He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; Which, being advanced, declines; and then men die.

A Sennet.1 Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains, Soldiers, and Herald.

Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did

fight

Within Corioli's gates, where he hath won,
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
In honor follows, Coriolanus.

Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [florish.

All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus ! Cor. No more of this; it does offend my heart: Pray now, no more.

Com.

Cor.

Look, sir, your mother,

You have, I know, petition'd all the gods

For my prosperity.

Vol.

Nay, my good soldier, up;

My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and

By deed-achieving honor newly named,

What is it? Coriolanus, must I call thee?

But, O, thy wife,

Cor.

2

O!

[kneels.

My gracious silence, hail'

1 Florish on cornets.

2 Graceful.

Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd

home,

That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,

And mothers that lack sons.

Men.

Now the gods crown thee!

Cor. And live you yet?-O my sweet lady, par

don.

[to Valeria. Vol. I know not where to turn.- O welcome

home;

And welcome, general; and you are welcome all.
Men. A hundred thousand welcomes.

weep,

I could

And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy. Wel

come:

A curse begin at very root of his heart,

That is not glad to see thee! You are three,

That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of

men,

We have some old crab-trees here at home, that will

not

Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: We call a nettle but a nettle, and

The faults of fools but folly.

Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
The good patricians must be visited;

From whom I have received not only greetings,
But with them change of honors.

Vol.

To see inherited my very wishes,

I have lived

And the buildings of my fancy: only there
Is one thing wanting, which I doubt not, but
Our Rome will cast upon thee.

Cor.

Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way,

Than sway with them in theirs.

Com.

On, to the Capitol.

[florish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. The Tribunes remain.

Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared

sights

Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse
Into a rapture lets her baby cry,

1

While she chats him: the kitchen malkin 1 pins
Her richest lockram 2 'bout her reechy 3 neck,
Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks
windows

Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed
With variable complexions, all agreeing

In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens
Do press among the popular throngs, and puff
To win a vulgar station: our veil'd dames
Commit the war of white and damask, in

1 Wench.

3. Greasy.

2 Lockram was a kind of cheap linen. 4 Priests seldom seen.

Their nicely-gauded 1 cheeks, to the wanton spoil
Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother,
As if that whatsoever god, who leads him,
Were slily crept into his human powers,
And gave him graceful posture.

Sic.

I warrant him consul.

Bru.

On the sudden,

Then our office may,

During his power, go sleep.

Sic. He cannot temperately transport his honors From where he should begin and end; but will Lose those that he hath won.

Bru.

In that there's comfort.

Sic. Doubt not, the commoners, for whom we

stand,

But they, upon their ancient malice, will

Forget, with the least cause, these his new honors; Which that he'll give them, make as little question As he is proud to do 't.

Bru.

I heard him swear,

Were he to stand for consul, never would he
Appear i' the market-place, nor on him put
The napless vesture of humility;

Nor, showing (as the manner is) his wounds
To the people, beg their stinking breaths.

Sic.

"Tis right.

Bru. It was his word. O, he would miss it,

rather

1 Adorned.

Than carry it, but by the suit o' the gentry to him, And the desire of the nobles.

Sic.

I wish no better,

Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it
In execution.

Sic. It shall be to him then, as our good wills; 1 A sure destruction.

Bru.

So it must fall out

To him, or our authorities. For an end,

2

We must suggest the people, in what hatred
He still hath held them; that, to his power, he
would

Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders, and
Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them,
In human action and capacity,

Of no more soul, nor fitness for the world,

Than camels in their war; who have their provand3 Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows

For sinking under them.

Sic.

This, as you say, suggested

At some time when his soaring insolence

Shall teach the people, (which time shall not want,
If he be put upon't; and that's as easy

As to set dogs on sheep) will be his fire
To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze
Shall darken him for ever.

1 As our advantage requires.-M. Masɔ.
• Prompt.

For provender.