ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may | Great cause to give great thanks. Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man? Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He loved his mother dearly. Sic. They are near the city? [Going. Enter the Ladies, accompanied by SENATORS, 1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, fore them: Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an en-Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, gine, and the ground shrinks before his tread-Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; ing. He is able to pierce a corslet with his Cry,-Welcome, ladies, welcome!eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a bat- All. Welcome, ladies! tery. He sits in his state,t as a thing made; for Welcome! Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in. Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us! Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. Enter a MESSENGER. [Shouting again. [day; Men. This is good news: ings: next, Accept my thankfulness. Mess. Sir, we have all [A flourish with Drums and Trumpets. Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, [Exeunt Attendants. Enter Three or Four CONSPIRATORS of AUFIDIUS' Auf. I know it; And my pretext to strike at him admits When he did stand for consul, which he lost Auf. That I would have spoke of: I seem'd his follower, not partner; and 1 Con. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd For no less spoil, than glory, Auf. There was it; 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. 1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise. 2 Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear, With giving him glory. 3 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 pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body. Auf. Say no more; Here comes the lords. Enter the LORDS of the City. Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deserv'd it, Coriolanus in Corioli? You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars? Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,Cor. Ha! Too great for what contains it. Boy! 0 slave! Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forc'd to scold. Your judgements, 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 The lie unto him. 1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and lads, But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False What I have written to you? Lords. We have. 1 Lord. And grieve to hear it. 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 Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned 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 hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, Auf. Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy brag. gart, '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 killed my son;my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcus; He killed my father. 2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage;-peace. Cor. O, that I had him, Auf. Insolent villain! [dius, Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage, Provok'd 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 1 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. 4 R ACT I. SCENE I.-Rome.-A Street. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of CITIZENS. Flav. Hence; home, you idle creatures, get you home; Is this a holiday? What! know you not, 1 Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter. Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on?You, Sir; what trade are you? 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad soals. Mar. What trade, thou knave; thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cil. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, Sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow? 2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you. 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather, have gone upon my handy-work. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop today? [streets? Why dost thou lead these men about the 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, Sir, we make holiday to see Cesar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, less things! O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, fault, Assemble all the poor men of your sort;* You know, it is the feast of Lupercal. Flav. It is no matter; let no images Will make him fly an ordinary pitch; [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same.-A public Place. Enter, in Procession, with Music, CESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and. CASCA, a great Crowd following, among them a SOOTHSAYER. Ces. Calphurnia, Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness, And show of love, as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Bru. Cassius, Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look, viours: Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion,* By means whereof, this breast of mine hath Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. And it is very much lamented, Brutus, Casca. Peace, ho! Cesar speaks. Ces. Calphurnia,— Cal. Here, my lord. Ces. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course.§-Antonius. Ant. Cesar, my lord. Ces. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their steril curse. Ant. I shall remember: When Cesar says, Do this, it is perform'd. Ces. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. Sooth. Cesar. [Music. Ces. Ha! who calls? Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet again. [Music ceuses. Ces. Who is it in the press, that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides of March. Ces. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cesar. Ces. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. South. Beware the ides of March. Ces. He is a dreamer: let us leave him ; (Except immortal Cesar,) speaking of Brutus, That you would have me seek into myself Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar❜d to hear: And, since you know you cannot see yourself Cas. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so. Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well: But wherefore do you hold me here so long? The nature of your feelings. |