Into destruction cast him.

Bru.

Ediles, seize him.

Hear me one word.

Cit. Yield, Marcius, yield.

Men.

Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word,

Edi. Peace, peace.

Men. Be that you seem, truly your country's friend, And temperately proceed to what you would

Thus violently redress.

Bru.

Sir, those cold ways,

That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous Where the disease is violent :-Lay hands upon him, And bear him to the rock.

Cor.

No; I'll die here.

[Drawing his Sword.

There's some among you have beheld me fighting; Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. Men. Down with that sword;-Tribunes, withdraw a while.

Men.

Help, Marcius! help,

You that be noble; help him, young, and old!
Cit. Down with him, down with him!

[In this Mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ædiles,

and the People, are all beat in.

Men. Go, get you to your house; be gone, away, All will be naught else.

2 Sen.

Cor.

Get you gone.

Stand fast;

We have as many friends as enemies.

Men. Shall it be put to that?

1 Sen.

The gods forbid !

I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house;
Leave us to cure this cause.

Men.

For 'tis a sore upon us,

You cannot tent yourself: Begone, 'beseech you.
Com. Come, sir, along with us.

Cor. I would they were barbarians, (as they are, Though in Rome litter'd,) not Romans, (as they are

not,

Though calv'd i' the porch o'the Capitol,)—

Men.

Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
One time will owe another.

Cor.

I could beat forty of them.

Men.

Be gone;

On fair ground,

I could myself

Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two

tribunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetick; And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands Against a falling fabrick.-Will you hence, Before the tag' return? whose rage doth rend Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear

What they are used to bear.

Men.

Pray you, be gone :

I'll try whether my old wit be in request

With those that have but little; this must be patch'd

With cloth of any colour.

Com.

Nay, come away.

[Exeunt COR. COм. and others.

1 Pat. This man has marr'd his fortune.
Men. His nature is too noble for the world:

The lowest of the populace, tag, rag, and bobtail.

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for his power to thunder.

mouth :

His heart's his

What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent, And, being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death.

Here's goodly work!

2 Pat.

[A noise within.

I would they were a-bed!

Men. I would they were in Tyber!-What, the

vengeance,

Could he not speak them fair?

Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the Rabble.

Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock

With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,

And therefore law shall scorn him further trial

Than the severity of the publick power,

Which he so sets at nought.

1 Cit.

He shall well know,

Men. Do not cry, havock, where you should but

hunt

2 Be sure on't.

3 The signal for slaughter.

With modest warrant.

Sic.

Sir, how comes it, that

you

Hear me speak:

Have holp to make this rescue ?

Men.

As I do know the consul's worthiness,

So can I name his faults :

I

Sic.

Consul!-what consul?

He a consul!

Men. The consul Coriolanus.
Bru.

Cit. No, no, no, no, no.

Men. If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good

people,

may be heard, I'd crave a word or two;

The which shall turn you to no further harm,
Than so much loss of time.

Sic.

Speak briefly then;

For we are peremptory, to despatch

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, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved 4 children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a disease, that must be cut away.
Men. O, he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies? The blood he hath lost,

4 Deserving.

(Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, By many an ounce,) he dropp'd it for his country: And, what is left, to lose it by his country,

Were to us all, that do't, and suffer it,

A brand to the end o'the world.

Sic.

This is clean kam.s

Bru. Merely" awry: when he did love his country,

It honour'd him.

Men.

The service of the foot

Being once gangren'd, is not then respected

For what before it was?

Bru.

We'll hear no more :

Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.

Men.

One word more, one word.

This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find

The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will, too late, Tie leaden pounds to his heels. Proceed by process; Lest parties (as he is belov'd) break out,

And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru.

Sic. What do ye talk?

If it were so,

Have we not had a taste of his obedience?

Our Ediles smote? ourselves resisted?-Come:-
Men. Consider this ;-He has been bred i' the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him

5 Quite awry.

• Absolutely.

8 Finely sifted.

7 Inconsiderate haste.