Mangles true Judgment, and bereaves the State
Of that Integrity which fhould become it:
Not having the Power to do the good it would
For th' ill which doth controul it.

Bru. H'as faid enough.

Sic. H'as fpoken like a Traitor, and fhall anfwer As Traitors do.

Cor. Thou Wretch ! defpight o'er-whelm thee ! What should the People do with these bald Tribunes? On whom depending, their Obedience fails

To th' greater Bench, in a Rebellion :

When what's not meet, but what must be, was Law,
Then were they chosen; in a better Hour,

Let what is meet, be faid, it must be meet,
And throw their Power i'th' Duft.

Bru. Manifeft Treafon

Sic. This a Conful? No.

Enter an Edile.

Bru. The Ediles, ho; let him be apprehended.
Sic. Go call the People, in whofe Name my felf
Attach thee as a Traiterous Innovator:

A Foe to th' Publick Weal.
And follow to thine answer.
Cor. Hence, old Goat.

All. We'll furety him.

Com. Aged Sir, Hands off.

Obey, I charge thee,

[Laying hold on Coriolanus.

Cor. Hence, rotten thing, or I fhall shake thy Bones

Out of thy Garments.

Sic. Help me, Citizens.

Enter a Rabble of Plebeians with the Ediles:

Men. On both fides more refpec.

Sic. Here's he, that would take from you all your

Power.

Bru. Seize him, Ediles.

All. Down with him, down with him.

2 Sen. Weapons, Weapons, Weapons;

[They all bustle about Coriolanus. Tribunes, Patricians, Citizens-what hoeSicinius, Brutas, Coriolanus, Citizens.

All. Peace, peace, peace, ftay, hold, peace. VOL. IV.

Ee

Men

Men. What is about to be?I am out of BreathConfufion's near-I cannot fpeak.-You-Tribunes To th'People---Coriolanus----patience ---fpeak, good Sicinius. Sic. Hear me, People

-peace

All. Let's hear our Tribune

speak.

Peace; fpeak, fpeak,

Sic. You are at point to lofe your Liberties: Martius would have all from you; Martius, Whom late you have nam'd for Conful.

Men. Fie, fie, fie, this is the way to kindle, not to quench.

Sen. To unbuild the City, and to lay all flat.

Sic. What is the City, but the People?

All. True, the People are the City.

Bra. By the confent of all, we were established the Peo

ples Magistrates.

All. You fo remain.

Men. And fo are like to do.

Com. That is the way to lay the City flat,
To bring the Roof to the Foundation,
And bury all, which yet diftinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of Ruin.

Sic. This deferves Death.

Bru. Or let us ftand to our Authority, Or let us lofe it; we do here pronounce, Upon the part o'th'People, in whofe Power We were elected theirs, Martius is worthy Of prefent Death.

Sic. Therefore lay hold on him;

Bear him to th' Rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into Deftruation caft him.

Bru. Ediles, feize him.

All Ple. Yield, Martius, yield.

Men. Hear me a word, 'befeech you Tribunes, hear me but a word

Ediles. Peace, peace.

Men. Be that you feem, truly your Country's Friends, And temp❜rately proceed to what you would

Thus violently redress.

Bru. Sir, thofe cold ways,

That feem like prudent helps, are very poyfonous,

Where

Where the difeafe is violent. Lay hands upon him,
And bear him to the Rock.

Cor. No, I'll dye here;

[Cor. draws his Sword.

There's fome among you have beheld me fighting,
Come try upon your felves, what you have feen me.
Men. Down with that Sword, Tribunes withdraw
while.

Bra. Lay Hands upon him.

Men. Help Martins, help---you that be noble, help him young and old.

All Down with him, down with him,

Exeunt. [In this Mutiny, the Tribunes, the Adiles, and the People are beat in.

Men. Go, get you to your Houfe; be gone, away, All will be naught elfe.

2 Sen. Get you gone.

Com. Stand faft, we have as many Friends as Enemies. Men. Shall it be put to that?

Sen. The Gods forbid:

I prithee, noble Friend, home to thy Houfe,
Leave us to cure this Caufe.

Men. For 'tis a Sore upon us,

You cannot Tent your felf; begone, 'befeech you.
Com. Come, Sir, along with us.

Men. I would they were Barbarians, as they are,
Though in Rome litter'd; not Romans, as they are not,
Though calved in the Porch o'th' Capitol

Begone, put not your worthy Rage into your Tongue,
One time will owe another.

Com. On fair Ground I could beat forty of them. Men. I could my felf take up a Brace o'th' beft of them, yea, the two Tribunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond Arithmetick,
And Manhood is call'd Fool'ry when it stands
Against a falling Fabrick. Will you hence,
Before the Tag return, whofe Rage doth rend
Like interrupted Waters, and o'er-bear
What they are us'd to bear.

Men, Pray you, be gone:

I'll try whether my old Wit be in request

E e 2

With

With those that have but little; this must be patcht
With Cloth of any Colour.

Com. Nay, come away.

Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius.

I Sen. This Man has marr'd his Fortune.

Men. His Nature is too noble for the World: He would not flatter Neptune for his Trident,

Or Jove, for's power to Thunder: His Heart's his Mouth: What his Breaft forges, that his Tongue muft vent;

And being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of Death.

Here's goodly work.

2 Sen. I would they were a-bed.

Men. I would they were in Tyber.

[A noife within.

What the vengeance, could he not fpeak 'em fair?
Enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the Rabble againi

Sic. Where is this Viper,

That would depopulate the City, and be every Man himself? Men. You worthy Tribunes

Sic. He fhall be thrown down the Tarpeian Rock With rigorous Hands; he hath refifted Law,

And therefore Law fhall fcorn him further Trial

Than the feverity of the Publick Power,

Which he fo fets at nought.

1 Cit. He fhall well know the noble Tribunes are The Peoples Mouths, and we their Hands.

All. He fhall fure out.

Men. Sir, Sir.

Sic. Peace.

Men. Do not cry havock, where you should but hunt With modeft warrant.

Sic. Sir, how comes it that you have holp

To make this rescue ?

Men. Hear me fpeak; as I do know

The Conful's worthinefs, fo can I name his Faults--

Sic. Conful!-what Conful?

Men. The Conful Coriolanus.

Bru. He Conful!

All. No, no, no, no, no.

Men. If by the Tribunes leave, And yours, good People,

I may be heard, I would crave a word or two,,
The which shall turn you to no further harm,
Than fo much lofs of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then,

For we are peremptory to dispatch
This viperous Traitor; to eject him hence
Were but one Danger, and to keep him here
Our certain Death; therefore it is decreed
He dies to Night.

Men. Now the good Gods forbid,

That our Renowned Rome, whofe Gratitude
Towards her deserved Children, is enroll'd
In Jove's own Book, like an unnatural Dam
Sould now eat up her own.

Sic. He's a Disease that must be cut away.

Men, Oh, he's a Limb, that has but a Disease ;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, eafie.

What has he done to Rome, that's worthy Death?
Killing our Enemies, the Blood he hath loft
(Which I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an Ounce) he dropt it for his Country:
And what is left, to lofe it by his Country,
Were to us all that do't, and fuffer it,

A brand to th' end o'th' World.

Sic. This is clean kam.

Bru. Meerly awry:

When he did love his Country, it honour'd him.
Men. The service of the Foot,

Being once gangreen'd, is not then refpected

For what before it was

Bru. We'll hear no more,

Purfue him to his Houfe, and pluck him thence,
Left his Infection, being of a catching nature,
Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word :
This Tiger-footed-rage, when it fhall find

The harm of unskann'd fwiftnefs, will (too late)
Tye leaden pounds to's Heels. Proceed by Procefs,
Left Parties (as he is belov'd) break out,

And fack great Rome with Romans.