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Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious, | Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too, sir,

Here are your sons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world:
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.

Cym.
Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service, that you three have done, is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
Bel.
Be pleas'd a while.-
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius:
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arvirágus,
Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand
Of his queen-mother, which for more probation,
I can with ease produce.
Cym.
Guiderius had

Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
It was a mark of wonder.
Bel.

This is he;

Who hath upon him still that natural stamp
It was wise nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym.

O, what am I

A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more :-Bless'd may you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now!-O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Imo.
No, my lord;
I have got two worlds by't.-O my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? Ŏ never say hereafter,
But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother,
When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When you were so indeed.
Cym.
Did you e'er meet?
Arv. Ay, my good lord.
Gui.

And at first meeting lov'd;
Continued so, until we thought he died.
Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd.
Cym.
O rare instinct!
When shall I hear all through? This fierce
abridgment

Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
Distinction should be rich in.-Where? how

liv'd you?

And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how first met
them?

Why fled you from the court? and whither?
These,

And your three motives to the battle, with

I know not how much more, should be demanded;
And all the other by-dependencies,

From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor
place,

Will serve our long intergatories. See,
Posthúmus anchors upon Imogen;

And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.-
Thou art my brother; So we'll hold thee ever.
[To BEL.
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve
To see this gracious season.
[me,
Cym.

All o'erjoy'd,

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For they shall taste our comfort.

My good master,

do you service.

Happy be you!

Imo.
I will yet
Luc.
Cym. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
He would have well becom'd this place, and grac'd
The thankings of a king.
Post.

I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd ;-That I was he,
Speak Iachimo; I had you down, and might
Have made you finish.

Iach.
I am down again: [Kneeling.
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, 'beseech
you,

Which I so often owe: but, your ring first;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess,
That ever swore her faith.
Post.
Kneel not to me;
The power that I have on you, is to spare you;
The malice towards you, to forgive you: Live,
And deal with others better.

Cym.
Nobly doom'd:
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.

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Sooth. Here, my good lord.
Luc.

Philarmonus,

Read, and declare the meaning.

to himself unknown, without seeking find, and
Sooth. [Reads.] "When as a lion's whelp shall,
be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when
from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches,
which, being dead many years, shall after re-
vive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly
grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries,
Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and
plenty."

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much:
The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
[To CYK.

Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer
We term it mulier; which mulier I divine,
Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipped ‡ about
With this most tender air.
Cym.
This hath some seeming.
Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point
Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen,
For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.
Cym.
My peace we will begin :-And, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar,
And to the Roman empire; promising

Well,

To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen;
Whom heavens, in justice, (both on her, and
Have laid most heavy hand.
[hers,)
Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do
tune

The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
Is full accomplished: For the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely
eagle,

The imperial Cæsar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

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A SONG,

SUNG BY GUIDERIUS AND ARVIRAGUS OVER
FIDELE, SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD.
BY MR. WILLIAM COLLINS.
To fair Fidele's grassy tomb,

Soft maids and village hinds shall bring
Each opening sweet, of earliest bloom,
And rifle all the breathing spring.
No wailing ghost shall dare appear,
To vex with shrieks this quiet grove:
But shepherd lads assemble here,

And melting virgins own their love.
No wither'd witch shall here be seen,
No goblins lead their nightly crew:
The female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress thy grave with pearly dew
The red-breast oft at evening hours
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art laid.
When howling winds, and beating rain,
In tempests shake the sylvan cell;
Or midst the chase on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell.
Each lonely scene shall thee restore;
For thee the tear be duly shed:
Belov'd, till life could charm no more;
And mourn'd till pity's self be dead.

INTRODUCTION TO CORIOLANUS.

POPE observes, in his comments-"The whole history of this piece is exactly followed, and many of the principal speeches exactly, from the Life of Coriolanus, by Plutarch."

It embraces a period of about four years, beginning with the secession to the Mons Sacer (the sacred mountain), in the year of Rome 262, and ending with the death of Coriolanus, A. v. c. 266. Malone conjectured it to have been written A.D. 1609.

THE PLOT.-The scene opens in Rome, where, on account of a dearth, a mutiny is raised by the people, under plea of provisions not being dealt out fairly to them. Tribunes are then chosen by them, who favour the enmity already existing among the multitude against Caius Marcius, who is hated for his noble ambition and his unbending demeanour towards the people; which the tribunes represent as pride, to his prejudice with the populace. During these troubles, news is brought that the Volcians are in arms, and Marcius is sent, with two other generals, against them he soon returns victorious; and, from his bravery in sacking the city of Coriol, he is surnamed Coriolanus. As a further acknowledgment of his merits, the senators and nobility appoint him consul; and, by the advice of the people, he is confirmed in that dignity; but, moved by the envy of the tribunes (Sicinius Velutus, and Junius Brutus), the people revoke their

decree. Coriolanus resists the injustice of their proceedings, and is, at last, banished as a traitor. Inflamed by the ingratitude of his country, he determines upon joining the Volcians, who are again preparing at Antium to invade the Roman territories. He is hospitably received by his inveterate enemy and rival in arms, Aufidius, general of the Volcians, with whom he is joined in the command of the invading army. His countrymen, in the utmost consternation, in vain send the friends he most loved, to sue for peace; he remains inflexible, until his wife Virgilia, his mother Volumnia, and his son, dressed in mourning garments, kneel before him, and subdue him by the voice of nature. He then prevails upon the Voleians to depart home, having made an advantageous peace with the Romans, and returns himself to Antium, with the Volcian army. Tullus Aufidius, pretending to be indignant at the peace which Coriolanus has made with Rome, forms a conspiracy against his life and honour: and, having first hired three assassins for the purpose, he accuses Coriolanus, before the nobles at Antium, of treachery. He nobly defends his reputation; but, in the midst of the uproar to which Aufidius moves the citizens, he and the murderers fall upon Coriolanus with their drawn swords, and kill him; which Aufidius afterwards excuses as the effect of passion.

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TULLUS AUFIDIUS, General of the Volcians. Lieutenant to Aufidius.

Conspirators with Aufidius.

A Citizen of Antium. Two Volcian Guards.

VOLUMNIA, Mother to Coriolanus. VIRGILIA, Wife to Coriolanus. VALERIA, Friend to Virgilia. Gentlewoman, attending Virgilia.

Roman and Volcian Senators, Patricians, Soldiers, Ediles, Lictors, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.

SCENE.-Partly in Rome; and partly in the Territories of the Volcians and Antiates.

Act First.

SCENE I.-Rome. A Street.

Enter a Company of mutinous Citizens, with Staves, Clubs, and other Weapons.

1 Cit. BEFORE we proceed any further, hear me speak.

Cit. Speak, speak. [Several speaking at once. 1 Cit. You are all resolved rather to die, than to famish?

Cit. Resolved, resolved.

Cit. Come, come.

1 Cit. Soft; who comes here?

Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA.

2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.

1 Cit. He's one honest enough; 'Would all the rest were so !

Men. What work 's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you [you. With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray 1 Cit. Our business is not unknown to the

1 Cit. First you know, Caius Marcius is chief senate; they have had inkling, this fortnight, enemy to the people.

Cit. We know 't, we know 't.

1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is 't a verdict?

Cit. No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away.

2 Cit. One word, good citizens.

i Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good: What authority surfeits on, would relieve us; If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess, they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them.-Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes:+ for the gods know, I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. [Caius Marcius? 2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Cit. Against him first; he's a very dog to the commonalty.

2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country?

1 Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for 't, but that he pays himself with being proud.

2 Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

1 Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end: though soft conscienc'd men can be content to say, it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

2 Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him: You must in no way say he is covetous.

1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o' the city is risen: Why stay we prating here? to the Capitol.

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what we intend to do, which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say, poor suitors have strong breaths; they shall know we have strong arms [honest neighbours, Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine Will you undo yourselves?

too.

1 Cit. We cannot, sir, we are undone already. Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care Have the patricians of you. For your wants, Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well Strike at the heaven with your staves, as lift them Against the Roman state; whose course will on The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs Of more strong link asunder, than can ever Appear in your impediment: For the dearth, The gods, not the patricians, make it; and Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, You are transported by calamity Thither where more attends you; and you slander The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,

When you curse them as enemies.

1 Cit. Care for us!-True, indeed!-They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers: reveal daily any wholesome act established against the rich; and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there 's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,
Or be accus'd of folly. I shall tell you
A pretty tale; it may be, you have heard it;
But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To scale 't a little more.

1 Cit. Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please you, deliver. [members

Men. There was a time when all the body's Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it :That only like a gulf it did remain

I' the midst o' the body, idle and inactive,

Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
Like labour with the rest; where the other in-
struments

Did see, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered,-

1 Cit. Well, sir, what answer made the belly? Men. Sir, I shall tell you.-With a kind of smile,

Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus,
(For, look you, I may make the belly smile,
As well as speak,) it tauntingly replied
To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +
As you malign our senators, for that
They are not such as you.

1 Cit.

Your belly's answer: What! The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye, The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter, With other muniments and petty helps In this our fabric, if that theyMen.

What then?- [then? 'Fore me, this fellow speaks!-what then? what 1 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be reWho is the sink o' the body,[strain'd, Men. Well, what then? 1 Cit. The former agents, if they did complain, What could the belly answer?

Men.

I will tell you; If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little) Patience a while, you'll hear the belly's answer. 1 Cit. You are long about it. Men.

Note me this, good friend; Your most grave belly was deliberate, Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd. "True is it, my incorporate friends," quoth he, "That I receive the general food at first, Which you do live upon and fit it is; Because I am the store-house, and the shop Of the whole body: But if you do remember, I send it through the rivers of your blood, Even to the court, the heart,-to the seat o' the brain;

And, through the cranks ‡ and offices of man, The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins, From me receive that natural competency Whereby they live: And though that all at once, You, my good friends," (this says the belly,) mark me,

1 Cit. Ay, sir; well, well. Men. "Though all at once cannot See what I do deliver out to each; Yet I can make my audit up, that all From me do back receive the flour of all, And leave me but the bran." What say you to't? 1 Cit. It was an answer: How apply you this? Men. The senators of Rome are this good belly, And you the mutinous members: For examine Their counsels, and their cares; digest things rightly,

Touching the weal o' the common; you shall find,

No public benefit which you receive,

But it proceeds, or comes, from them to you, And no way from yourselves.-What do you

think?

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Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
Lead'st first to win some vantage.-
But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs;
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle,
The one side must have bale.?-Hail, noble Mar-
cius!

Enter CAIUS MARCIUS.

Mar. Thanks.-What's the matter, you dissentious rogues.

1 Cit. We have ever your good word. Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter [curs, Beneath abhorring.--What would you have, you That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights

you,

The other makes you proud. He that trusts you, Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; Where foxes, geese: You are no surer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is, [him,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves
greatness,

Deserves your hate: and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye!
Trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind;
And call him noble that was now your hate,
Him vile, that was your garland. What's the
That in these several places of the city [matter,
You cry against the noble senate, who,
Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
Would feed on one another?-What's their
seeking?
[they say,

Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, The city is well stor❜d.

Mar. Hang 'em! They say? They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know What's done i' the Capitol : who's like to rise, Who thrives, and who declines: side factions,

and give out

Conjectural marriages; making parties strong, And feebling such as stand not in their liking, Below their cobbled shoes. They say, there's

grain enough?

Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,||
And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry ¶
With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
As I could pick ** my lance.
[suaded;

Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly perFor though abundantly they lack discretion, Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech What says the other troop? [you, They are dissolv'd: Hang 'em! They said they were an hungry; sighed forth proverbs;[eat;

Mar.

That hunger broke stone walls; that dogs must That meat was made for mouths; that the gods

sent not

Corn for the rich men only :-With these shreds They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,

And a petition granted them, a strange one, (To break the heart of generosity,

And make bold power look pale,) they threw [moon,

their caps

As they would hang them on the horns o' the Shouting their emulation ++

What is granted them?

Men.

Pity, compassion.

** Pitch.

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Mar. Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar | Which he treads on at noon: But I do wonder,
wisdoms,
His insolence can brook to be commanded
Under Cominius.

Of their own choice: One's Junius Brutus,
Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath!
The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time
Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes
For insurrections arguing.

Men.

This is strange.

Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments!

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Our musty superfluity :-See, our best elders. Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS, and SICINIUS VELUTUS.

Bru.

Fame, at the which he aims,In whom already he is well grac'd,-cannot Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by A place below the first: for what miscarries Shall be the general's fault, though he perforin To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure Will then cry out of Marcius, "O, if he Had borne the business !"

Sic. Besides, if things go well, Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall Of his demerits ‡ rob Cominius. Bru. Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius, Though Marcius earned them not; and all his faults

Come:

To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed,
In aught he merit not.
Sic.

Let's hence, and hear
How the despatch is made; and in what fashion,

1 Sen. Marcius, 'tis true, that you have lately More than in singularity, he goes told us;

The Volces are in arms.

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1 Sen. Hence! to your homes, be gone. [To the Citizens. Mar. Nay, let them follow: [thither The Volces have much corn; take these rats To gnaw their garners: *-Worshipful mutineers, Your valour puts well forth: pray follow. [Exeunt Senators, Coм., MAR., TIT., and MENEN. Citizens steal away. Sic. Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? Bru. He has no equal. [people, Sic. When we were chosen tribunes for the Bru. Mark'd you his lip, and eyes? Sic. Nay, but his taunts. Bru. Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird + Sic. Be-mock the modest moon. [the gods. Bru. The present wars devour him he is Too proud to be so valiant. [grown Sic. Such a nature, Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow

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Upon his present action. Bru.

Let's along.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Corioli. The Senate-House. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, and certain Senators. 1 Sen. So, your opinion is, Aufidius, That they of Rome are enter'd in our counsels, And know how we proceed. Auf. Is it not yours? What ever hath been thought on in this state, That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone, Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think

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I have the letter here: yes, here it is: [Reads.
They have press'd a power, but it is not known
Whether for east or west: The dearth is great;
The people mutinous: and it is rumour'd,
Cominius, Marcius, your old enemy,
(Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
These three lead on this preparation
Whither 'tis bent: most likely, 'tis for you:
Consider of it."

1 Sen. Our army's in the field: We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready To answer us.

Auf.

Nor did you think it folly, To keep your great pretences veil'd, till when They needs must show themselves; which in the hatching,

It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery, We shall be shorten'd in our aim; which was, To take in many towns, ere, almost, Rome Should know we were afoot.

2 Sen. Noble Aufidius, Take your commission; hie you to your bands: Let us alone to guard Corioli:

If they set down before us, for the remove Bring up your army; but, I think, you'll find They have not prepar'd for us.

Auf. O, doubt not that;

I speak from certainties. Nay, more,
Some parcels of their powers are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
'Tis sworn between us, we shall never strike
Till one can do no more.
All.
The gods assist you!
Auf. And keep your honours safe!
Farewell.

1 Sen.

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