Auf. Say no more; Here come the lords. Enter the Lords of the city. Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deserv'd it, But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd Lords. 1 Lord. We have. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think, Enter Coriolanus, with drums and colours; a crowd of Citizens 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 still subsisting Under your great command. You are to know, That prosperously I have attempted, and With bloody passage, led your wars, even to The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home, Do more than counterpoise, a full third part, Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver, Together with the seal o'the senate, what 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. Cor. Ay, traitor, Marcius. Marcius! Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,- Auf. No more. Ha! Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast 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 scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion (Who wears my stripes impress'd on him; that must bear My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust 1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli: Alone I did it.-Boy! Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? Con. Let him die for't. [several speak at once. Cit. [speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He kill'd my son;-my daughter;-He kill'd my cousin Marcus;-He kill'd my father. 2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage;―peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth. His last offence to us Cor. O, that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, Auf. Insolent villain! Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. Lords. [Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him. Hold, hold, hold, hold. Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. 2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords. Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage, Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger Myself your loyal servant, or endure 1 Lord. Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: let him be regarded Did follow to his urn. 2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Auf. My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up:Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.— |