Vir.

Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner | This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
March to assault thy country, than to tread, But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
(Trust to't, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's Does reason our petition with more strength
That brought thee to this world. [womb, Than thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go:
Ay, and on mine, This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your His wife is in Corioli, and his child
Living to time.
[name Like him by chance:-Yet give us our des
Boy.
He shall not tread on me; I am hush'd until our city be afire, [patch:
I'll run away, till I am bigger, but then I'll And then I'll speak a little.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be, [fight.
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.
[Rising.
Vol.
Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volces whom you serve, you might con-
demn us,

As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say, This mercy we have show'd; the
Romans,

This we received; and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd,
For making up this peace! Thou know'st,
great son,

The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ,-The man was
noble,

But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name re
mains

[me, son: Speak to of honour,

To the ensuing age, abhorr'd.
Thou hast affected the fine strains
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not
speak?

you:

Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak [boy: He cares not for your weeping-Speak thou, Perhaps, thy childishness will move him more Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the world

[me prate

More bound to his mother; yet here he lets
Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy; [life
When she (poor hen!) fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's un-
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so, [just,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague
thee,

That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our
knees,

To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers, Down; an end:
This is the last;-So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold

us:

• The refinements.

Cor.
O mother, mother!
[Holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, silent.
What have you done? Behold the heavens
do ope,

The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome:
But, for your son,-believe it, O, believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come:→→
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Au-
fidius,
[heard
Were you in my stead, say, would you have
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was moved withal.

Cor.
I dare be sworn you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing, to make [sir,
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good
What peace you'll make, advise me: For my
part,

[you, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife! Auf. I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.

[Aside.
[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS.
Cor.
Ay, by and by;

[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c.
But we will drink together: and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you: all the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Rome. A Public Place.
Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS.
Men. See you yond' coign+ o'the Capitol:
yond' corner stone?

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.

Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon; he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more re-
Stay but for it.

+ Angle.

members his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state*, as a thing made+ for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in. Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them; and he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to

your house;

The plebeians have got your fellow tribune,
And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.

Enter another Messenger.

Sic.
What's the news?
Mess. Good news, good news;-The ladies
have prevail'd,

The Volces are dislodged, and Marcius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
Sic.
Friend,
Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt

of it?

Ne'er through an arch so hurried the
As the recomforted through the gates.

hark you:

[tide, blown

Why,

[Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and
Drums beaten, all together. Shout
ing also within.

The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Ro-
Make the sun dance. Hark you! [mans,
[Shouting again.
Men.
This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you, [to-day;
A sea and land full: You have prayed well
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats,
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they
joy!
[Shouting and Music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tid-
Accept my thankfulness. [ings; next,
Mess.
Sir, we have all
Great cause to give great thanks.
Sic.
They are near the city?
Mess. Almost at point to enter.
Sic.

And help the joy.

• Chair of state.

We will meet them,
[Going.

+ To resemble.

Welcome!

[A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt, SCENE V. Antium. A Public Place. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs and in the commous' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse, The city ports by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants. Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufi dius' Faction.

Most welcome!

Most noble sir,
If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.
Auf.

whilst

We must proceed, as we do find the people.
Sir, I cannot tell;
3 Con. The people will remain uncertain,
Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of
[either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
Auf.
And my pretext to strike at him admits
I know it;
A good construction. I raised him, and I
pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so
[heightened,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flat-
Seducing so my friends: and to this end, [tery,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.

3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Auf.
That I would have spoke of:
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires: nay, let him choose
Out of my files his projects to accomplish,[ments
My best and freshest men; served his design.
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last. [pride
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
Gates.

+ Recall.

|| Helped.

He waged me with his countenance*, as if

I had been mercenary.
1 Con.
So he did, my lord:
The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last,
When he had carried Rome; and that we
# For no less spoil than glory,- [look'd
Auf.
There was it:-
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon
him.

At a few drops of women's rheum t, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: Therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and Trumpets sound, with
great shouts of the People.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a
post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con.
And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats
With giving him glory.

[tear,
3 Con.
Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he express himself, or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your

sword,

Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounced shall bury
His reasons with his body.
Auf.

Here come the Lords.

Say no more;

Enter the Lords of the City.
Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf.
I have not deserved it.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
What I have written to you?

Lords.

We have.

1 Lord.
And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin; and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge; making a treaty where
There was a yielding; this admits no excuse.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter CORIOLANUS, with Drums and Co-
lours; a Crowd of Citizens with him.
Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier:
-No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage, led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought

home

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made
With no less honour to the Antiates, [peace,
Than shame to the Romans: And we here de-
liver,

Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o'the senate, what
We have compounded on.
Auf.

Read it not, noble lords;

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome
(I say, your city,) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting.
Counsel o'the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roared away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.
Cor.

Hear'st thou, Mars?
Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,-
Cor.

Auf. No more ¶?

Ha!

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my

heart

Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!

Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,

Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd on him; that
must bear

My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust
The lie unto him.

1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak.
Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and
lads,
[hound!
Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That like an eagle in a dovecote, I
Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli:
Alone I did it.-Boy!
Auf.
Why, noble lords,
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy brag-
'Fore your own eyes and ears?
[gart,
Con. Let him die for't.

[Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son; -my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcus;-He killed my father.

2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage;-peace.
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o'the earth **. His last offence to us
Shall have judicious ++ hearing.-Stand, Aufi-
And trouble not the peace.
[dius,
Cor.
O, that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!
Auf.

Insolent villain !
Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
[AUFIDIUS and the Conspirators draw,
+ Tears.
People of Antium.
** His fame overspreads the world.

Thought me rewarded with good looks.

I Rewarding us with our own expenses.
No more than a boy of tears.

Drops of tears. tt Judicial.

and kill CORIOLANUS, who falls, and
AUFIDIUS stands on him.]

Lords.
Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.
1 Lord.
O Tullus.-

2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat
valour will weep.
[be quiet;
3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all,
Put up your swords.
[this rage,
Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in
Provoked by him, you cannot,) the great
danger

Which this man's life did owe you, you'll re-
joice

That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.

* Memorial. *

The tragedy of CORIOLANUS is one of the most amusing of our author's performance. The old man's merriment in Menenius; the lofty lady's dignity in Volumnia; the bridal modesty in Virgilia; the patrician and military haughtiness in Coriolanus; the plebeiar malignity and tribuuitian insolence in Brutus and Sicinius, make a very pleasing ard interesting variety; and the various revolutions of the hero's fortune fill the mind with anxious curiosity. There is, perhaps, too much bustle in the first Act, and too little in the last.JOHNSON.

SCENE I. Rome. A Street. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of Citizens.

Fla. Hence; home, you idle creatures, get
you home;

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk,
Upon a labouring day, without the sign
Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art
1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter. [thou?
Mar.Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on?-
You, sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workI am but, as you would say, a cobbler. [man, Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soals.

Mar. What trade, thou knave; thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not ont with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend

yon.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wheretore rejoice? What conquest
brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than sense.
less things!

O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and

oft

Your infants in your arms, and there have
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,

Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend Made in her concave shores? me, thou sancy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats' leather, have gone upon my handy-work.

And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone;

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude. [fault,
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this
Assemble all the poor men of your sort *;

* Rank.