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We have deserv'd it.

Cit. 'Faith, we hear fearful news. 1 Cit.

For mine own part, When I said, banish him, I said, 'twas pity.

2 Cit. And so did I.

3 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 !

You have made Good work, you and your cry!-Shall us to the

Com. O, ay; what else?

[E.reunt Com. and Men.
Sic. Go, masters, get you home, be not dismay’d;
These are a side, that would be glad to have
This true, which they so seem to fear. Go home,
And show no sign of fear.

i Cit. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. I ever said, we were i' the wrong, when we banish'd him. 2 Cit. So did we all. But come, let's home.

[E.reunt Citizens. Bru. I do not like this news. Sic. Nor I. Bru. Let's to the Capitol:—’Would, half my

wealth Would buy this for a lie! Sic,

Pray, let us go. [Exeunt.



Enter Aufidius, and his Lieutenant.
Auf. Do they still fly to the Roman?
Lieu. I do not know what witchcraft's in him;

Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
And you are darken’d in this action, sir,
Even by your own.

I cannot help it now;
Unless, by using means, I lame the foot
Of our design. He bears bimself more proudlier
Even to my person, than I thought he would,
When first I did embrace him: Yet his nature
In that's no changeling; and I must excuse
What cannot be amended,

Yet I .wish, sir,
(I mean, for your particular,) you had not
Join'd in commission with him: but either
Had borne the action of yourself, or else
To him had left it solely.

Auf. I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
When he shall come to his account, he knows not
What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly,
And shows good husbandry for the Volcian state;

think you

he'll carry

Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
As draw his sword: yet he hath left undone
That, which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
Whene'er we come to our account.
Lieu. Sir, I beseech you,

Auf. All places yield to him ere he sits down;
And the nobility of Rome are his:
The senators, and patricians, love him too:
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 honours even: whether 'twas 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

Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controll'd the war: but, one of these,
(As he hath spices of them all, not all,
For I dare so far free him,) made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish’d: But he has a merit,
To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
Lie in the interpretation of the time:
And power, unto itself most commendable,
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair

To extol what it hath done.
One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths, do

fail. Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.


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Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus, and

Others. Men. No, I'll not go: you hear, what he hath

said, Which was sometime his general; who lov’d him In a most dear particular. He call’d me, father: But what o'that? Go, you that banish'd him, A mile before his tent fall down, and kneel The

way into his mercy: Nay, if he coy'd To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.

Com. He would not seem to know me.


Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name:
I urg'd 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 forg'd himself a name i’ the fire
Of burning Rome.

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

Com. I minded him, how royal 'twas to pardon When it was less expected: He reply'd, It was a bare petition of a state To one whom they had punish’d.

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