Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, [Kneels. Kneels. Of thy deep duty more impression show Vol. Thou art my warrior; I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? Cor. The noble sister of Publicola, The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle, Cor. To shame invulnerable, and stick i' the wars Vol. Your knee, sirrah. Cor. That's my brave boy. Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you. Cor. Again with Rome's mechanics :-Tell me not Vol. O, no more, no more! You have said you will not grant us anything; And state of bodies would bewray what life Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow; Making the mother, wife, and child, to see The son, the husband, and the father, tearing Our wish, which side should win: for either thou With manacles through our streets, or else These wars determine; if I cannot persuade thee Vir. I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Vol. [Rising 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 condemn 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 receiv'd;" 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, To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate, Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life That thou restrain'st from me the duty which 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 Aufidius Were you in my stead, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was mov'd withal. Cor. I dare be sworn you were: And, sir, it is no little thing to make Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, 111 not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife! At difference in thee: out of that I'll work [Aside. [The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS. Cor. Ay, by and by; [To VOL., VER., &c. But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counterseal'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 remembers 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 repect not us. 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 blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! [Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again. Men. This is good news: I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia Cry, Welcome, ladies, welcome!- [A flourish with drums and trumpets. 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 commons' 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 Aufidius' faction. As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, And with his charity slain. 2 Con. Most noble sir, 3 Con. The people will remain uncertain whilst "Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all. Auf. I know it; And my pretext to strike at him admits A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heighten'd, He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, Seducing so my friends: and, to this end, 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 Auf. 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 look'd For no less spoil than glory,Auf. There was it;For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. At a few drops of women's rheum, 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, bark! [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. 1 Lord. We have. 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 colours; a crowd of Citizens with him. Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd 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 I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously Cor. I was forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion My beating to his grave) shall join to thrust 1 Lord. Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, Fore your own eyes and ears? 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! Cor. Auf. Insolent villain! Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! [AUFIDIUS and the Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS, who falls, and AUFIDIUS stands on him. JULIUS CESAR. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. A Poet. LUCILIUS,& friend to Brutus and Cassius. TITINIUS, a friend to Brutus and Cassius, MESSALA, a friend to Brutus and Cassius. Young CATO, a friend to Brutus and Cassius. VOLUMNIUS, a friend to Brutus and Cassius. VARRO, servant to Brutus, CLITUS, servant to Brutus. Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c. ACT I. SCENE I.-Rome. A Street. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a rabble of Citizens. 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 Flav. Hence: home, you idle creatures, get you myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make home; Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Of your profession?-Speak, what trade art thou? 1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter. 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 workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cut. A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow? 2 Oit. 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 all. 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 neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. holiday to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, And do you now put on your best attire? Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Assemble all the poor men of your sort; |