Leave us to cure this cause.

Men. For 'tis a fore,

You cannot tent your felf; begone, 'befeech you..
Com. Come, Sir, along with us.

Men. I would, they were Barbarians, (as they are,
Though in Rome litter'd;) not Romans: (as they are

not,

Though calved in the porch o'th' Capitol :)

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 my self take up a brace o'th' best of them; yea, the two Tribunes.

Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetick:
And manhood is call'd foolery, when it ftands
Against a falling fabrick. Will you hence,
Before the tag return, whofe rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear
What they are us'd to bear.

Men. Pray you, be gone:

I'll try, if my old wit be in requeft

With thofe that have but little; this must be patcht
With cloth of any colour.

Com. Come, away. [Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius. 1 Sen. 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's power to thunder: his heart's his mouth : What his breaft forges, that his tongue muft vent;

And, being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death.

Here's goodly work.

2 Sen. I would, they were a-bed.

[A noife within.

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

geance,

Could he not fpeak 'em fair?

Enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble again.

Sic. Where is this viper,

That would depopulate the city, and

Be

Be every man himself?

Men. You worthy Tribunes

Sic. He fhall be thrown down the Tarpeian Rock
With rigorous hands; he hath refifted Law,
And therefore Law shall scorn him further trial
Than the feverity of publick Power,
Which he fo fets at nought.

1 Cit. He shall well know, the noble Tribunes are The people's mouths, and we their hands.

All. He fhall, be fure on't.

Men. Sir, Sir,

Sic. Peace.

Men. Do not cry havock, where

With modeft warrant.

Sic. Sir, how comes it, you

Have holp to make this refcue?
Men. Hear me speak;

As I do know the Conful's worthiness,

So can I name his faults

J

Men. The Conful Coriolanus.

Bru. He Conful!

All. No, no, no, no, no.

Men. If by the Tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, be heard, I'd crave a word or two;

may

The which fhall turn you to no further harm,

Than fo much lofs of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then,

For we are peremptory to dispatch

This viperous traitor; to eject him hence, (15)
Were but our danger; and to keep him here,
Our certain death; therefore it is decreed,

Were but one danger, and to keep bim bere

Our certain Death;] This Reading, which has obtain'd in the printed Copies, deftroys that Climax which evidently feems defign'd here, and thereby flattens the Sentiment. In my Opinion, the Tribune would fay, "To banish him, will be "hazardous to Us; to let him remain at home, our certain "Destruction.”

He

He dies to night.

Men. Now the good Gods forbid,

That our renowned Rome, whofe gratitude
Tow'rds her deferving children is enroll'd

In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a difeafe that must be cut away.
Men. Oh, he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easie.

What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies, the blood he hath loft
(Which I dare vouch, is more than That he hath,
By many an ounce) he dropt it for his Country:
And what is left, to lofe it by his Country,
Were to us all that do't, and suffer it,

A brand to th' end o'th' world.

Sic. This is clean kamme.

Bru. Meerly awry: when he did love his Country, It honour'd him.

Men. The fervice of the foot

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

Bru. We'll hear no more.

= Purfue him to his houfe, and pluck him thence Left his infection, being of catching nature, Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word:

This tiger-footed rage, when it fhall find

The harm of unskann'd swiftnefs, will (too late) Tye leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process, Left Parties (as he is belov'd) break out,

And fack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If 'twere so

Sic. What do ye talk?

Have we not had a taste of his obedience,

Our Ediles fmote, our felves refifted? come-
Men. Confider this; he hath been bred i'th' wars
Since he could draw a fword, and is ill-school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran togethe
He throws without diftinction.
VOL. VI.

Give me leave,

S

I'll

I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he fhall anfwer by a lawful form,
In peace, to his utmoft peril.

i Sen. Noble Tribunes,

It is the humane way: the other courfe
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic. Noble Menenius,

Be you then as the people's officer.
Mafters, lay down your weapons.

Bru. Go not home.

Sic. Meet on the forum; we'll attend you there
Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
In our firft way.

Men. I'll bring him to you.

Let me defire your company; he muft come,
Or what is worft will follow.

1 Sen. Pray, let's to him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to CORIOLANUS's Houfe.

Cor.

·L

Enter Coriolanus, with Nobles.

ET them pull all about mine ears, prefent me
Death on the wheel, or at wild horfes' heels,

Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian Rock,

That the precipitation might down ftretch
Below the beam of fight, yet will I ftill
Be thus to them.

Enter Volumnia.

Nobl. You do the nobler.

Cor. I mufe, my mother

Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vaffals, things created
To buy and fell with groats; to fhew bare heads
In congregations, yawn, be ftill, and wonder,
When one but of my Ordinance ftood up
To speak of Peace or War; (I talk of you)
Why did you with me milder? wou'd you
Falfe to my nature? rather fay, I play

have me

The

The man I am.

Vol. Oh, Sir, Sir, Sir,

I would have had you put your Power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor. Let it go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man you are, With ftriving less to be fo. Leffer had been (16) The Thwartings of your difpofitions, if

You had not fhew'd them how you were difpos'd
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

1 Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter Menenius, with the Senators.

Men. Come, come, you've been too rough, fome thing too rough:

You must return, and mend it.

Sen. There's no remedy,

Unless, by not fo doing, our good City
Cleave in the midst, and perish.

Vol. Pray, be counsell'd;

I have a heart as little apt as yours,

But yet a brain that leads my ufe of anger

To better vantage.

Men. Well faid, noble woman:

(17) Before he should thus ftoop to th' Herd, but that

(16)

Leffer bad been

The Things that thwart your Difpofitions,]

The old Copies exhibit it,

The Things of your Difpofitions

The

A few Letters replac'd, that by fome Carelessness drop'd out, reftore us the Poet's genuine Reading;

The Thwartings of your Difpofitions.

(17) Before be thus fhould floop to th' Heart, -] But how did Coriolanus ftoop to his Heart? he rather, as we vulgarly express it, made his proud Heart ftoop to the Neceffity of the Times. I am perfuaded, my Emendation gives the true Reading. So, before, in this Play;

Are thefe your Herd?