University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FIRST.

Scene, The City Rome.
Enter A Company of Mutinous Citizens, with Staves, Clubs, and other Weapons.
1 Cit.
Before we Proceed any further, hear me Speak.

All.
Speak, speak.

1 Cit.

Let me hear Silence then: And shall I
speak all your Minds before you take the Trouble
to think what you would have?

All.

Speak, speak.

1 Cit.

You are all Resolv'd rather to Dye than Starve.

All.

Resolv'd, resolv'd.

1 Cit.

First you know Caius Martius is Chief Enemy to the
People.

All.

We know't, we know't.

1 Cit.

Let us kill him, and we'll have Corn at our own Price.
Is't a Verdict?

All.

He's Dead, he's dead.

2 Cit.

One Word good Citizens.

1 Cit.

Good Citizens; we are Accounted poor Citizens, the Patricians

good: what Surfeits them, wou'd Relieve us: Let 'um feel
our Swords, that take away the Use of our Knives; not that I
mean any Harm Neighbours; for the Gods know I speak this in
Hunger for Bread, and not in Thirst for Revenge.

2 Cit.

Wou'd we Proceed only against Caius Martius?

1 Cit.

Against him only, together with all the Rest.

2 Cit.

Consider what Services he has done for his Country.

1 Cit.

We have paid him with our Thanks for't; but he is
Proud, and hates the Commonalty; we'll Pay him for that
too: You say he did Famously to Please his Country; I say
he did it to Please his Mother, as great a Hector as himself.
Shout here
What Shouts are these? Why? There now is the Blessing
of good Example. The other side o'th' City is Risen too: Come,
let's make Hast, or they'l Run away with the Capitol before
we overtake 'em.

All.

Away, away, away.

Enter Menenius.
1 Cit.

Soft, Who comes here? Oh! 'tis Menenius Agrippa, one
that Loves the People, and alwayes Imploy'd me to Work for
him.

2 Cit.

Well, He's indifferent Honest.

Men.

What Work's in Hand my Country-men? where go you
with those Staves and Clubs? The Matter, speak I beseech you?

1 Cit.

Our Business is not unknown to the Senate, they might
have smelt us this Fortnight; they say, poor Suiters have strong
Breaths, they shall find we have strong Arms too.

Men.

Why Masters, my good Friends, my honest Neighbours,
Will you undo your selves?

1 Cit.
Nay, if that be all, we are undone already.

Men.
I tell you Friends, the good Patricians have
For all your Wants, most charitable Care;
But for this Dearth, the Gods (not They) have made it:
You are Transported by your Misery,
To Slander those that Care for you like Fathers.

1 Cit.

Care for us? Yes, by shutting up the Store-Houses, and
suffering us to Famish: If the Wars Eat us not up, they will;

and there's the Care they bear, for us.

Men.
Now must you, or Confess your selves Malicious;
Or be Accus'd of Folly: Shall I tell you
A pretty Tale? It may be, you have heard it,
But since it serves the present Purpose—

1 Cit.

Well, we'll hear it Sir; but think not to fob us off with
a Tale: but an't please you Deliver.

Men.

There was a Time—

2 Cit.

Good, There was a Time; a very good Beginning: all
your good Stories begin with, There was a Time.

Men.
When all the Body's Members
Rebell'd against the Belly, and Accus'd it
For being Unactive, Idle, never bearing
Like Labour with the Rest, whilst th'other Parts
Did See, and Hear, Devise, Instruct, Walk, Feel,
Yet this dull Gulph gorg'd all the Food; to which
The Belly Answer'd—

1 Cit.
Well, What said the Belly?

Men.
Why Sir? I tell you with a kind of Smile:
For look you, I may make the Belly Smile,
As well as Speak: It Tauntingly reply'd
To the Discontented Members, the Mutinous Parts.

1 Cit.
Well, What was its Answer?

2. Cit.
He had best see to't, that it be a good One.

Men.
Patience good Friends,
Your most grave Belly was Deliberate,
Not Rash like his Accusers: and thus Answer'd,
True is it my incorporate Friends (quoth he)
That I do first Receive the general Food
You Live upon, and 'tis most fit;
Because I am the Store-House and the Shop
Of the whole Body: but if you do remember,
I send it through the Rivers of your Blood,
Ev'n to the Heart, and every Nerve and Vein,
From me receive their Strength; though all at once;
Pray Mark me Sirs—

All.
Well Sir, we do.

Men.
Though all at once (sayes he) cannot
See what I do Deliver out to Each;
Yet I can make up my Account, that all
Do Back from me, receive the Flower of All,
And leave me but the Bran: What say you to't?

All.
Nay Sir, What say You to't? Come.

Men.
The Senators of Rome are this good Belly,
And you the Factious parts; Digest things rightly,
Touching the Common-Weal, and you shall find,
No publick Benefit which you receive,
But it Proceeds from them, not from your selves:
What do you think of this? And what think you?
You the great Toe of this Assembly?

1 Cit.
I the great Toe! Why the great Toe?

Men.
For that being one o'th' Lowest, Basest, Poorest;
Of this most Wise Rebellion thou goest Fore-most:
Thou Rascal, that art worst in Blood, the Ring-leader:
But make you ready your stiff Bats and Clubs,
Rome, and her Rats are at the point of Battle.
Hail Noble Martius.

Enter Caius Martius.
Mart.
What is the Matter you Dissentious Rogues,
You Scabs, Bred from the Itch of your own Opinion?

1 Cit.
I, wee had ever your good Word.

Mart.
He that will give good Words to thee will Flatter
Beneath a Bawd; What would you have you Curs?
That like not Peace nor War; the one Affrights you,
The other makes you Factious: he that Trusts you;
Where he shou'd find you Lions, finds you Hares;
You are Vertues Contrary; who deserves Greatness,
Deserves your Hate; and your Affections are
A Sick-mans Appetite, which desires that most,
That wou'd increase his Evil; who Depends
Upon your Favours, Swims with Finns of Lead:
With ev'ry Minute you do change a Mind,
And call him Noble, that was now your Hate;
Him Vile, that was your Garland: What's the Matter,
That in these several Places of the City,
You Cry against the Noble Senate, who
Under the Gods keep you in Awe; who else
Like Beasts of Prey, wou'd Feed on one another.
What's their seeking?

Men.
For Corn at their own Rates, with which they say,
The City is well Stor'd.

Mart.
They say! Hang 'em;
They'll sit by th'Fire, and take on 'em to know
What's done i'th' Capitol: They say there's Grain enough;
Wou'd the Nobility lay aside their Patience,
And let me use my Sword, I'd make a Quarry
With Thousands of these Quarter'd Slaves, as high
As their own Capitol.

Men.
Nay, these are almost throughly perswaded;
For though abundantly they lack Discretion,
Yet they are passing Cowardly; but I pray you,
What sayes the other Troop?

Mart.
Burn 'em, the Herd are Scatter'd;
They said they were a Hungry, Sigh'd forth Proverbs,
That Hunger broke Stone-Walls, that Dogs must Eat,
That Meat was made for Mouths, that the Gods sent not
Corn for the Rich Men only; with these Shreds
They Vented their Complaints; which being Answered,
And a Petition Granted them, A strange one
To break the Heart of Pow'r: they threw their Caps up;
As they wou'd Hang 'em on the Horns o'th' Moon.

Men.
What's Granted 'em?

Mart.
Four Tribunes (to Defend their vulgar Wisdomes)
Of their own Choosing; Brutus, Cornicius, Sicinius, Bethellius:
The Rabble shou'd have first Unrooft the City,
'Ere so prevail'd with me; it will in time
Confound the Senate: Get you Home you Fragments.

Enter Decius.
Dec.
Most Noble Martius,
The Senate makes you here next Substitute
To our General Comminius, in the Place
Of Lartius, for the present Wars
Against the Volsces.

Men.
A Charge that you have Sigh'd for;
Yet still you seem Disturb'd.

Mart.
My Task is with their City, whilst Cominius
Engages their Field-Forces.

Men.
What of that?

Mart.
Tullus Aufidius, there is to be found,
My Rival once, still most inveterate Foe:
Were half to half the World Engag'd, and He
Upon my Party, I'd Revolt, to make
My Wars only with him: He is a Lyon
That I am Proud to Hunt: Menenius, Thou
Shalt see me once more Strike at Tullus Face.
What, Art thou stiff? Stand'st out?

Men.
No Caius Martius,
I'll Lean upon one Crutch, and Fight with to'ther,
'Ere Lag behind this Business.

Mart.
One Word my Fellow-Citizens.

1 Cit.
No good I warrant it.

Mart.
You shall have Corn enough, on Martius Word you shall.

1 Cit.
Why? Look you there now, I alwayes said we were
Mistaken in this Man.

All.
A Martius, a Martius, &c.

1 Cit.
As how, most Noble Martius?

Mart.
Lartius is Dead, and I'm Employ'd by the Senate
To Storm the Volsces Citty; there is Store
Of Richest Grain: Follow me, All is yours.
[Here the Citizens Steal away severally.
See now, if these vile Rats dare go to knaw
The Enemies Garners: Here comes Two of their Tribunes.
Let us Bequeath 'em this Infected Ground.
Come, let's to Horse.

Men.
Will you not Home first, and take short Leave
Of your Dear Wife, and Honour'd Mother?

Mart.
My Charge is speedy, Womens Farewel's Tedious:
Stay thou Menenius to perform for me
That Office; I'll away upon the Spur,
And Reach my Troops 'ere the Sun Wash his Steeds.

[Exit.
Men.
The Gods Preserve you.

As they go off, the Tribunes, Scicinius, and Brutus meet them, they pass by (Disdaining) each other.
Sic.
Was ever Man so Proud as is this Martius?

Bru.
He has no Equal.

Sic.
When we were Chosen Tribunes for the People,
What Indignation Sparkled from his Eyes?

Bru.
Success i'th' present Wars, will swell his Spirits,
Above his Mothers Haughtiness, which he
Retains, as she had Nurs'd him with her Blood.

Sic.
Hark, hark! The Peoples Murmurs are not ceast,
Tho much they Build on their New Tribunes Pow'r.
Come, let us hasten to Apply our Selves,
And Work upon their Fury e're it Cools.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Palace.
Enter Volumnia and Virginia.
Vol.
Prethee Vergilia spare those feeble Tears,
Which I must Blame in any that belongs
To Caius Martius, tho his Tender Babe,
That had no other Language; Learn of me
That blest the Absence, gave my Lord his Honour,
More than the calm Peace, that gave me his Love.
This Martius, this thy Lov'd, Lamented Husband,
When of my Widdow'd Years, the only Son;
When Tender-Body'd, and so Fresh a Bloom
Adorn'd his Cheeks, as drew and fixt all Eyes,
When at a Kings Entreaty, the Fond Mother,
Not Half an Hour wou'd Sell him from her Sight;
I Weighing then, how Honour wou'd become
So promising an Excellence, dismist him,
To seek out Danger, where he might find Fame.
To a Cruel War I sent him, where he Flesht
His Youthful Sword; and to my Arms return'd,
Laden with bloody Bays: I tell thee Daughter,
I sprung not with more Joy, to find my Pains,
Had to the World Restor'd his Father's Image:
Then first to find him, Match his Fathers Fame.

Virg.
But had he Dy'd in the Adventure?

Vol.
Then—
His Glory shou'd have been my Darling Son:
Now by Minerva, had the Indulgent Gods
Blest me with Twenty Sons, as much Belov'd
As my brave Martius; I had rather Lose them All
In Chase of Glory, and their Country's Cause,
Than One, i'th' Surfeit of voluptuous Peace.

Virg.
Excuse my Tenderness, that Wishes still
For Peace and Martius: What's this Monster Country,
That must be Fed with my Dear Martius Blood?
If this Unnatural Mother still must prey
On her own Off-spring, let her take her Rabble;
The Vermin-Crowd my Martius so Abhors.

Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to Visit you.

Virg.
Let me Retire from her Impertinence;
A heavier Burden than the Grief I bear.

Vol.
Not now Virginia, she'll divert you: Oh!
Methinks I hither Hear thy Husbands Drum;
See him Dismount Aufidius; all the Volsces
Wide Shunning him, as Children from a Tyger:
Methinks I see him Frown, and hear him Call,
Come on ye Cowards; you were got in Fear,
Tho you were Born in Rome: His bloody Brow—

Virg.
His bloody Brow? The Gods Defend!—No Blood.

Vol.
Away Fond Girl; it more becomes a Man,
Then Gold his Arms; the Breasts of Hecula,
When she gave Suck to Hector, look't not Lovelier,
Than Hectors Forehead, when besmear'd with Blood.
Go, Bring Valeria in.

Virg.
Heavens Bless my Lord from fierce Aufidius.

Vol.
No more such Folly,
He'll Strike Aufidius Head below his Knee,
And Tread upon his Neck.

Enter Valeria, Gawdily and Fantastically Drest, follow'd by Six or Seven Pages.
Val.
Morrow Ladies, good Morrow.

Vol.
I am glad to see your Ladyship.

Val.

Your Ladyships most Eternal—Well, you are the most manifest
House-keepers! Come, you do your Beauties wrong, the Suburra
wrong, the Forum wrong, the Cirque, the whole Youth of Rome.

Vol.

We leave that Triumph Madam to your Sovereign Charms.

Val.

And do I look Sovereignly Madam? Indeed I think my Enemies
will Grant me That; but I bear not upon't: I am Ambitious only
of the Graces of the Mind, the Intellectuals, and despise those vain
Allurements of Dress and Face—but do I look Sovereignly Madam?

Vol.

Most Irresistably!

Val.

And what my Dear, Eternally in Tears?
[To Virgilia.
Come, I must have you Read Philosophy; better Live in Apathy, as
the Stoicks say, then have such tender Sense of Things:—pray
Madam, What do's your Ladyship think of the Stoicks.

[To Vol.
Vol.

As of the Noblest Sect.

Val.

Come, I must have you Forth with me: I have some Nineteen
Visits to make, and all of 'em old Debts upon my Honour: Well, I'll
Swear there's an intollerable deal of Patience requir'd to common Civility:
Because an impertinent Lady comes and teazes me three Hours
at my House to Day, therefore I must go to be teazed three more at
her House to Morrow; I Swear 'tis most Unreasonable. How I wish
my self at Athens again We had no such Doings at Athens; no idle
Chat of Tires and Fans, but of Secrets in Nature, and stiff Points of
Philosophy—but Rome at Rome; Come, come away.

Virg.

By no means Madam, I'll not out of Doors.

Val.

O you Confine your self most Unreasonably; your Thoughts
now are with your Lord at Corioles; trouble not your self, I shall give

you Intelligence of his Affairs; I have it always an Hour before the
Senate: Well, Intelligence is a fine thing! It costs me the Gods know
what in Forreign Correspondence from Sicily, Sardinia, Rhetia, Aquitain,
Crete, Cyprus, Lydia, Ephesus, Dalmatia, Thrace, Pontus;
the Hetrusci make no Motion, but by my Advice: Nay, our own General
Cominius, is glad to keep Touch with me: Not an Officer of Note
in the Camp, but sends me News or Love. Come hither Page—look Madam,
pray Madam observe, this is my last Days Post, and the lightest Pacquet
has come this two Months; Fye, fye, up with 'em, I am asham'd on't.

Vol.

But do's your Ladyship Answer all These?

Val.

Some of 'em I never peruse, and those are your Gallantry Epistles:
I know all those Hands with half an Eye; there's Titus Decius,
Cajus Proculus, Marcus Flavius, Publius Cotta; Albinus,
Sesinna, Graculus, Phocus, Linus, Tucca, Rufus, Fæsula; with a
Legion more, that are All unseal'd in the Fire! I Swear I am a cruel
Creture! But 'tis my Way Madam.

Virg.

Eternal Torturer!—By your Leave Madam.

Val.

Nay, I am just upon the Wing too; my Chair there, What?
No Attendance in this World? Well, of all things in Nature, I love
Dispatch; and yet I Swear I cou'd stay with your Ladyships Eternally
—but your Ladyships will Excuse me upon Business; not but that I'd
leave any Thing for your Ladyships Company—your Ladyships will pardon
my Hast, for I Swear I am in Hast most inordinately.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Coriolanus and Decius before the Walls of Corioles.
Mart.
How far off Lye these Armies?

Dec.
Scarce half a League.

Mart.
Then we shall hear their Larum, and they ours.
Now Fire-Ey'd Mars make us but quick in Work,
That we with reeking Swords may March from hence
To Help our Fielded Friends; Come Blow the Blast.
A Parley, the Senators Appear on the Walls.
Tullus Aufidius, Is he within the Walls?

Sen.
No, nor a Man that Fears you less than he.
Hark how our Drums call forth our Youths; our Gates
With yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with Rushes;
They'l open of themselves: Heark, to the Field,
There is Aufidius; list what Work he makes
Amongst your broken Army.

Mart.
Oh they are at it!
Their Noise be our Instruction; Ladders hoe!
They Fear us not, but Issue from their City.
Now Plant your Shields before your Hearts, and Fight
With Hearts more Proof than Shields. Advance brave Decius,
They Disdain us much beyond our Thoughts,
Which makes me Sweat with Rage: Come on my Fellows,
He that retires, I'll take him for a Volsce,
And he shall Feel my Sword.
Alarum; The Romans beat back to their Trenches, Re-enter Martius Cursing.
All the Contagion of the South light on you,
You shames of Rome, now Botches, Boyls, and Plagues
Crust you all o're, that you may be Abhor'd,
Further than seen; you Souls of Daws and Geese,
That bear the Shapes of Men; how have you run
From Slaves, that Apes wou'd beat, Pluto and Hell?
All hurt behind, Backs red, and Faces pale,
Mend, and Charge Home,
Or by the Fires of Heav'n, I'll leave the Foe,
And make my Wars on you; look to't; come on.
[Alarum agen.
So, now the Gates are Open, now prove good Seconds,
'Tis for the Followers Fortune, not the Flyers:
Mark me, and do the like.

[Martius, with a few follows them to the Gates, and is shut in.
1 Sol.
Fool hardiness? not I.

2 Sol.
Nor I.

1 Sol.
See, they, they have shut 'em in.

All.
To th'Pot, I warrant 'em.

Alarum continues, Re-enter Martius with his Party, as having Forc't their Way through the Citty; his Followers with Spoils.
1 Rom.
This will I Carry to Rome.

2 Rom.
And I This.

3 Rom.
A Murrain on't, I took This for Silver.

Mart.
See here these Pismires, that do Prize their Labours
At a crack'd Drachma, Cush'ons, Leaden Spoons;
Old Scraps of Iron, Doublets, that Hangmen wou'd
Bury with those that Wore 'em; these vile Slaves,
E're yet the Fight be done, Pack-up; down with them,
And Heark what Noise the General makes; let's to Him,
There is the Man of my Souls Hate, Aufidius
Peircing our Romans; Valiant Decius, take
Convenient Numbers to make Good the Citty,
Whilst I with those that have the Spirit, will Hast
To Help Comminius.

Dec.
You Bleed apace My Lord;
Your Exercise has been too Violent,
For a Second Course of Fight.

Mart.
Sir, Praise me not;
My Work has yet not Warm'd me; Fare you well:
The Blood I Drop, is rather Physical,
Than Dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus
Will I Appear, and Dare him to my Sword.

[Exit. Severally.
SCENE Changes to a Camp or Field, an Alarum.
Cominius and Aufidius, are seen Engaging each Other, with their Parties: Cominius is Beaten off; Martius with his Souldiers Enters Hastily on the other Side.
Mart.
Turn, turn Aufidius, this Way lies your Game:
I'll Fight with None but Thee; for I do Hate Thee
Worse, than a Promise breaker.

Auf.
No Hate lost;
Not Africk Breeds a Serpent I Abhor,
More than thy Fame and Thee: Here fix thy Foot.

Mart.
Let the first Starter Dye the other's Slave,
And the Gods Toom him after.

Auf.
If I Fly Martius, holloo me like a Hare.

Mart.
Within these three Hours Tullus,
I Fought within the Walls of your Corioles,
And made what Work I Pleas'd; 'tis not my Blood,
Thou see'st me Smear'd with, 'tis thy Dearest Kindred's.
Take That to Work thy Fury to the Height;
For I wou'd have thee Warm.

Auf.
VVert Thou the Hector
That was the VVhip of thy feign'd Progeny,
Thou shou'dst not Pass this Munite.

Alarum: They Fight off; after which, a Retreat Sounded: Re-enter Martius and Cominius, at several Doors.
Com.
Come to my Arms most Noble Martius,
If I shou'd tell thee o're this thy days VVork,
Thou'lt not believe thy Deeds; but I'll Report 'em,
VVhere Senators shall mingle Smiles with Tears;
VVhere Ladies shall Express a fearful Joy:
VVhere the Dull Tribunes that do Hate thy Honours,
Shall Cry against their Hearts, we Thank the Gods,
That Rome has such a Souldier.

Mart.
Beseech ye Sir no more:
My Mother that has Priviledge to Extol
Her Blood; when She do's Praise me, Grieves me.

Com.
You shall not be the Grave of your Deserts;
For Rome must know the Value of Her Own:
'Twere a Concealment worse than Sacriledge.
Therefore, before our Army you must Hear me.

Mart.
I have some VVounds upon me, and they Smart,
To Hear themselves Remembred.

Com.
Of all the fiery Steeds, and goodliest Treasure,
VVe have taken from the Citty and the Field,
VVe Offer you the Tenth, to be tane forth,
Before the Common Distribution;
Choose for thy self.

Mart.
I Thank my General,
But cannot make my Heart Consent, to take
A Bribe to pay my Sword; I do Refuse it,
And stand upon my common Share, with Those
That Joyn'd with me in Fight.
A Flowrish, All Wave their Swords, and Cry Martius, Martius.
May these same Instruments which you Profane,
Never Sound more; when Drums and Trumpets shall
I'th' Field turn Flatterers, then let Courts be Honest:
No more I say.

Com.
You are Unjust to your own Merits Martius,
And we must see 'em Righted; be it therefore known
To all the World, that Caius Martius
Wears this War's Garland; and in Token of it,
My Warlike Steed (known to the Camp) I give Him,
With all his Golden Trappings; and henceforth,
For what He did before Corioles, call Him,
With all th'Applause of our Victorious Camp,
Caius Martius Coriolanus.

Trumpets, Drums, and Shouts again.
Mart.
I will go Wash, and then you shall Perceive,
Whether I Blush or no.

Com.
So to our Tent,
Where 'ere we do Repose us, we will Write
To Rome of our Success; you Attalus
Must to Corioles back with our Commands.

Mart.
The Gods begin to Mock me, I
That now Refus'd most Princely Gifts, am Bound
To Beg of my Lord General.

Com.
Speak and Take.

Mart.
I sometime Lay here in Corioles,
At a poor Old Mans House, he us'd me Kindly;
I'th' Fight I saw him Pris'ner, he Cry'd to me:
But then Aufidius was within my View,
And Rage o're came my Pitty: I Beseech you
To give my poor Oft Freedom.

Com.
Noble still:
Were he the Butcher of my Son, he shou'd
Be Free, as is the Wind.

Cor.
I'll Find him out.
Now let us Sacrifice to th'Gods, and Pray
For many Rival Days, to This on Rome;
Then Yield our Pious Rites, to our Slain Friends;
That done, to gen'ral Mirth our Legions Sound,
Our Labour'd Brows with Bays, and Myrtle Crown'd,
And make with Genial Wine, our empty'd Veins Abound.

[Exeunt.