Men. I paint him in the Character. Mark what Mercy his Mother fhall bring from him; there is no more Mercy in him, than there is Milk in a Male-Tyger; that shall our poor City find; and all this is long of you.

us.

Sic. The Gods be good unto us.

Men. No, in fuch a cafe the Gods will not be good unto When we banish'd him, we refpe&ted not them: And he returning to break our Necks, they refpe& not us. Enter a Messenger,

Mef. Sir, if you'd fave your Lifeiflye to your House, The Plebeians have got your Fellow-Tribune, And hale him up and down, all fwearing, if The Roman Ladies bring not Comfort home, They'll give him Death by Inches.

Enter another Messenger.

Sic. What's the News?

Mef. Good News, good News, the Ladies have prevail❜d, The Volfcies are diflodg'd, and Martius gone :

A merrier Day did never yet greet Rome,

No, not th' Expulfion of the Tarquins.

Sic. Friend, art thou certain this is true? Is't moft certain ?

Mef. 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 fo hurried the blown Tide,
As the recomforted through th' Gates. Why, hark you.
[Trumpets, Hautboys, Drums beat, all together.
The Trumpets, Sackbuts, Pfalteries and Fifes,

Tabors and Cymbals, and the fhouting Romans
Make the Sun dance. Hark you.

Men. This is good News:

I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of Confuls, Senators, Patricians,
A City full: Of Tribunes, fuch as you,

[A fhout within.

A Sea and Land full; you have pray'd well to Day:
This Morning, for ten thousand of your Throats,
I'd not have given a doit. Hark how they joy.

[Sound ftill with the Shouts.
Sic. First, the Gods blefs you for your Tidings:
Next, accept my Thankfulness.
Mef. Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks.
Sial. They are near the City?

Mef.

Mef. Almoft at point to enter.

Sic. We'll meet them, and help the Joy.

[Exeunt.

Enter two Senators, with Ladies paffing over the Stage with other Lords.

Sen. Behold our Patronefs, the life of Rome:
Call all your Tribes together, praise the Gods,
And make triumphant Fires, ftrew Flowers before them:
Unfhout the Noife that banifh'd Martius;
Repeal him with the welcome of his Mother:
Cry, welcome, Ladies, welcome.

All. Welcome Ladies, welcome.

[Exeunt.

[A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets.

Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the Lords o' th' City, I am here:
Deliver them this Paper: Having read it,
Bid them repair to th' Market-place, where I
Even in theirs, and in the Commons Ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accufe
The City Ports by this hath enter'd, and
Intends t' appear before the People, hoping
To purge himself with words. Difpatch.

Enter three or four Confpirators of Aufidius's Faction. Moft welcome.

I Con. How is it with our General ?

Auf. Even fo, as with a Man by his own Alms impoyfon'd, and with his Charity flain.

2 Con. Moft noble Sir, if you do hold the fame intent, Wherein you wifh'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 ftrike at him admits

A good Conftruction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine Honour for his Truth; who being fo heighten'd,
He water'd his new Plants with dews of Flattery,
Seducing fo my Friends; and to this end,

He

He bow'd his Nature, never known before,
But to be rough, unfwayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his Stoutnefs

When he did ftand for Conful, which he loft
By lack of stooping

Auf. That I would have spoke of:

Being banish'd for't, he came unto my Hearth,
Prefented to my Knife his Throat; I took him,
Made him joint Servant with me; gave him way
In all his own defires; nay, let him chufe
Out of my Files, his Projects to accomplish,
My best and fresheft Men; farv'd his Defignments
In mine own Perfon; hop'd to reap the Fame
Which he did make all this; and took fome Pride
To do my felf this wrong; 'till at the laft,
I feem'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 laft,
When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd
For no lefs Spoil, than Glory-

Auf. There was it;

For which my Sinews fhall be ftretch'd upon him:
At a few drops of Womens Rheum, which are
As cheap as Lies, he fold the Blood and Labour
Of our great Action; therefore fhall he dye,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But hark.

[Drums and Trumpets found, with great shouts of the People. I Con. Your Native Town you enter'd like a Poft, And had no welcomes home, but he returns

Splitting the Air with Neife.

2 Con. And patient Fools,

Whofe Children he hath flain, their bafe Threats tear
With giving him Glory.

3 Con. Therefore at your vantage,

E'er he express himself, or move the People

With what he would fay, let him feel your Sword,
Which we will fecond, when he lies along,

After your way, his Tale pronounc'd, fhall bury
His Reasons with his Body.

Auf.

Auf. Say no more, here come the Lords.
Enter the Lords of the City.

All Lords.

You are moft welcome home.

Auf. I have not deferv'd it.

But, worthy Lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you?

All. We have.

I Lord. And grieve to hear it.

What Faults he made before the laft, I think
Might have found cafie Fines: But there to end,
Where he was to begin, and give away
The benefit of our Levies, anfwering us
With our own Charge, making a Treaty where
There was a yielding; this admits no excufe.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.

Enter Coriolanus marching with Drums and Colours, the
Commons being 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 ftill subsisting
Under your great Command. You are to know,
That profperoufly I have attempted, and
With bloody paffage led your Wars, even to
The Gates of Rome: Our Spoils we have brought home
Doth more than Counterpoife a full third part
The charges of the Action. We have made Peace

With no lefs Honour to the Antiates

Than Shame to th' Romans: And we here deliver,
Subfcrib'd by th' Confuls and Patricians,
Together with the Seal o' th' Senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, Noble Lords,

But tell the Traitor in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your Powers.

Cor. Traitor!How now!

Auf. Ay, Traitor, Martius.

Cor. Martius!

Auf. Ay, Martius, Caius Martius; doft thou think I'll grace thee with that Robbery, thy ftoln name Coriolanus, in Coriolus?

You Lords and Head o' th' State, perfidiously

He

He has betray'd your Bufinef, and given up,
For certain drops of Salt, your City Rome,
I fay your City, to his Wife and Mother,
Breaking his Oath and Refolution like
A twist of rotten Silk, never admitting
Counsel o' th' War; but at his Nurfe's Tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your Victory,
That Pages blufh'd at him, and Men of Heart
Look'd wondring each at other.

Cor. Hear'ft thou, Mars?

Auf. Name not the God, thou Boy of Tears.
Cor. Ha!-

Auf. No more.

Cor. Measureless Liar, thou haft made my Heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O Slave!---
Pardon me, Lords, 'tis the first time that ever

I was forc'd to fcold. Your Judgments, my grave Lords,
Muft give this Cur the Lie; and his own Notion,
Who wears my ftripes imprest upon him, that
Muft 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, Volfcies, Men and Lads,
Stain all your edges in me. Boy! falfe Hound!-
If you have writ your Annals true, 'tis there,
That like an Eagle in a Dove-coat, I

Flutter'd your Volfcies in Coriolus.
Alone I did it. Boy!

Auf. Why, Noble Lords,

Will you be put in mind of his blind Fortune, Which was your fhame, by this unholy Braggart, 'Fore your own Eyes and Ears?

All Con. Let him dye for't.

All People. Tear him to pieces, do it prefently:
He kill'd my Son, my Daughter, he kill'd my Coufin
Marcus, he kill'd my Father.

-peace

2 Lord. Peace, ho-no outrage-
The Man is noble, and his Fame folds in
This Orb o' th' Earth; his laft Offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the Peace.

Cor.