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Though they themselves did suffer by 't, behold
Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see
Our tradesmen singing in their shops and going
About their functions friendly.

Bru. We stood to 't in good time. [Enter
Menenius.] Is this Menenius?

Sic. 'Tis he, 'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.

Hail, sir!

Men.

Sic.

Hail to you both!

Your Coriolanus

Is not much miss'd, but with his friends:

The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do,
Were he more angry at it.

Men. All's well; and might have been much
better, if

He could have temporized.

Sic.

Where is he, hear you?

Men. Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife

Hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four Citizens.

Citizens. The gods preserve you both!

Sic.

God-den, our neighbours.

Bru. God-den to you all, god-den to you all.
First Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children,

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Sic. This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows ran about the streets, Crying confusion.

Bru.

Caius Marcius was

A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,

O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,

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Sic. We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

Bru. The gods have well prevented it, and

Rome

Sits safe and still without him.

Ed.

Enter an Edile.

Worthy tribunes,

40

There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
Reports, the Volsces with two several powers
Are enter'd in the Roman territories,
And with the deepest malice of the war
Destroy what lies before 'em.

Men.

'Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;

Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,
And durst not once peep out.

Sic.

Of Marcius?

Come, what talk you

Bru. Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot

be

The Volsces dare break with us.

Men.

Cannot be !

We have record that very well it can,
And three examples of the like have been

&

Within my age.

But reason with the fellow,

Before you punish him, where he heard this,
Lest you shall chance to whip your information
And beat the messenger who bids beware

Of what is to be dreaded.

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Mess. The nobles in great earnestness are going
All to the senate-house: some news is come
That turns their countenances.

Sic.

'Tis this slave ;—

Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes :-his raising; 60 Nothing but his report.

Mess.

Yes, worthy sir,

The slave's report is seconded; and more,
More fearful, is deliver❜d.

Sic.

What more fearful?

Mess. It is spoke freely out of many mouthsHow probable I do not know—that Marcius, Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, And vows revenge as spacious as between

The young'st and oldest thing.

Sic.

This is most likely!

Bru. Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish

Good Marcius home again.

Sic.

Men. This is unlikely :

The very trick on 't. 70

He and Aufidius can no more atone

Than violentest contrariety.

Enter a second Messenger.

Sec. Mess. You are sent for to the senate:

A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius,

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Associated with Aufidius, rages

Upon our territories; and have already
O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took
What lay before them.

Enter COMINIUS.

Com. O, you have made good work!

Men.

What news? what news? 80

Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters and

To melt the city leads upon your pates,

To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,-
Men. What's the news? what's the news?
Com. Your temples burned in their cement, and
Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined
Into an auger's bore.

Men.

Pray now, your news?
You have made fair work, I fear me.-Pray, your

news?—

If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,

Com.

He is their god: he leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no less confidence
Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
Or butchers killing flies.

Men.

If!

You have made good work,

You and your apron-men; you that stood so much
Upon the voice of occupation and

The breath of garlic-eaters !

Com. He'll shake your Rome about your ears.

94. butterflies. The repeti

tion, otherwise irritating, of

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90

in Drayton, Mus. Elys. viii., rhyming with 'be.' L.

97. the voice of occupation, the working-men's vote.

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Before you find it other. All the regions

Do smilingly revolt; and who resist

Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,

And perish constant fools. Who is 't can blame him?

Your enemies and his find something in him.

Men. We are all undone, unless

The noble man have mercy.

Com.

Who shall ask it?

The tribunes cannot do 't for shame; the people
Deserve such pity of him as the wolf

Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they
Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him

even

As those should do that had deserved his hate,
And therein show'd like enemies.

Men.

'Tis true:

If he were putting to my house the brand

That should consume it, I have not the face
To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair

hands,

You and your crafts! you have crafted fair!

Com.

You have brought

A trembling upon Rome, such as was never

So incapable of help.

Both Tri.

Say not, we brought it. Men. How! Was it we? we loved him; but,

like beasts

And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,
Who did hoot him out o' the city.

100

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105. constant, confirmed.

112. charged, would charge.

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