Now humble as the ripeft Mulberry, That will not hold the Handling: Or fay to them, Men. This but done, Even as the fpeaks, why their Hearts were yours: Vol. Prithee now, Go and be rul'd: Altho' I know thou hadst rather Than flatter him in a Bower. Here is Cominius. Enter Cominius. Com. I have been i'th' Market-place, and Sir, 'tis fit You have ftrong Party, or defend your felf By Calmness, or by Abfence: All's in Anger. Men. Only fair Speech. Com. I think 'twill ferve, if he can thereto frame his Spirit. Vol. He muft and will: Prithee now fay you will, and go about it. Cor. Muft I go fhew them my unbarbed Sconce? Muft I with my bafe Tongue give to my noble Heart A Lie, that it must bear well? I will do't: Yet were there but this fingle Plot, to lose This Mould of Martius, they to Dust should bring it, Crm. Come, come, we'll prompt you. Vol. Ay, prithee now, fweet Son, as thou haft faid Cor. Well, I must do't:. Away my Difpofition, and poffefs me Some Some Harlot's Spirit: My Throat of War be turn'd, Val. At thy Choice then: To bg of thee, it is my more Dishonour, Do as thou lift Thy Valiantnefs was mine, thou fuck'fl it from me: Cor. Pray be content: Mother, I am going to the Market-place: Chide me no more. I'll Mountebank their Loves, I' th' way of Flattery further. Vol. Do your Will. [Exit Volumnia. Com. Away, the Tribunes do attend you: Arm your felf To anfwer mildly: For they are prepar'd With Accufations, as I hear, more ftrong Than are upon you yet. Cor. The Word is, mildly. Let them accufe me by Invention: I Will answer in mine Honour. Men. Ay, but mildly. Pray you let us go. [Exeunt. Cor. Well, mildly be it then, mildly. Enter Sicinius and Brutus. Bru. In this Point charge him home, that he affects Tyrannical Power: If he evade us there, Inforce him with his envy to the People, Was ne'er diftributed. What, will he come? Ad. He's coming. Bru. How accompanied? Æd. With old Menenius, and those Senators That always favour'd him. Sic. Have you a Catalogue Of all the Voices that we have procur'd, fet down by th' Ad. I have; 'tis ready. Sic. Have you collected them by Tribes? Ad. I have; 'tis ready. Sic. Affemble prefently the People hither, And when they hear me fay, it fhall be fo, I'th' right and ftrength o'th' Commons; be it either If I fay Fine, cry Fine; if Death, cry Death, Infifting on the old Prerogative And power i' th' truth o' th' Caufe. Ed. I will inform them. Bru. And when fuch time they have begun to cry, Let them not cease, but with a din confus'd, Inforce the prefent Execution Of what we chance to Sentence. Ad. Very well. Sic. Make them be ftrong, and ready for this hint When we shall hap to giv't them. Bru. Go about it, Put him to Choler ftreight, he hath been us'd Of Contradiction. Being once chaft, he cannot (Poll? Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with others. Sic. Well, here he comes. Men. Calmly I do beseech you. Cor. Ay, as an Hoftler, that for the poorest peice Will bear the Knave by th' Volume: Th' Honoured Gods Keep Keep Rome in Safety, and the Chairs of Juftice I Sen. Amen, Amen. Men. A noble With. Enter the Edile with the Flebeians. Sic. Draw near, ye People. Ad. Lift to your Tribunes: Audience; Peace, I fay. Cor. Firft, hear me speak, Both Tri. Well, fay: Peace, ho. Cor. Shall I be charg'd no further than this prefent? Muft all determine here? Sic. I do demand, If you fubmit you to the Peoples Voices, To fuffer lawful Cenfure for fuch Faults Cor. I am content. Men. Lo, Citizens, he fays he is content: The warlike Service he has done, confider; think Upon the Wounds his Body bears, which fhew Like Graves i' th' holy Church-yard. Cor. Scratches with Briars, Scars to move Laughter only. Men. Confider further: That when he speaks not like a Citizen, Com. Well, well, no more. Cor. What is the matter, That being paft for Conful with full Voice, I am dishonour'd, that the very hour You take it off again? Sic. Aufwer to us. Cor. Say then: 'tis true, I ought fo. Sic. We charge you, that you have contriv'd to take From Rome all fafo.a'd Office, and to wind Your Your felf unto a Power Tyrannical, For which you are a Traitor to the People. Cor. How? Traitor? Men. Nay, temperately: your Promise. Cor. The Fires i' th' loweft Hell, Fold in the People: Sic. Mark you this, People? All. To th' Rock with him. We need not put new matter to his Charge: Bru. But fince he hath ferv'd well for Rome- 'Bru. I talk of that, that know it. Cor. You? made your Mother? Men. Is this the promise that you made your Cor. I'll know no farther: Let them pronounce the fteep Tarpeian Death, Sic. For that he has (As much as in him lyes) from time to time And |