He could not stay to pick them, in a pile
Of noisome musty chaff. He faid, 'twas folly,
For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt
And ftill to nofe th' offence.

Men. For one poor grain

Or two? I'm one of thofe : his mother, wife,
His child, and this brave fellow, we're the grains;
You are the mufty 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 fo-never-needed help, yet do not
Upbraid's with our diftrefs. But fure if you
Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
More than the inftant army we can make,

Might ftop our country-man.

Men. No: I'll not meddle.

Sic. Pray you go to him.

Men. Why? what should I do?

リ

Bru. Only make tryal what your love can do.

For Rome, tow'rds Martius..

Men. Well, and say that Martius
Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
Unheard, but as a difcontented friend

Grief-fhot with his unkindness: and what then?!
Sic. Say it be fo; yet your good will, Menenius
Muft have the thanks of 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.
The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We powt upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we've stuff'd
Thefe pipes, and thefe conveyances of blood
With wine and feeding, we have fuppler fouls
Than in our prieft-like fafts: therefore I'll watch him
'Till he be dieted to my request,

And then I'll fet upon him.

Bru. You know the very road into his kindness,

And cannot lofe your way.

Men.

Men. Good faith, I'll prove him,

Of my fuccefs.

Com. He'll never hear him.

[Exit.

Speed how it will. You fhall ere long have knowledge

Sic. Not?

Com. I tell you, he does fit in gold, his eye'
Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury
The goaler to his pity. I kneel'd before him,'
'Twas very faintly he faid, Rife: difmifs'd me
Thus with his fpeechlefs hand. What he would do,
He fent in writing after; what he would not,
Bound with an oath, not yield to new conditions:
So that all hope is vain, unless from's mother
And wife, who (as I hear) mean to follicit him
For mercy to his country: therefore let's hence,
And with our fair intreaties hafte them on.

[Exeunt
SCENE II. The Volfcian Camp.
Enter Menenius to the Watch or Guard.

I Watch. Stay: whence are you?

2 Watch. Stand, and go back.

Men. You guard like men, 'tis well. But by your leave I am an officer of ftate, and come

To speak with Coriolanus.

1 Watch. Whence ?

Men. From Rome.

I Watch. You may not país, you must return: our GeWill no more hear from thence.

[neral

2 Watch. You'll fee your Rome embrac'd with fire, before You'll fpeak with Coriolanus.

Men. Good my friends,

If you have heard your General talk of Rome,

And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks,

My name hath touch'd your ears; it is Menenius.

Watch. Be it fo, go back; the virtue of your name

Is not here paffable.

Men. I tell thee, fellow,

Thy General my lover: I have been

The book of his good acts, whence men have read

His fame unparallel'd haply amplified :

For I have ever magnified my friends,

(Of

(Of whom he's chief) to all the fize that verity Would without lapfing fuffer: nay, fometimes, Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground

Therefore, fellow,

I've tumbled paft the throw; and in his praise
Have, almoft, ftamp'd the leafing.
I must have leave to pass.

I Watch. 'Faith, Sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf, as you have utter'd words in your own, you should not pafs here: no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chaftly. Therefore go back.

Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary of the party of your General.

2 Watch. Howfoever you have been his liar, as you fay you have ; I am one that telling true under him, must say you cannot pass. Therefore go back.

Men. I am as thy General is.

Men. Has he din'd, canft thou tell? for I would not fpek with him 'till after dinner.

I Watch. You are a Roman, are you?

1 Watch. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pufh'd out of your gates the very defender of them, and in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your fhield, think to front his revenges with the eafie groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palfied interceffion of fuch a decay' dotard as you feem 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.

I Watch. Come, my Captain knows you not.
Men. I mean thy General.

I Watch. My General cares not for you. go; left 1 let forth your half pint of blood,

moft of your having; back, back. Men. Nay, but fellow, fellow.

Enter Coriolanus with Aufidius.

Cor. What's the matter?

Back, I fay,

that's the ut

Men,

Men. Now, you companion, I'll fay an errand for you you shall know now that I am in eftimation; you shall preceive, that a jack-gardant cannot office me from my fon Coriolanus; guess by my entertainment with him, if thou ftand'ft not i'th'ftate of hanging, or of fome death more long in fpectatorship, and crueller in fuffering; behold now prefently, and fwoon for what's to come upon thee.

The glorious Gods fit in hourly fynod about thy particular profperity, 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 mov'd to come to thee; but being affured none but my self could move thee, I have been blown out of our gate with fighs, and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy petitionary countrymen. The good Gods affwage 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, remiffion lyes

In Volfcian breafts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness fhall prifon, rather

Than pity note how much. Therefore be gone
Mine ears against your fuits are stronger than
Your gates against my force. Yet for I loved thee,
Take this along; I writ it for thy fake, [Gives bim a letter,
And would have fent it. Another word, Menenius,
I will not hear thee fpeak. This man, Aufidius,
Was my belov'd in Rome; yet thou behold' ft
Auf. You keep a conftant temper.

Manent the Guard and Menenius.

[Exeunt.

★ Watch. Now, Sir, is your name Meneniuš P 2 Watch. 'Tis a spell you see of much power: you know the way home again."

Watch. Do you hear how we are fhent for keeping your Greatnels back?

2 Watch. What caufe do you think I have to fwoon ? Men. I neither care for th' world, nor your General a VOL. VII

fot

for fuch things as you, I can fcarce think there's any, y'are fo flight. He that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another: let your General do his worft. For you, be what you are, long! and your mifery encrease with your age! I fay to you, as I was faid to, Away!

Watch. A noble fellow, I warrant him. 2 Watch. The worthy fellow is our General. rock, the oak not to be wind-fhaken.

SCENE III.

Re-enter Coriolanus and Aufidius.

[Exit.

He's the

[Ex. Watch.

Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow
Set down our hoft. My partner in this action,
You must report to th' Volfcian Lords how plainly
I've born this bufinefs.

Auf. Only their ends you have refpected; stopt
Your ears against the general fuit of Rome :
Never admitted 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
(Tho' I fhew'd fow'rly to him) once more offer'd
The first conditions, which they did refufe,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more: a very little
I've yielded to. Fresh embaffie, and fuits,
Nor for the ftate, nor private friends hereafter
Will I lend ear to. Ha! what fight is this?
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
In the fame time 'tis made? I will not

Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, young Martius, with
Attendants, all in Mourning.

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

Let it be virtuous to be obftinate.

What is that curt'fie worth? or thofe dove's eyes,