ft not i' the state of hanging, or of fome death more long in fpectatorship, and crueller in fuffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. The glorious gods fit in hourly fynod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius does! O, my fon! my fon! thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to

thee: but being affured, none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out of your gates with fighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods affuage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.

COR. Away!

MEN. How! away?

COR. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs Are fervanted to others: Though I owe

My revenge properly, my remiffion lies

In Volcian breafts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness fhall poifon, rather

Than pity note how much.-Therefore, be gone.
Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than
Your gates againft my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,
Take this along; I writ it for thy fake, [Gives a letter.
And would have fent it. Another word, Menenius,

I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,

Was

the

my belov'd in Rome : yet thou behold'st

AUF. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS.

IG. Now, fir, is your name Menenius.

2 G. 'Tis a fpell, you fee, of much power: You know way home again.

1 G. Do you hear how we are fhent for keeping your greatnefs back?

2 G. What cause, do you think, I have to fwoon? MEN. I neither care for the world, nor your general : for fuch things as you, I can fcarce think there's any, you are fo flight. He that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another. Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and your mifery in

crease with your age! I fay to you, as I was said tó, Away!

1 G. A noble fellow, I warrant him.

[Exit.

2 G. The worthy fellow is our general: He is the rock, the oak not to be wind-fhaken.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Tent of CORIOLANUS. Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and Others. COR. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow Set down our hoft.—My partner in this action, You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly I have borne this business.

AUF. Only their ends

You have refpected; ftopp'd your ears against
The general fuit of Rome; never admitted
A private whisper, no, not with fuch friends.
That thought them fure of you.

COR. This laft old man,

Whom with a crack'd heart I have fent to Rome,
Lov'd me above the measure of a father;

Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
Was to fend him for whofe old love, I have
(Though I fhow'd fourly to him,) once more offer'd
The firft conditions, which they did refuse,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more; a very little

I have yielded too: Fresh embaffies, and fuits,
Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.-Ha! what fhout is this? [Shout within.
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow

In the fame time 'tis made? I will not.

Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young Marcius, VALERIA, and Attendants.

My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection!
All bond and privilege of nature, break!

Let it be virtuous, to be obftinate.—

What is that curt'fy worth? or those doves' eyes,
Which can make gods forfworn?—I melt, and am not
Of ftronger earth than others.-My mother bows;
As if Olympus to a molehill should

In fupplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an afpéct of interceffion, which

Great nature cries, Deny not.-Let the Volces
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never
Be fuch a gofling to obey inftinct; but stand,
As if a man were author of himself,

And knew no other kin.

VIRG. My lord and husband!

COR. These eyes are not the fame I wore in Rome. VIRG. The forrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think fo.

COR. Like a dull actor now,

I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full difgrace. Beft of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not fay,
For that, Forgive our Romans.-O, a kifs
Long as my exile, fweet as my revenge!
Now by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er fince. You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world

Leave unfaluted: Sink, my knee, i' the earth; [kneels.
Of thy deep duty more impreffion show

Than that of common fons.

VOL. V.

N

VOL. O, ftand up bless'd!

Whilft, with no fofter cufhion than the flint,
I kneel before thee; and unproperly
Show duty, as mistaken all this while
Between the child and parent.

COR. What is this?

Your knees to me? to your corrected fon?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the ftars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery fun;
Murd'ring impoffibility, to make

What cannot be, flight work.

VOL. Thou art my warrior;

I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
COR. The noble fifter of Publicola,

The moon of Rome; chafte as the icicle,
That's curded by the froft from pureft fnow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria!
VOL. This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

COR. The god of foldiers,

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

[kneels.

Thy thoughts with noblenefs; that thou may'st prove

To fhame unvulnerable, and ftick i' the wars

Like a great fea-mark, ftanding every flaw,

And faving those that eye thee!

VOL. Your knee, firrah.

COR. That's my brave boy.

VOL. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,

Are fuitors to you.

COR. I beseech you, peace:

Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;