The things, I have forfworn to grant, may never
Be held by you-denials. Do not bid me
Difmifs my foldiers or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanicks :-Tell me not
Wherein I feem unnatural: Defire not

To allay my rages

Your colder reafons.

VOL. O, no more, no more!

You have faid, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to afk, but that

Which
you deny already: Yet we will afk;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
COR. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request?
VOL. Should we be filent and not fpeak, our raiment,
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led fince thy exíle. Think with thyfelf,
How more unfortunate than all living women

Are we come hither: fince that thy fight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and forrow;
Making the mother, wife, and child, to fee
The fon, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy : For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound; together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lofe
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find

An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Muft, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles thorough our streets; or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, fon,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till

These wars determine: if I cannot perfuade thee
Rather to fhow a noble grace to both parts,
Than feek the end of one, thou shalt no fooner
March to affault thy country, than to tread

(Trust to't, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

VIRG. Ay, and on mine,

That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time.

Bor. He fhall not tread on me;

I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
COR. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to fee.

I have fat too long.

VOL. Nay, go not from us thus.

If it were fo, that our request did tend

To fave the Romans, thereby to destroy

[rifing.

The Volces whom you ferve, you might condemn us,
As poifonous of your honour: No; our fuit

Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May fay, This mercy we have show'd; the Romans,
This we receiv'd; and each in either fide
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be blefs'd
For making up this peace! Thou know'ft, great fon,
The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,

That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou fhalt thereby reap, is such a name,
Whofe repetition will be dogg'd with curfes ;-
Whose chronicle thus writ,-The man was noble,
But with his laft attempt he wip'd it out;
Deftroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the enfuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me, fon :
Thou haft affected the fine ftrains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air,
And yet to charge thy fulphur with a bolt

That fhould but rive an oak. Why doft not speak?
Think'ft thou it honourable for a noble man.
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, fpeak you:
He cares not for your weeping-Speak thou, boy;
Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more

Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the world
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate,
Like one i' the stocks. Thou haft never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy;

When fhe, (poor hen !) fond of no fecond brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and fafely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not fo,

Thou art not honeft; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'ft from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us fhame him with our knees.
To his furname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; An end:
This is the last ;-So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold us :
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,

But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reafon our petition with more strength
Than thou haft to deny't.-Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child

Like him by chance :-Yet give us our defpatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afirę,

And then I'll speak a little.

COR. O mother, mother!

[holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, filent,
What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
The gods look down, and this unnatural fcene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome:
But, for your fon,-believe it, O, believe it,
Moft dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not moft mortal to him. But, let it come:-
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,

I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my ftead, fay, would you have heard

A mother lefs? or granted lefs, Aufidius?

AUF. I was mov'd withal.

COR. I dare be fworn, you were;

And, fir, it is no little thing, to make

Mine eyes to fweat compaffion. But, good fir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you,
Stand to me in this caufe.-O mother! wife!

Aur. I am glad, thou haft fet thy mercy and thy ho

nour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work

Myfelf a former fortune.

[Afide.

[The ladies make figns to CORIOLANUS.

COR. Ay, by and by;

[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, Sc.

But we will drink together; and you fhall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have counter-feal'd.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deferve
To have a temple built you: all the fwords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,

Could not have made this peace.

SCENE IV. Rome. A publick Place.
Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS.

[Exeunt.

MEN. See you yond' coign o' the Capitol; yond' corner-ftone?

SIC. Why, what of that?

your

MEN. If it be poffible for you to difplace it with little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But, I fay, there is no hope in't; our throats are fentenced, and stay upon execution,

SIC. Is't poffible, that fo fhort a time can alter the condition of a man?

MEN. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

SIC. He lov'd his mother dearly.

MEN. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horfe. The tartness of his face fours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground fhrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corflet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He fits in his ftate, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids