With those that have but little; this must be patcht
With Cloth of any Colour.

Com. Nay, come away.

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius.

I Sen. This Man has marr'd his Fortune.

Men. His Nature is too noble for the World: He would not flatter Neptune for his Trident,

Or Jove, for's power to Thunder: His Heart's his Mouth: What his Breaft forges, that his Tongue muft vent;

And being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of Death.

Here's goodly work.

2 Sen. I would they were a-bed.

Men. I would they were in Tyber.

[A noife within.

What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?
Enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the Rabble again.

Sic. Where is this Viper,

That would depopulate the City, and be every Man himself? Men. You worthy Tribunes

Sic. He fhall be thrown down the Tarpeian Rock With rigorous Hands; he hath refifted Law,

And therefore Law fhall fcorn him further Trial

Than the feverity of the Publick Power,

Which he fo fets at.nought.

1 Cit. He fhall well know the noble Tribunes are The Peoples Mouths, and we their Hands.

All. He fhall fure out.

Men. Sir, Sir.

Sic. Peace.

Men. Do not cry havock, where you should but hunt With modeft warrant.

Sic. Sir, how comes it that you have holp

To make this rescue ?

Men. Hear me fpeak; as I do know

The Conful's worthinefs, fo can I name his Faults--

I may be heard, I would crave a word or two,
The which shall turn you to no further harm,
Than fo much lofs of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then,

For we are peremptory to dispatch
This viperous Traitor; to eject him hence
Were but one Danger, and to keep him here
Our certain Death; therefore it is decreed
He dies to Night.

Men. Now the good Gods forbid,

That our Renowned Rome, whofe Gratitude
Towards her deferved Children, is enroll'd
In Jove's own Book, like an unnatural Dam
Sould now eat up her own.

Sic. He's a Difeafe that must be cut away.
Men. Oh, he's a Limb, that has but a Disease ;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, eafie.

What has he done to Rome, that's worthy Death?
Killing our Enemies, the Blood he hath loft
(Which I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an Ounce) he dropt it for his Country:
And what is left, to lose it by his Country,
Were to us all that do't, and fuffer it,

A brand to th' end o'th' World.

Sic. This is clean kam.

Bru. Meerly awry:

When he did love his Country, it honour'd him.
Men. The fervice of the Foot,

Being once gangreen'd, is not then refpected
For what before it was-

Bru. We'll hear no more,

Purfue him to his Houfe, and pluck him thence,
Left his Infection, being of a catching nature,
Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word:

This Tiger-footed-rage, when it fhall find

The barm of unskann'd fwiftnefs, will (too late)
Tye leaden pounds to's Heels. Proceed by Process,
Left Parties (as he is belov'd) break out,

And fack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If it were fo

Sic. What do ye talk?

Have we not had a taste of his Obedience?
Our Ediles fmote, our selves refifted, come-

Bran together
Give me leave,
bring him in peace,

Men. Confider this; he hath been bred i'th' Wars
Since he could draw a Sword, and is ill-fchool'd
In boulted Language, Meal and
He throws without diftinction.
I'll go to him, and undertake to
Where he shall anfwer by a lawful Form,
In peace, to his utmoft peril.

I Sen. Noble Tribunes,

It is the human way: The other courfe
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic. Noble Menenius, be you then as the Peoples Officer. Mafters, lay down your Weapons.

Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the Market-place; we'll attend you there, Where, if you bring not Martins, we'll proceed

In our first way.

Men. I'll bring him to you,

Let me defire your Company; he must come,
Or what is worft will follow.

1 Sen. Pray you let's to him.

Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.

Exeunt.

Cor. Let them pull all about mine Ears, prefent me
Death on the Wheel, or at wild Horfes heels,

Or pile ten Hills on the Tarpeian Rock,
That the Precipitation might down ftretch
Below the beam of fight, yet will I still
Be thus to them.

Enter Volumnia.

Noble. You do the Nobler.

Cor. I mefe, my Mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them Woollen Vaffals, things created
To buy and fell with Groats, to fhew bare Heads
In Congregations, to yawn, be ftill, and wonder,
When one but of my Ordinance ftood up
To speak of Peace, or War. I talk of

you,

Why

Why did you wish me milder? Wou'd you have me
Falle to my Nature? Rather fay, I play
The Man I am.

Vol. Oh, Sir, Sir, Sir.

I would have had you put your Power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor. Let's go.

Vol. You might have been enough the Man you are,
With ftriving less to be fo. Leffer had been

The things that thwart your Difpofitions, if
You had not fhew'd them how ye were difpos'd
E'er they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter Menenius with the Senators.

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough, fomething too rough: You must return, and mend it.

Sen. There's no Remedy,
Ualefs by not fo doing, our good City
Cleave in the midft, and perish.
Vol. Pray be counsell'd;

I have a Heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a Brain that leads my ufe of Anger

To better vantage.

Men. Well faid, noble Woman:

Before he should thus ftoop to th'Heart, but that
The violent Fit o'th' Times craves it as Phyfick
For the whole State, I would put mine Armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor. What must I do?

Men. Return to th' Tribunes.

Cor. Well, what then? what then?

Men. Repent what you have spoke.

Cor. For them? I cannot do it for the Gods,

Muft I then do't to them?

Vol. You are too abfolute,

Tho' therein you can never be too Noble,

But when Extremities fpeak. I have heard you fay,
Honour and Policy, like unfever'd Friends,

I'th' War do grow together: Grant that, and tell me

Ee 4

In Peace, what each of them by th'other lose,
That they combine not there?
Cor. Tufh, tufh-

Men. A good Demand.

Vol. If it be Honour in your Wars, to feem
The fame you are not, which for your best ends
You adopt your Policy: How is it lefs or worfe
That it thall hold Companionship in Peace
With Honour, as in War; fince that to both
It ftands in like request.

Cor. Why force you this?

Vol. Because, that

Now it lyes you on to speak to the People:
Not by your own Inftruction, nor by the Matter
Which your Heart prompts you to, but with fuch Words
That are but roated in your Tongue:

Tho' but Baftards, and Syllables

Of no Allowance, to your Bofom's Truth.
Now, this no more Dishonours you at all,
Than to take in a Town with gentle Words,
Which elfe would put you to your Fortune, and
The hazard of much Blood.

I would diffemble with my Nature, where
My Fortunes and my Friends at Stake, requir'd
I fhould do fo in Honour. I am in this

Your Wife, your Son: Thefe Senators, the Nobles,
And you, will rather fhew our general Lowts,
How you can frown, than fpend a Fawn upon 'em,
For the Inheritance of their Loves and Safegard
Of what that Want might ruin.

Men. Noble Lady!

Come go with us, fpeak fair: You may falve fo,
Not what is dangerous prefent, but the lofs
Of what is past.

Vol. I prithee now, my Son,

Go to them, with this Bonnet in thy Hand,
And thus far having stretch'd it (here be with them)
Thy Kee buffing the Stones; For in fuch Bufinefs
A&ion is Eloquence, and the Eyes of th' Ignorant
More Learned than the Ears, waving thy Head,
Which often thus corre&ting, thy ftout Heart

Now