Com.

But, I fear,
They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
The second name of men, obeys his points
As if he were his officer :Desperation
Is all the policy, strength, and defence,
That Rome can make against them.

Enter a troop of Citizens.

Men.

Here come the clusters.
And is Aufidius with him You are they
That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at
Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming;
And not a hair upon a soldier's head,
Which will not prove a whip; as many coxcombs,
As you threw caps up, will be tumble down,
And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter;
If he could burn us all into one coal,
We have deserv'd it.

Cit. 'Faith, we hear fearful news.
1 Cit.

For mipe own part, When I said, Banish him, I said, 'twas pity.

. Cit. And so did I.

3 Cit. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very many of us : That we did, we did for the best: and though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our will.

Com. You are goodly things, you voices!
Men.

You have made Good work, you and your cry*!--Shall us to the

Capitol ?
Com. O, ay; what else?

[Ereunt Com. and Men.
Sic. Go, masters, get you home, be not dismay'd;
These are a side, that would be glad to have
This true, which they so seem to fear. Go home,
And show no sign of fear.

* Pack, alluding to a pack of hounds.

1 Cit. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. I ever said, we were i'the wrong, when we banished him. 2 Cit. So did we all. But come, let's home.

[Ereunt Citizens. Bru. I do not like this news. Sic. Nor I. Bru. Let's to the Capitol :-Would, half my

wealth Would buy this for a lie ! Sic.

Pray, let us go.

(Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

A camp; at a small distance from Rome.

Enter Aufidius, and his Lieutenant.

Auf. Do they still fly to the Roman ?

Lieu. I do not know what witchcraft's in him; but Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; And you are arken'd in this action, sir, Even by your own. Auf.

I cannot help it now; Unless, by using means, I lame the foot Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier Even to my person, than I thought he would, When first I did embrace him: Yet his vature In that's no changeling; and I must excuse What cannot be amended. Lieu.

Yet I wish, sir (I mean for your particular), you had not Join'd in commission with him : but either Had borne the action of yourself, or else To him had left it solely. Auf. I understand thee well; and be thou sure,

When he shall come to his account, he knows not
What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly,
And shows good husbandry for the Volcian state;
Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
As draw his sword: yet he hath left undone
That, which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
Whene'er we come to our account.
Lieu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry

Rome?
Auf. All places yield to him ere he sits down;
And the nobility of Rome are his;
The senators, and patricians, love him too:
The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty
To expel him thence. I think, he'll be to Rome,
As is the osprey* to the fish, who takes it
By sovereignty of nature. First he was
A noble servant to them; but he could not

Which out of daily fortune ever taints
The happy man; whether defect of judgement,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
Not to be other than one thing, not moving
From the casquet to the cushiont, but commanding

peace
Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controll'd the war; but, one of these
(As he hath spices of them all, not all,
For I dare so far free him), made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish'd : But he has a merit,
To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
Lie in the interpretation of the time:

• Ar, eagle that preys on fish.
+ Helmet.
# The chair of civil authority.

Not all in their full extent.

And power, unto itself most commendable,
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
To extol what it hath done.
One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail ;
Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do fail.
Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.

[Ereunt.

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 lov'd him
In a most dear particular. He call'd me, father:
But what o'that? Go, you that banish'd him,
A mile before his tent fall down, and kneel
The way into his mercy: Nay, if he coy'd*
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 urg'd 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 forg'd himself a name i' the fire
Of burning Rome.

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

• Condescended unwillingly.
+ Harassed by exactions.

| Memorial.

Com. I minded him, how royal 'twas to pardon
When it was less expected: He replied,
It was a bare petition of a state
To one whom they had punish'd.
Men.

Very well :
Could he say less ?

Com. I offer'd 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, 'twas folly,
For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt,
Avd 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.

No; I'll not meddle.
Sic. I pray you, go to him,
Men.

What should I do?
· Bru. Only make trial what your love can do
For Rome towards Marcius.
Men,

Well, and say that Marcius Return me, as Cominius is return'd, Unheard; what then? But as a discontented friend, grief-shot With his unkindness? Say't be so?

Yet your good will
Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
As you intended well.
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 din'd: