There was it:

Auf.
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People. First Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, 50 And had no welcomes home; but he returns,

Splitting the air with noise.

Sec. Con.

And patient fools,

Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
With giving him glory.

Third Con.

Therefore, at your vantage,

Ere he express himself, or move the people

With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Which we will second.

When he lies along,

After your way his tale pronounced shall bury

His reasons with his body.

Auf.

Here come the lords.

60

Say no more:

Enter the Lords of the city.

I have not deserved it.

All the Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf.

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
What I have written to you?

Lords.

First Lord.

We have.

And grieve to hear't.

What faults he made before the last, I think
Might have found easy fines: but there to end
Where he was to begin and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding,-this admits no excuse.

Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him.

70

Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; Commoners 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 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

The charges of the action. We have made peace
With no less honour to the Antiates

Then shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf.

Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree
He hath abused your powers.

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Cor. Traitor! how now!

Ay, traitor, Marcius!

Cor.

Marcius!

Auf.

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?

You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
I say "your city," to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roar'd away your victory,
That pages blush'd at him and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor.

Hear'st thou, Mars?
Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears!
Cor.

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

90

100

I was forced to scold. Your judgements, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-
Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave-shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.

First Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak.
Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; 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-cot, I

Flutter'd your Volscians 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?

110

All Consp.

Do it present

All the people. "Tear him to pieces.”

ly." "He killed my son." My daughter." "He killed my cousin Marcus.' "He killed my father."

Sec. Lord. Peace, ho! no outrage: peace!
The man is noble and his fame folds-in

This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.

Cor.
O that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!

Auf

Insolent villain!

All Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

130

[The Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus: Aufidius stands on his body.

Lords.

Hold, hold, hold, hold!

O Tullus,

Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.
First Lord.
Sec. Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will

weep.

Third Lord. Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords.

Auf My lords, when you shall know-as in this rage, Provoked by him, you cannot-the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver

Myself your loyal servant, or endure

Your heaviest censure.

First Lord.

Bear from hence his body;

And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald

Did follow to his urn.

Sec. Lord.

His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.

Auf.
My rage is gone;
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.
Assist.

140

150

[Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. A dead march sounded.

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

SATURNINUS, Son to the late Em-
peror of Rome, and afterwards
declared Emperor.
BASSIANUS, brother to Saturni-
nus; in love with Lavinia.
TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Ro-
man, general against the Goths,
MARCUS ANDRONICUS, tribune of
the people, and brother to
Titus.

LUCIUS,

mora.

A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Romans.

QUINTUS, sons to Titus Andro- Goths and Romans.

MARTIUS,

MUTIUS,

nicus.

YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son to
Lucius.

TAMORA, Queen of the Goths.
LAVINIA, daughter to Titus Andro-
nicus.
A Nurse.

PUBLIUS, Son to Marcus the Tri- Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Solbune.

diers, and Attendants.

SCENE: Rome and the country near it.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol.

The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours.

Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms,
And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords:
I am his first-born son, that was the last
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

Bas. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right, If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,

Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence and nobility;
But let desert in pure election shine,

And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown.

Marc. Princes, that strive by factions and by friends Ambitiously for rule and empery,

10

Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand 20 A special party, have, by common voice,

In election for the Roman empery,

Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius

For many good and great deserts to Rome:
A nobler man, a braver warrior,

Lives not this day within the city walls:
He by the senate is aceited home

From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,

Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field;

And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.

30

Let us entreat, by honour of his name,

Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy

In thy uprightness and integrity,

And so I love and honour thee and thine,

Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,

And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,

That I will here dismiss my loving friends,

50