SCENE I.-Rome. A public Place. Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others.

Men. No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said

Which was sometime his general; who loved him
In a most dear particular. He called me father:
But what o' that?-Go, you that banished him,
A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coyed
To hear Cominius speak, I 'll keep at home.
Com. He would not seem to know me.
Men. Do you hear?

Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name.
I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to: forbad all names:
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
Till he had forged himself a name i' the fire
Of burning Rome.

Men. Why, so; you have made good work: A pair of tribunes that have racked for Rome, To make coals cheap. A noble memory!

Com. I minded him how royal 't was to pardon When it was less expected: he replied,

It was a base petition of a state
To one whom they had punished.
Men.
Very well:
Could he say less?

Com. I offered to awaken his regard
For his private friends. His answer to me was,
He could not stay to pick them in a pile
Of noisome, musty chaff: he said 't was folly,
For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt,
And still to nose the offence.

Men.

For one poor grain or two? I am one of those: his mother, wife, his child, And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.

Sic. Nay, pray be patient: if you refuse your aid In this so never-heeded help, yet do not Upbraid us with our distress. But sure, if you Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, More than the instant army we can make, Might stop our countryman.

Men.

I'll undertake it:

I think he'll hear me :-yet to bite his lip
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.—
He was not taken well; he had not dined:
The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning; are unapt
To give or to forgive: but when we have stuffed
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll
watch him

Till he be dieted to my request,

And then I'll set upon him.

Bru. You know the very road into his kindness, And cannot lose your way.

Men.

Good faith, I'll prove him,

Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge

Of my success.

Com.

He'll never hear him. Not?

[Exit.

Sic.
Com. I tell you, he does sit in gold; his eye
Red as 't would burn Rome; and his injury
The gaoler to his pity. I kneeled before him:
"T was very faintly he said, "Rise:" dismissed me
Thus, with his speechless hand. What he would do,
He sent in writing after me: what he would not,
Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions.
So that all hope is vain,

Unless his noble mother and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.

Will no more hear from thence.

2nd Gua. You'll see your Rome embraced with fire, before

You'll speak with Coriolanus.

If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks
My name hath touched your ears :-it is Mene-
nius.

1st Gua. Be it so; go back: the virtue of your

I must have leave to pass.

1st Gua. Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here: no, though it were as virtuous to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back.

Men. Pr'y thee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary on the party of your general.

2nd Gua. Howsoever you have been his liar (as you say you have), I am one that, telling true under him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back.

Men. Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not speak with him till after dinner. 1st Gua. You are a Roman, are you? Men. I am as thy general is.

1st Gua. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the very defender of them, and in a violent popular ignorance given your enemy your shield, think to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived: therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are con

demned: our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.

Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation.

2nd Gua. Come, my captain knows you not. Men. I mean, thy general.

1st Gua. My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest 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 say an errand for you: you shall know now that I am in estimation: you shall perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus. Guess but by my entertainment with him if thou standst not i'the state of hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship and crueller in suffering. Behold now presently, and swoon for what 's to come upon thee.-The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius does! O, my son, my son! thou art preparing fire for us: look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to thee: but being assured none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out of your gates with sighs: and conjure thee to pardon Rome and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage 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 servanted to others: though I owe
My revenge properly, my remission lies

In Volcian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
Than pity note how much.-Therefore, be gone:
Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee,
Take this along: I writ it for thy sake,

[Gives a letter. And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak.-This man, Aufidius, Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'stAuf. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. 1st Gua. Now, sir, is your name Menenius? 2nd Gua. "Tis a spell, you see, of much power. You know the way home again.

1st Gua. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

2nd Gua. What cause do you think I have to swoon?

Men. I neither care for the world nor your general for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, you are so slight. 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 misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was said to, "Away!" [Exit.

1st Gua. A noble fellow, I warrant him. 2nd Gua. The worthy fellow is our general: he is the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken. [Exeunt.

Whom with a cracked heart I have sent to Rome,
Loved me above the measure of a father:
Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
Was to send him: for whose old love I have
(Though I shewed sourly to him) once more
offered

The first 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 embassies and suits,
Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.-Ha! what shout is this?
[Shout within.

Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
In the same time 't is made? I will not.-

Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA; VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS; VALERIA, and At

tendants.

My wife comes foremost: then the honoured mould
Wherein this trunk was framed; 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 obstinate.-
What is that curtesy worth; or those dove's eyes,
Which can make gods forsworn?—I melt, and

am not

I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace.-Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For that, "Forgive our Romans.”—O, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip
Hath virgined it e'er since.-You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted! Sink, my knee, i' the earth:
Of thy deep duty more impression shew
Than that of common sons.

Or if you I'd ask, remember this before,-
The things I have forsworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.

You have said you will not grant us anything:
For we have nothing else to ask but that
Which you deny already. Yet we will ask;
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 re-
quest?

Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our

raiment

And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and

sorrow:

Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, 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 lose
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
Must, 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, son,
purpose not to wait on fortune till

I

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to shew a noble grace to both parts

Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread
(Trust to 't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

The end of war's uncertain: but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ: "The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorred."-Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak

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 hast never in thy life
Shewed thy dear mother any courtesy ;
When she (poor hen !), fond of no second brood,
Has clucked thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee
That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname 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,

[Holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome: But for your son,-believe it, O believe it, Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, If not most 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 stead, would you have heard A mother less or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was moved withal.

Cor.

I dare be sworn you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
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 cause.-O mother! wife!
Auf. I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and
thy honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.

[Aside. [The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS. Cor. Ay, by-and-by:

[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c. But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counter-sealed. Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you: all the swords In Italy, and her confederate arms, Could not have made this peace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Rome. A public Place.

Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS. Men. See you yond' coign o' the Capitol : yond' corner-stone?

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say there is no hope in't our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.