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Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For that, "Forgive our Romans."-O, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now, by the jealous queen of Heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er since.-You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted: Sink, my knee, i' the earth;

[Kneels.

Kneels.

Of thy deep duty more impression show
Than that of common sons.
Vol.
O, stand up bless'd!
Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,
I kneel before thee; and unproperly
Show duty, as mistaken all this while
Between the child and parent.
Cor.
What is this?
Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.

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,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

Cor.
The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst
prove

To shame invulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!

Vol.

Your knee, sirrah.

Cor. That's my brave boy. Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you.

Cor.
I beseech you, peace:
Or, if you'd ask, remember this before,-
The things I have forsworn to grant may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanics :-Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.

Vol.

O, no more, no more!

You have said you will not grant us anything;
For we have nothing else to ask but that
Which you deny already: Yet we will ask;
That, if we fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness; therefore hear us.
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.-Your request?
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our
raiment

And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should

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
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital; thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy: For how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound? together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son
I purpose not to wait on fortune till

These wars determine; if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

Vir.
Ay, and mine,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your

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I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child's nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.

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,
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 wip'd it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorr'd." Speak to me, son
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
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!
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak you
He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the
world

More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate,

Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy;
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 unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so,
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:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.-Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child
Like him by chance:-Yet give us our despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.

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!
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 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.

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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
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes such as you
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well

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Cry, Welcome, ladies, welcome!-
All. Welcome, ladies, 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 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.

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As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, And with his charity slain.

2 Con.

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.
Sir, I cannot tell;
We must proceed as we do find the people.

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
By lack of stooping,-

Auf.
That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
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,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd 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 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.

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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

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I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?

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 whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at others.

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

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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 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,
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 Volcians 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 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!
The 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!

Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! [AUFIDIUS and the Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS, who falls, and AUFIDIUS stands on him.

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JULIUS CESAR.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

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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.
CLAUDIUS, servant to Brutus.
STRATO, servant to Brutus.
LUCIUS, servant to Brutus,
DARDANIUS, servant to Brutus.
PINDARUS, servant to Cassius.
CALPHURNIA, wife to Caesar.
PORTLA, wife to Brutus.

Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.

SCENE.-During a great part of the play at Rome: afterwards at Bardis; and near Philippi.

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,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk,
Upon a labouring day, without the sign

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,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless
things!

O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
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 Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores?

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.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this
fault,

Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your

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