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 forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave) shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.

First Lord.

Peace, both, and hear me speak.

Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,

That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I

Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:

Alone I did it.—Boy!

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,

'Fore your own eyes and ears?

All the Conspirators. Let him die for 't.

All People. Tear him to pieces! do it presently. He killed my son :-my daughter :--he killed my cousin Marcus: he killed my father!

Second Lord. Peace, ho!-no outrage :--peace!

This man is noble, and his fame folds in

This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us

Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.

Cor.

O! that I had him,

With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,

To use my lawful sword!

Auf.

Insolent villain!

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

Lords.

[AUFIDIUS and the Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS, who falls: AUFIDIUS stands upon him.

Hold, hold, hold, hold!

O Tullus!

Auf My noble masters, hear me speak.

First Lord.

Second Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will

weep.

Third Lord. Tread not upon him. - Masters all,

quiet.—

Put up your swords.

Auf. My lords, when you shall 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

Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.

First Lord.
And mourn you for him.
As the most noble corse
Did follow to his urn.

Second Lord.

Bear from hence his body;

Let him be regarded that ever herald

His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.

Let's make the best of it.

be

Auf.

My rage is gone,

And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up :-
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully;
Trail your steel pikes.--Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.—-

Assist.

[Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march.

TITUS

ANDRONICUS.

EDITED BY

J. PAYNE COLLIER.