SCENE, a publick Street in Rome. Cornets. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, Titus Lartius, and other Senators. CORIOLANUS. Ullus Aufidius then had made new head? Ti Lart. He had, my Lord; and that it was, which caus'd Our swifter compofition. Cor. So then the Volfcians ftand but as at first, Ready, when time fhall prompt them, to make road Upon's again. Com. They're worn, Lord conful, fo, That we fhall hardly in our ages fee Their banners wave again. Cor. Saw you Aufidius? Lart. On fafe-guard he came to me, and did curfe Against the Volfcians, for they had fo vilely Yielded the town; he is retir'd to Antium. Cor. Spoke he of me? Lart. He did, my Lord. Cor. How?-what? Lart. How often he had met you, fword to fword: That of all things upon the earth he hated Your perfon moft: that he would pawn his fortunes To hopeless reftitution, fo he might Be call'd your vanquisher. Cor. At Antium lives he? Eart. At Antium. Cor. I wish, I had a cause to feek him there; To oppofe his hatred fully.-Welcome home. [To Lartius. Enter Enter Sicinius and Brutus. Behold! thefe are the tribunes of the people, The tongues o' th' common mouth: I do despise thems For they do prank them in authority Against all noble fufferance. Sic. Pafs no further. Cor. Hah!-what is that! Bru. It will be dangerous to go on-no further. Men. The matter? Com. Hath he not pafs'd the nobles and the commons ? Bru. Cominius, no. Cor. Have I had childrens voices ? Sen. Tribunes, give way; he fhall to th' market-place. Bru. The people are incens'd against him. Sic. Stop, Or all will fall in broil. Cor. Are these your herd? Muft thefe have voices, that can yield them now, Men. Be calm, be calm. Cor. It is a purpos'd thing, and grows by plot, Suffer', and live with fuch as cannot rule, Bru. Call't not a plot; The people cry, you mock'd them; and, of late, When corn was given them gratis, you repin'd; Scandal'd the fuppliants for the people; call'd them Time-pleafers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. Cor. Why, this was known before. Bru. Not to them all. Cor. Have you inform'd them fince? Cor. You are like to do fuch bufinefs. Bru. Not unlike, each way, to better yours. Cor. Why then fhould I be conful? by yond clouds, Let Let me deferve fo ill as you, and make me Sic. You fhew too much of that, For which the people ftir; if you will pafs Men. Let's be calm. Com.The people are abus'd.--Seton;--this paltring(23) Becomes not Rome: nor has Coriolanus Deferv'd this fo dishonour'd rub, laid falsly I' th' plain way of his merit. Cor. Tell me of corn! This was my fpeech, and I will speak't again Sen. Not in this heat, Sir, now, Cor. Now as I live, I will As for my nobler friends, I crave their pardons : Which we ourselves have plow'd for, fow'd and fcatter'd, Which we have given to beggars. Men. Well, no more Sen. No more words, we beseech you Cor. How!-no more! As for my country I have fhed my blood, Not fearing outward force; fo fhall my lungs (23) The people are abus'd, fet on;] This is pointed, as if the fenfe were, the people are fet on by the tribunes: but I don't take that to be the poet's meaning. Cominius makes a fingle reflection, and then bids the train fet forward, as again afterwards; Well, on to th' market-place. And fo in Julius Cæfar; Set on, and leave no ceremony out. Which we difdain fhould tetter us, yet feek Bru. You fpeak o' th' people, as you were a god To punish, not a man of their infirmity. Sic. "Twere well, we let the people know't.. Men. What, what! his choler? Cor. Choler! were I as patient as the midnight fleep, By Jove, 'twould be my mind. Sic. It is a mind That fhall remain a poison where it is, Not poifon any further. Cor: Shall remain ? Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you Com. 'Twas from the canon. Cor. Shall! O good, but moft unwife patricians, why, You grave, but wreaklefs fenators, have you thus That with his peremptory hall, being but When, both your voices blended, the great'ft take Com. Well-On to th' market-place. Cor. Who ever gave that counfel, to give forth The The corn o' th' ftorehouse, gratis, as 'twas us’d Men. Well, well, no more of that. Cor.Though there the people had more abfolute power: I fay, they nourish'd difobedience, fed The ruin of the state. Bru. Why fhall the people give One, that fpeaks thus, their voice? Cor. I'll give my reasons, More worthy than their voice. They know, the corn Was not our recompence; refting affur'd, They ne'er did fervice for't; being preft to th' war, They would not thread the gates: this kind of fervice Call our cares, fears; which will in time break ope Men. Come, enough. Bru. Enough, with over measure. What may be fworn by, both divine and human, Of gen'ral ignorance, it muft omit Real neceffities, and give way the while T'unftable flightnefs; purpofe fo barr'd, it follows, Nothing |