Bru. If it were fo

Sic. What do ye talk?

Have we not had a tafte of his Obedience?
Our Ediles fmote, our felves refifted, come-

Men. Confider this; he hath been bred i'th' Wars
Since he could draw a Sword, and is ill-school'd
In boulted Language, Meal and Bran together
He throws without diftinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him in peace,
Where he shall anfwer by a lawful Form,

In peace, to his utmost peril.

i Sen. Noble Tribunes,

It is the human way: The other course
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it

Unknown to the beginning.

Sic. Noble Menenius, be you then as the Peoples Officer. Masters, lay down your Weapons.

Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the Market-place; we'll attend you there, Where, if you bring not Martins, we'll proceed

In our first way.

Men. I'll bring him to you.

Let me defire your Company; he must come,
Or what is worft will follow.

I Sen. Pray you let's to him.

Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.

[Exeunt.

Cor. Let them pull all about mine Ears, prefent me
Death on the Wheel, or at wild Horfes heels,
Or pile ten Hills on the Tarpeian Rock,
That the Precipitation might down stretch
Below the beam of fight, yet will I still
Be thus to them.

Enter Volumnia.

Noble. You do the Nobler.

Cor. I mufe, my Mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them Woollen Vaffals, things created
To buy and fell with Groats, to fhew bare Heads
In Congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder,
When one but of my Ordinance ftood up
To speak of Peace, or War. I talk of you,

Why

Why did you wish me milder? Wou'd you have me
Falfe to my Nature? Rather fay, I play

The Man I am.

Vol. Oh, Sir, Sir, Sir.

I would have had you put your Power well or,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor. Let's go.

Vol. You might have been enough the Man you are,
With ftriving lefs to be fo. Leffer had been
The things that thwart your Difpofitions, if
You had not fhew'd them how ye were dispos'd
E'er they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter Menenius with the Senators.

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough, fomething 'too rough: You must return, and mend it.

Sen. There's no Remedy,
Unless by not fo doing, our good City
Cleave in the midft, and perish.
Vol. Pray be counsell'd;

I have a Heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a Brain that leads my ufe of Anger

To better vantage.

Men. Well faid, noble Woman:

Before he should thus ftoop to th'Heart, but that
The violent Fit o'th' Times craves it as Phyfick
For the whole State, I would put mine Armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor. What must I do?

Men. Return to th' Tribunes.

Cor. Well, what then? what then?

Men. Repent what you have spoke.

Cor. For them? I cannot do it for the Gods,

Muft I then do't to them?

Vol. You are too abfolute,

Tho' therein you can never be too Noble,

But when Extremities fpeak. I have heard you fay,
Honour and Policy, like unfever'd Friends,

I'th' War do grow together: Grant that, and tell me

Ee 4

Ir

In Peace, what each of them by th'other lose,
That they combine not there?
Cor. Tufh, tufh-

Men. A good Demand.

Vol. If it be Honour in your Wars, to seem
The fame you are not, which for your best ends
You adopt your Policy: How is it lefs or worfe
That it hall hold Companionship in Peace
With Honour, as in War; fince that to both
It stands in like request.

Cor. Why force you this?

Vol. Becaufe, that

Now it lyes you on to speak to the People:
Not by your own Inftruction, nor by the Matter
Which your Heart prompts you to, but with fuch. Words
That are but roated in your Tongue:

Tho' but Baftards, and Syllables

Of no Allowance, to your Bofom's Truth..
Now, this no more Dishonours you at all,
Than to take in a Town with gentle Words,
Which elfe would put you to your Fortune, and
The hazard of much Blood...

I would diffemble with my Nature, where
My Fortunes and my Friends at Stake, requir'd
I fhould do fo in Honour. I am in this

Your Wife, your Son: Thefe Senators, the Nobles,
And you, will rather fhew our general Lowts,
How you can frown, than fpend a Fawn upon 'em,
For the Inheritance of their Loves and Safegard
Of what that Want might ruin.

Men. Noble Lady!

Come go with us, fpeak fair: You may falve fo,
Not what is dangerous prefent, but the lofs
Of what is paft.

Vol. I prithee now, my Son,

Go to them, with this Bonnet in thy Hand,
And thus far having ftretch'd it (here be with them)
Thy Knee buffing the Stones; For in, fuch Bufinefs
Adion is Eloquence, and the Eyes of th' Ignorant
More Learned than the Ears, waving thy Head,"
Which often thus correcting, thy ftout Heart

Now

Now humble as the ripeft Mulberry,

That will not hold the Handling: Or fay to them,
Thou art their Soldier, and being bred in Broils
Haft not the foft way, which thou doft confefs
Were fit for thee to ufe, as they to claim,
In asking their good Loves, but thou wilt frame
Thy felf (forfooth) hereafter theirs so far,
As thou haft Power and Perfon.

Men. This but done,

Even as the fpeaks, why their Hearts were yours:
For they have Pardons, being ask'd, as free,
As Words to little Purpose.

Vol. Prithee now,

Go and be rul'd: Altho' I know thou hadst rather
Follow thine Enemy to a fiery Gulf,

Than flatter him in a Bower.

Here is Cominius.

Enter Cominius.

Com. I have been i'ch' Market-place, and Sir, 'tis fie You have ftrong Party, or defend your felf

By Calmness, or by Abfence: AH's in Anger.

Men. Only fair Speech.

Com. I think 'twill ferve, if he can thereto frame his Spirit.

Vol. He muft and will:

Prithee now fay you will, and go about it.

Cor. Muft I go fhew them my unbarbed Sconce? Muft I with my bafe Tongue give to my noble Heart A Lie, that it must bear well? I will do't:

Yet were there but this fingle Plot, to lofe

This Mould of Martius, they to Duft should bring it,
And throw't against the Wind. To the Market-place:
You have put me now to fuch a part, which never
I fhall discharge to th' Life.

Crm. Come, come, we'll prompt you.

Vol. Ay, prithee now, fweet Son, as thou haft faid
My Praises made thee firft a Soldier; fo

To have my Praife for this, perform a part
Thou haft not done before.

Cor. Well, I must do't:

Away my Difpofition, and poffefs me

Some

Some Harlot's Spirit: My Throat of War bê turn'd,
Which quir'd with my Drum, into a Pipe,
Small as an Eunuch, or the Virgin Voice
That Babies lulls afleep; The Smiles of Knaves
Tent in my Cheeks, and School-boys Tears take up
The Glaffes of my Sight: A Beggar's Tongue
Make motion through my Lips, and my arm'd Knees
Who bow'd but in my Stirrup, bend like his
That have receiv'd an Alms. I will not do't,
Left I furceafe to honour mine own Truth,
And by my Bodies Action, teach my Mind
A moft inherent Baseness.

Val. At thy Choice then:

To beg of thee, it is my more Difhonour,
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin, let
Thy Mother rather feel thy Pride, than fear
Thy dangerous Stoutnefs: For I mock at Death
With as big Heart as thou. Do as thou lift
Thy Valiantness was mine, thou fuck'st it from me:
But own thy Pride thy felf.

Cor. Pray be content:

Mother, I am going to the Market-place:

Chide me no more.

I'll Mountebank their Loves,
Cog their Hearts from them, and come home belov❜d
Of all the Trades in Rome. Look, I am going :
Commend me to my Wife, I'll return Conful,
Or never truft to what my Tongue can do

I' th' way of Flattery further.

Vel. Do your Will.

[Exit Volumnia.

Com. Away, the Tribunes do attend you: Arm your felf

To answer mildly: For they are prepar'd

With Accufations, as I hear, more strong

Than are upon you yet.

Cor. The Word is, mildly.

Let them accufe me by Invention: I

Will answer in mine Honour.

Men. Ay, but mildly.

Pray you let us go.

[Exeunt.

Cor. Well, mildly be it then, mildly.

Enter Sicinius and Brutus.

Bru. In this Point charge him home, that he affe&s

Tyrannical Power: If he evade us there,