1

A good construction. I rais'd him, and pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth; who being fo heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing fo my friends; and to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, uníwayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his ftoutnefs

When he did ftand for conful, which he loft
By lack of stooping-

duf. That I would have fpoke of:

Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth,
Prefented to my knife his throat; I took him,
Made him joint fervant with me; gave him way
In all his own defires; nay, let him chuse
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and fresheft men; ferv'd his defignments
In mine own perfon; holpe to reap the fame,
Which he did make all his; and took fome pride
To do myself this wrong; 'till, at the last,
1 feem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.

1.Can. So he did, my Lord:

The army marvell'd at it, and, at last,

When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd
For no lefs fpoil, than glorystustni stour of
Auf. There was

(For which my finews fhall be ftretch'd upon him;
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he fold the blood and labour
Of our great action; therefore fhall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
[Drums and trumpets found, suith great houts of the people..
I Con. Your native town you enter'd like a pot,
And had no, welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noife,

2 Con. And patient fools,

Whofe children he hath flain, their bafe throats tear,
Giving him glory.

3 Con. Therefore at your vantage,

Ere

Ere he exprefs himfelf, or move the people
With what he would fay, let him feel your fword,
Which we will fecond. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury
His reafons with his body..

Auf. Say no more,

Here come the Lords.

Enter the Lords of the City.

All Lords. You're moft welcome home.
Auf. I have not deferv'd it.

But, worthy Lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you?

All. We have.

1 Lord. And grieve to hear it.

What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found eafy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin, and give away
The benefit of our levies, anfwering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding, this admits no excufe.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him..

Enter Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours; the Commons being with him.

Cor. Hail, Lords; I am return'd, your foldier; No more infected with my country's love, Than when I parted hence, but fill fubfifting Under your great command. You are to know, That profperoufly I have attempted, and With bloody paffage led your wars, even to The gates of Rome: Our fpoils, we have brought home, Do more than counterpoife, a full third part, The charges of the action. We've made peace lefs honour to the

Antiates,

With me to th' Romans and we here deliver,

Than

Subfcribed by the confuls and patricians,
Together with the feal o' th' Senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble Lords.

But

But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor!-how now!.
Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Cor. Marcius!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; doft thou think,.
I'll grace
thee with that robbery, thy ftoln name.
Coriolanus, in Corioli?
You Lords and heads o' th' ftate, perfidiously
He has betray'd your bufinefs, and given up,
For certain drops of falt, your city Rome
I fay, your city, to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and refolution, like
A twist of rotten filk, never admitting
Counsel o' th' war; but at his nurfe's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory,
That pages blush'd at him; and men of heart
Look'd wond'ring each at other.

Cor. Hear'ft thou, Mars!

Auf Name not the god, thou boy of tears!
Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more.

Cor. Measurelefs liar, thou haft made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy? O fave! Pardon me, Lords, 'tis the first time that ever I'm forc'd to feald, Your judgments, my grave Lords, Muft give this cur the lye; and his own notion, (Who wears my ftripes impreft apon him; that Muft bear my beating to his grave;) fhall join To thruft the lye unto him.

1 Lord. Peace both, and hear me speak.

Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volfcians, men and lads,
Stain all your edges in me. Boy! falfe hound!·
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-coat, I
Flutter'd your Volfcians in Corioli.

Alone I did it. Boy!

Auf. Why, noble Lords,

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,

Which was your fhame, by this unholy braggart,

'Fore

Fore your own eyes and ears?

All Con. Let him die for't.

All People. Tear him to pieces, do it presently:
He kill'd my fon, my daughter,-kill'd my coufin,-
He kill'd my father. [The Croud fpeak promiscuously.
2 Lord. Peace, no outrage-peace-
The man is noble, and his fame folds in

This orb o' th' earth; his laft offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the
peace.

Cor. O that I had him,

With fix Aufidius's, or more, his tribe,
To ufe my lawful sword-

Auf. Infolent villain!

All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.

[The Confpirators all draw, and kill Marcius, who falls, and Aufidius ftands on him.

Lords. Hold, hold, held, hold.

Auf. My noble mafters, hear me speak. 1 Lord. O Tullus-

2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed, whereat Valour will weep.

3 Lord. Tread not upon him-masters all, be quiet; Put up your fwords.

Auf. My Lords, when you fhall know (as in this rage Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honours To call me to your Senate, I'll deliver Myfelf your loyal fervant, or endure Your heavicft cenfure.

1 Lond. Bear from hence his body,

And mourn you for him.

Let him be regarded

As the most noble coarse, that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.

2 Lord. His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame:
Let's make the best of it.

Auf. My rage is gone,

And I am truck with forrow: take him up:

Help,

Help, three o' th' chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one. (42) ·
Beat thou the drum, that it fpeak mournfully:
Trail your fteel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he fhall have a noble memory.

[Exeunt,bearing the body of Marcius. Adead march founded

(42) Help, three o' th' chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one.]

Not one of the three, but one to affift them: he would make the fourth man. So, in the conclufion of Hamletz

-Let four captains

Bear Hamlet like a foldier to the stage 3

The End of the SixTH Volume.