And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of ruin.

Sic. This deserves death.

Bru. Or let us stand to our authority,
Or let us lose it:- We do here pronounce,
Upon the part o'the people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
Of present death.

Sic. Therefore, lay hold of him ;
Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.

Bru. Ædiles, seize him.

Cit. Yield, Marcius, yield.

Men. Hear me one word.

Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

Ediles. Peace, peace.

Men. Be that you seem, truly your country's friend, And temperately proceed to what you would Thus violently redress.

Bru. Sir, those cold ways,

That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous
Where the disease is violent :-Lay hands upon him,
And bear him to the rock.

Cor. No; I'll die here.

[Drawing his sword.

There's some among you have beheld me fighting;
Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.

Men. Down with

that sword

Bru. Lay hands upon him.

Men. Help, Marcius! help,

;-Tribunes, withdraw a

You that be noble; help him, young, and old !
Cit. Down with him, down with him!

[while.

[In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ediles, and the

People, are all beat in.

Men. Go, get you to your house; begone, away,

All will be naught else.

2 Sen. Get you gone.

Cor. Stand fast;

We have as many friends as enemies.

Men, Shall it be put to that?

1 Sen. The gods forbid !

I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house;

Leave us to cure this cause.

Men. For 'tis a sore upon us,

You cannot tent yourself: Begone, 'beseech you.

Com. Come, sir, along with us.

Cor. I would they were barbarians, (as they are, Though in Rome litter'd,) not Romans, (as they are not,

Though calv'd i'the porch o'the capitol,)

Men. Begone;

Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;

One time will owe another..

Cor. On fair ground,

I could beat forty of them.

Men. I could myself

Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two tri

bunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic;

And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
Against a falling fabric.-Will you hence,
Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear
What they are us'd to bear.

Men. Pray you, begone;

I'll try whether my old wit be in request
With those that have but little; this must be patch'd
With cloth of any colour.

Com. Nay, come away. [Exe. Cor. COM. and others. 1 Pat. This man has marr'd his fortune.

Men. His nature is too noble for the world :

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth :
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;

And, being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death.

Here's goodly work!

2 Pat. I would they were a-bed!

[A noise within.

Men. I would they were in Tiber!-What, the ven

geance,

Gould he not speak them fair?

Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the Rabble.

Sic. Where is this viper,

That would depopulate the city, and
Be every man himself?

Men. You worthy tribunes,

Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock

With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial

[7] The lowest and most despicable of the populace are still denominated by those little above them, Tag, rag, and bobtail. JOHNSON.

Than the severity of the public power,
Which he so sets at nought.

1 Cit. He shall well know,

The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,

And we their hands.

Cit. He shall, sure on't.

Men. Sir,

Sic. Peace.

[Several speak together.

Men. Do not cry, havoc, where you should but hunt

With modest warrant.

Sic. Sir, how comes it, that you

Have holp to make this rescue ?

Men. Hear me speak :

As I do know the consul's worthiness,
So can I name his faults:

Sic. Consul! - what consul?

Men. The consul Coriolanus.

Bru. He a consul!

Cit. No, no, no, no, no.

Men. If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,

I may be heard, I'd crave a word or two;

The which shall turn you to no further harm,

Than so much loss of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then :

For we are peremptory, to despatch

This viperous traitor: to eject him hence,
Were but one danger; and, to keep him here,
Our certain death; therefore it is decreed,
He dies to-night.

Men. Now the good gods forbid,
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a disease, that must be cut away.
Men. O, he's a limb, that has but a disease
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies? The blood he has lost,
(Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an ounce,) he dropp'd it for his country:

[8] To cry havock was, I believe, originally a sporting phrase, from hafoc, which in Saxon signifies a hawk. It was afterwards used in war, and is expressly forbid in Ordinances des Battuilles, the second article of which seems to have been fatal to Bardolph. It was death even to touch the pis of little price. TYRWHITT.

And, what is left, to lose it by his country,
Were to us all, that do't, and suffer it,

A brand to the end o' the world.

Sic. This is clean kam.

Bru. Merely awry: When he did love his country,

It honour'd him.

Men. The service of the foot

Being once gangreen'd, is not then respected
For what before it was?

Bru. We'll hear no more :

Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,

Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word.

This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find

The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will, too late,

Tie leaden pounds to his heels. Proceed by process;

Lest parties (as he is

belov'd) break out,

And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If 'twere so,

Sic. What do ye talk ?

Have we not had a taste of his obedience?

Our Ædiles smote ? ourselves resisted? -Come :

Men. Consider this ;-He has been bred i'the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
(In peace,) to his utmost peril.

1 Sen. Noble tribunes,
It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody; and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic. Noble Menenius,

Be you then as the people's officer :
-Masters, lay down your weapons.
Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the market-place :- we'll attend you there:

Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
In our first way.

Men. I'll bring him to you :

[8] i. e. Awry. So Cotgrave interprets, Tout va a contrepoil, All goes clean kom. Hence a cambrel for a crooked stick or the bend in a horse's hinder leg. WARB. The Welch word for crooked is kam STEEVENS.

Let me desire your company. [To the Senators.] He

must come,

Or what is worst will follow.

1 Sen. Pray, let's to him.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

A Room in CORIOLANUS's house. Enter CORIOLANUS, and

Patricians.

Cor. Let them pull all about mine ears; present me Death on the wheel, or at wild horses' heels; Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, That the precipitation might down stretch Below the beam of sight, yet will I still Be thus to them.

Enter VOLUMNIA.

1 Pat. You do the nobler.
Cor. I muse, my mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy and sell with groats; to show bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder,
When one but of my ordinance stood up1

[TO VOL.

To speak of peace, or war. I talk of you;
Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me

False to my nature ? Rather say, I play

The man I am.

Vol. O, sir, sir, sir,

I would have had you put your power well on,

Before you had worn it out.

Cor. Let go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man you are,

With striving less to be so: Lesser had been

The thwartings of your dispositions, if

You had not show'd them how you were dispos'd

Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter MENENIUS and Senators.

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough, some

thing too rơugh;

You must return, and mend it.

I Sen. There's no remedy;

Unless, by not so doing, our good city

[9] That is, I wonder, I am at a loss. [1] My rank. JOHNSON.