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end o' the table: no question asked him by any of the senators but they stand bald before him. Our general himself makes a mistress of him; sanctifies himself with's hand, and turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' the middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday: for the other has half, by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, and sowle the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he will mow down all before him, and leave his passage polled.

SCENE VI. Rome. A public Place.

Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.

Sic. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him :

His remedies are tame i' the present peace
And quietness o'er the people, which before
Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends
Blush that the world goes well: who rather had
(Though they themselves did suffer by 't) behold
Dissentious numbers pestering streets, than see

2nd Serv. And he's as like to do 't as any man Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going I can imagine. About their functions friendly.

3rd Serv. Do 't? he will do 't. For look you, sir, he has as many friends as enemies: which friends, sir (as it were), durst not (look you, sir), shew themselves (as we term it) his friends whilst he's in directitude.

1st Serv. Directitude! what's that?

3rd Serv. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burrowes like conies after rain, and revel all with him.

1st Serv. But when goes this forward?

3rd Serv. To-morrow: to-day: presently. You shall have the drum struck up this afternoon : 't is, as it were, a parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.

2nd Serv. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

1st Serv. Let me have war, say I: it exceeds peace as far as day does night: it's sprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than wars a destroyer of men.

2nd Serv. 'Tis so: and as wars, in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.

1st Serv. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.

3rd Serv. Reason; because they then less need one another. The wars for my money: I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volcians. They are rising, they are rising.

All. In, in, in, in!

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[Exeunt.

[Exeunt Citizens. Sic. This is a happier and more comely time

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Bru. The gods have well prevented it, and Joined with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,

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Bru. Go see this rumorer whipped. It can- What lay before them.

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Mess. The nobles, in great earnestness, are If Marcius should be joined with Volcians,

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The second name of men, obeys his points
As if he were his officer:-desperation
Is all the policy, strength, and defense,
That Rome can make against them.

Men.

Enter a troop of Citizens.

Here come the clusters. -
And is Aufidius with him? - You are they
That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at
Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming;
And not a hair upon a soldier's head

Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs
As you threw caps up will he tumble down,
And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter:
If he could burn us all into one coal,
We have deserved it.

Cit. 'Faith, we hear fearful news.
1st Cit. For mine own part,

When I said "Banish him," I said 't was pity. 2nd Cit. And so did I.

3rd Cit. And so did I: and, to say the truth, so did very many of us. That we did, we did for the best and though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our will. Com. You are goodly things, you voices! Men. You have made

Should say, "Be good to Rome," they charged Good work, you and your cry!-Shall us to the

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Lieu. I do not know what witchcraft's in him: The senators and patricians love him too:

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sure,

The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty

To expel him thence. I think he'll be to
Rome

As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
By sovereignty of nature. - First he was
A noble servant to them; but he could not
Carry his honors even. Whether 't was pride,
Which out of daily fortune ever taints
The happy man: whether defect of judgment,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of: or whether nature
Not to be other than one thing, not moving
From the casque to the cushion, but commanding
peace

Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controlled the war:— - but one of these

Auf. I understand thee well: and be thou (As he hath spices of them all, not all, For I dare so far free him) made him feared; When he shall come to his account, he knows So hated, and so banished. But he has a merit To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues

not

What I can urge against him. Although it Lie in the interpretation of the time:

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In this so never-heeded help, yet do not

Upbraid us with our distress. But sure, if you

Men. No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath Would be your country's pleader, your good

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Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name.
I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus

He would not answer to: forbad all names:
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
Till he had forged himself a name i' the fire
Of burning Rome.

Men. Why. so; you have made good work: A pair of tribunes that have racked for Rome, To make coals cheap. A noble memory!

Com. I minded him how royal 't was to pardon When it was less expected: he replied,

It was a base petition of a state

To one whom they had punished.
Very well:

Men.

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Bru. Only make trial what your love can do For Rome, towards Marcius.

Men.

Well, and say that Marcius
Return me, as Cominius is returned,
Unheard: what then? -

But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
With his unkindness; say 't be so?
Sic.
Yet your good will

Must have that thanks from Rome after the meas

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I think he'll hear me yet.to bite his lip
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
He was not taken well; he had not dined:
The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning; are unapt

To give or to forgive but when we have stuffed
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll watch
him

Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.

Bru. You know the very road into his kindness,

And cannot lose your way.

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Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge Of my success.

[Exit.

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