University of Virginia Library

ACT the Third.

Coriolanus in the Consuls Robes, Cominius, Menenius, with the Nobles; Met by the Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus, and the Plebeians.
Sic.
Back, pass no further.

Cor.
Ha! What's That?

Bru.
It will be Dangerous to go on; no Further.

Cor.
What makes this Change?

Com.
Has he not past the Nobles, and the Commons?

Bru.
Cominius, No.

Cor.
Have I had Childrens Voices?

Men.
Tribunes give way.

Sic.
The People are incens'd against him.

Cor.
Are these your Herd?
Must these have Voices? That can yield 'em now,
And straight Disclaim their Tongues! What are your Offices?
You are their Mouths, Why Rule you not their Teeth?
Have you not set 'em On?

Men.
Be Calm, be calm.

Cor.
It is a purpos'd business, a meer Plot
To Curb the Pow'r of the Nobility:
Bear it, and Live with such as cannot Rule,
And never will be Rul'd.

Bru.
Call't not a Plot;
The People say you Mock't 'em, and of late,
When Corn was giv'n 'em Gratis, you Repin'd.

Cor.
Was not this known before.

Sic.
Not to 'em All.

Cor.
Have you Inform'd 'em since? Fire! Plagues! This Practice
Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus
Deserv'd this Usage; I must tell you Friends,
In Suff'ring this, we Nourish 'gainst the Senate
Sedition and Rebellion; thus They are Thank't
For what they have giv'n to Beggars.

Sic.
You speak o'th' People, as you were a God
To Punish, not a Man of their Infirmity.

Bru.
It were most fit we let the People know't.

Men.
What, what? 'Tis but his Choller.

Cor.
Choller.
Were I as Patient as the Midnight Sleep,
By Jove 'twou'd be my Mind.

Sic.
It is a Mind that shall retain it's Venome,
Not Poyson any Further.

Cor.
Shall Retain;
Hear you this Triton of the Minews, mark you
His absolute Shall?

Com.
Well; On to th'Market-Place.

Cor.
Whoever gave that Councel, to give out
The Corn o'th' Store-House Gratis, Fed Sedition,
And the State's Ruin.

Bru.
Why shou'd the People give
One that speaks thus their Voice.

Cor.
I'll give my Reasons,
More Worthy than their Voices: Prest to th'War,
They wou'd not pass their Gates; this kind of Service
Did not deserve Corn Gratis; being i'th' War,
Their only Valour was in Mutiny,
In Faction only Bold; Nobles pluck out at once,
The Multitudinous Tongue, nor let 'em lick
The Sweet that is their Poyson.

Sic.
He has said enough.

Bru.
He has spoken like a Traytor, and shall Answer
As Traytors do.

Cor.
Miscreant, Despight o'rewhelm thee;
What shou'd the People do with these Bald Tribunes,
That make 'em fail their Duty to the Bench?
Let what is fit take Place, and Throw their Pow'r to th'Dust.

Bru.
Manifest Treason!
The Ediles Hoa! Let him be Apprehended.

Cor.
Away old Goat.

All.
We'll be his Surety.

Cor.
Hence rotten Thing, or I shall shake thy Bones
Out of thy Garments.

Sic.
Help Citizens.

Men.
On both sides more Respect.

Bru.
Here's He wou'd take Away your Liberties.

All.
Down with him, down with him.

Cor.
Hark how the whole Kennel Eccho to the Cry
Of this old Brace of Curs! A Poaching pair
Of Vermine, Fed by the Prey, that others Toil for;
Spawn of Sedition, and the Spawners of it.

Bru.
Whom means the Lunatick?

Cor.
You, Faction-Mongers,
That wear your formal Beards, and Plotting Heads,
By the Valour of the Men you Persecute;
Canting Caballers, that in smoaky Cells,
Amongst Crop-ear'd Mechanicks, wast the Night
In Villanous Harrangues against the State.
There may Your Worship's Pride be seen t'embrace
A smutty Tinker, and in exstasy
Of Treason, shake a Cobler be th'Wax't Thumb.

Sic.
Or let Us stand to Our Authority,
Or let Us lose it; We do here Pronounce
Upon the Peoples Pow'r, this Martius
Worthy of present Death.

Bru.
Therefore lay Hold on him,
Bear him to th'Tarpeian Rock, from whence,
Into Destruction cast him: Ediles Seize him.

Cor.
No, I'll Dye here;
There's some among you have beheld me Fight:
Come, Try upon your Selves.

All.
Down with him.

[The Nobles draw their Swords.
Men.
Help Martius, Help.

The Tribunes, the Ediles, and People, are Beat off.
Com.
Stand fast, We have as many Friends as Enemies.

Cor.
Oh! wou'd 't were put to That!

Men.
The God's forbid;
Beseech you Noble Sir, Home to your House,
Leave Us to Cure this Breach.

Com.
Come Sir, I will along with you.

Cor.
On fair Ground, I wou'd beat a Legion of 'em.

Com.
But now 'tis Odds beyond Arithmetick;
Will you from hence before the Tags return?

Men.
Pray you be gone;
I'll try whether my old Wit be in Request,
With those that have but little.

Com.
Nay, Come away.

[Exit. Coriolanus, and Cominius.
Men.
Oh! He has Mar'd his Fortune;
He wou'd not Flatter Neptune for his Trident,
Nor Jove for his Pow'r to Thunder.

Sen.
I wou'd they were a Bed.

[Shout of the Citizens within.
Men.
I wou'd they were i'th' Tiber.

Re-enter Sicinius, and Brutus, with the Rabble.
Sic.
Where is this Viper?
That wou'd Depopulate the City, and
Be every Man himself?

Bru.
He has resisted Law,
And therefore Law shall scorn him further Tryal.

1 Cit.

We'll give him to Understand, that our Noble Tribunes,
are the Peoples Mouths, and we their Hands.

Men.
Sir, Sir,—

Sic.
Menenius, you have help't
To make this Rescue.

Men.
Hear me Speak,
As I do know the Consuls Worthyness,
So I can name his Faults.

Bru.
What Consul?

Men.
The Consul Coriolanus.

All.
No, no, no, he's no Consul.

Men.
If by the Tribunes leave, and yours good Citizens,
I may be Heard—

Sic.
Speak briefly then,
For know, We have Decreed his certain Death,
He Dies to Night.

Men.
Now the Good Gods forbid.

Bru.
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;
Most of his Blood is for his Country Shed,
And what is left, to lose it by his Country—

Sic.
Wide from the Business:
When he did Love his Country, It Honour'd Him.

Bru.
Therefore we'll hear no more:
Pursue him to his House, and pluck him thence,
Lest his Infection being of Catching nature,
Spread further.

Men.
Yet one word more: Beseech ye proceed by Process,
Lest Parties (as he is belov'd) break out,
And Sack Great Rome with Romans.

Sic.
If it were so?—

Bru.
What do you Talk,
Have we not had a Tast of his Obedience;
Our Ediles Struck, our Selves Resisted? Come—

Men.
Consider Sirs, He has been Bred in Wars
Since he could Draw a Sword, and is ill-school'd
In soothing Language; Meal and Bran together,
He Throws without Distinction; give me leave,
I'll go to him, and bring him t'you in Peace,
Where he shall Answer by a lawful Form
Upon his utmost Peril.

Senat.
Noble Tribunes,
It is the Worthier way, the other Course
will prove too Bloody, and the End of it,
Unknown to the Beginning.

Bru.
Menenius, then be you the Peoples Officer.
Masters lay down your Weapons.

Sic.
Go not Home.

Bru.
Meet at the Forum, we'll Attend you there,
Where, if you bring not Martius, we'll proceed
In our first Way.

[Exit. Tribunes and People.
Men.
I'll 'gage my Life upon't,
Let me desire your Company, we must bring Him,
Or Worse will follow.

[Exit.
Enter Volumnia, met by Valeria, passing by in a Chair.
Val.

Hold, hold, set me down—I Swear Madam, I had almost
overseen my good Fortune, and past by your Ladyship.

Vol.

Your Ladyships most humble Servant.

Val.

And upon my Honour, Madam, my Hast is so Violent, and Affairs
so Important, that nothing, but the Sight of your Ladyship,
shou'd have Stop me: Well, I hear my Lord Coriolanus continues Obstinate;
I Love an Obstinate Man most inordinately! Do's your Ladyship
know, Madam, that I am the greatest Rabble-Hater of my Sex?
I think 'em the common Nuisance of the World; there's no Thought,
no Science, no Eloquence, no Breeding amongst 'em; and therefore your
Ladyship must know, They are my Aversion: For, as to all these Particulars,
and to every one of 'em, the Envy of the World must Grant—
and your Ladyship knows, the World is most Malicious—I say, the Envy
of the World must Grant—O Jupiter! What was, I saying, Madam?

Vol.

I Beg your Ladyships Pardon, that—

Val.

Then Madam, there's such Mistery in my Dress! the Wits see
Poetry in it, the Souldiers Spirit and Courage, the Mathematicians describe
the Spheres in't, and your Geographers, the Terra Incognita:
And yet your Ladyship sees 'tis as plain as Nature; no Trim, no Ornament:
There's my Lady Galatea, such a fantastical, fulsome Figure,
all Curls and Feathers! And besides Madam, she's such an Eternal
Talker! Her Tongue's the perpetual Motion, and she affects such hard
Words, such an obdurate Phrase, that she exposes her self a publick Ludibry
to the Universe.

Vol.

Nay, now Valeria—

[Here one of the Pages whisper Valeria.
Val.

How's that? Titus Decius, Cajus Proculus, Marcus Flavius,
Publius Cotta; All to wait on me since I came Forth? Are they not
all Banish't Men? Have I not Refus'd, incontinently, to see 'em these
three Days together; nay, though they came upon State Affairs: O
the Impudence of Man-kind! I Swear, a Lady had need look to her
Circumstances! Well, I'll to Athens agen, incontinently! Boy, tell 'em
I shall return at Six precisely—I Swear, Madam, this Love's my Aversion
of all things in the World; and yet for the speculative part,
I presume, I understand it most Unmeasurably: Trust me, I cou'd Write
the Art of Love.

Vol.

Think you so Madam?

Val.

As thus; Sometimes to seem, inordinately, Jealous of them;
sometimes to make them, inordinately, Jealous of mee: to seem Merry
when I am Sad; Sad when I am Merry; to Rail at the Dress that becomes
me best, and Swear I put it on in Contradiction to Them.

Vol.

Indeed Madam?

Val.

O Jupiter! How insensibly the Time runs, whilst your Ladyship
is Discoursing; I cou'd hear your Ladyship Discourse all Day—
but this Business is the most uncivil Thing—but your Ladyship, and
I, shall take a Time: Your Ladyship will excuse my Hast; for I Swear,
I am in Hast most inordinately.

[Exit.
Enter to Volumnia, Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, with the Rest of the Nobles.
Cor.
Let 'em pull All upon my Head, present me
Death on the Wheel, or at wild Horses Heels;
Or Pile Ten Hills on the Tarpejan Rock:
Thus will I bear my self, nor bate a Grain
Of my firm Temper.

Vol.
Come, be Milder.

Cor.
From whence this Change? For Madam, You were wont
To call the Slaves, Things made to sit Bare-headed
In the Assembly, and to Yawn and Wonder,
When any One of my high Rank stood up
To speak of Peace or War.
Why do You Wish me Milder? wou'd You have me
False to my Nature; rather say, I Play
The Man I am.

Vol.
O Coriolanus!
I wou'd have had you put your Pow'r well on,
'Ere you had Worn it out.

Men.
Come, You have been too Rough;
You must Return and Mend it:
There's no Remedy,
Unless You'll see the City laid in Ashes.

Cor.
What must I do?

Men.
Return to the Tribunes.

Cor.
Well, What then? what then?

Men.
Repent what You have Spoke.

Cor.
To them? I cannot do it to the Gods.

Vol.
You are too Absolute,
If it be Honour in Your Wars, to seem
The Thing You are not, for Your Countreys Good:
Why is it less in Peace, when the whole State
Is set at equal Hazzard? This feign'd Compliance
No more Dishonours You, than to Take in
A Town with gentle Words, that sets you else
At Chance, and is at best the Price of Blood;
I wou'd Dissemble with my Nature, where
My Fortunes, and my Friends were both at Stake;
I speak the Voice of All, and am in This,
Your Wife, Your Son, the Senators, and Nobles;
And in a Word, the Life, and Fate of Rome.

Men.
O most Divinely Urg'd.

Vol.
I Pray go to 'em
With mild Behaviour; for in such a Business,
Action is Eloquence; and the Eyes o'th' Vulgar,
More Learned than their Ears: Or say to 'em,
Thou art their Souldier, and being Bred in Battles,
Have not the Soft way, which you do Confess,
Were fit for Thee to Use, as Them to Claim.

Men.
This but Perform'd, i'th' manner, she has spoke,
Their Hearts are Yours; nay, You shall have their Knees.

Enter Cominius.
Com.
I've been i'th' Market Place, and Sir 'tis necessary
You make Strong Party to Defend your Self,
Or with fair Language Calm 'em; All's on Fire.

Vol.
He Must, and Will.

Cor.
Well, I Comply,
Yet were there but this single Frame to Lose;
This Mould of Martius, They to Dust shou'd Grind it,
And Throw't against the Wind, to th'Market-place.
You have put me to a Part, that I shall ne're
Discharge to the Life.

Com.
Come, come, we'll Prompt You.

Cor.
Away my Disposition, and possess me,
Some Ev'nuchs Spirit; and the Virgin Voice,
That Lulls the Babe Asleep;—I will not do't,
Lest I desist to Honour my own Truth;
And by my Bodies Action, Teach my Mind,
A most inherent Baseness.

Vol.
At thy Choice then:
To beg of Thee, is more below my Honour,
Than Thou of them: I stand prepar'd for Death,
With Heart as fix as Thine: Destruction come,
And let Rome's Founder, and the groaning Spirits
Of all Her Guardians Dead,
Affright the Elements to see their Citty,
With Her own Hands let all Her Vital's Blood:
The Care of Heav'n, and Fate expire in Flames,
Whilst with a dreadful Joy Her Foes look on;
And with insulting Smiles Aufidius cries,
Corioles Ruins sped him with one Name,
Rome give him now Another.

Cor.
Oh my Mother!
Forgive my stubborn Frame! Look, I am going;
Chide me no more: Oh! You shall see me play
The very Mountebank; Return belov'd
Of all the Trades in Rome: I'll return Consul,
Or never trust to what my Tongue can do
I'th' way of Flattery further.

Vol.
Do your Will.

[Exit.
Com.
The Tribunes do Attend you, Arm your self
To Answer Mildly; for they are prepar'd
With grievous Accusations. See, they are come
To seek us out.

Cor.
Let 'em Accuse me by Invention, I
Will Answer in my Honour.

Men.
I, but Mildly.

Cor.
Well, Mildly be it then, Mildly.

Enter Tribunes and Rabble.
Sic.
Draw near my Fellow Citizens.

Edile.
List to your Tribunes: Peace.

Cor.
First hear me speak.

Both Trib.
Well, say—Peace hoa!

Cor.
Shall I be Charg'd no further, than this present?
Must all determine here?

Bru.
You must Submit to the Peoples Voices,
Allow their Officers, be content to suffer
Such lawful Censure for your Faults, as shall
Be prov'd upon you.

Cor.
I am Content.

Men.
Lo, Citizens, he sayes he is Content.

Cor.
What is the Matter,
That being past for Consul with full Voice,
I am so dishonour'd, that the very Hour
You take it off agen?

Sic.
Answer to us.

Cor.
Say then, 'tis true, I ought so.

Sic.
We Charge you, that you have Contriv'd to take
From Rome, all Office, strove to wind your self
Into a Pow'r Tyrannical;
For which, you are a Traytor to the People.

Cor.
How? Traytor!

Men.
Nay, patiently: your Promise.

Cor.
The Fires i'th' lowest Hell, fold in their People,
Call me their Traytor: Thou injurious Tribune,
Were Legions by thee, I wou'd say, thou Ly'st,
With Voice as free as I do Pray the Gods.

Bru.
Mark you this; People.

All.
To the Rock, to the Rock with him.

Sic.
We need not put new Matter to his Charge;
What you have seen him do, and heard him speak;
Beating your Officers, Cursing your Selves,
Opposing Law with Blows; and last, defying
The Pow'r that was to Try him: this deserves
The extreamest Death.

Bru.
But since he has Serv'd well for Rome—

Cor.
What, do you talk of Service?

Bru.
I speak of it that know it.

Cor.
You?

Men.
Is this the Promise that you made?

Cor.
Vex me no more:
Let 'em pronounce the steep Tarpeian Death,
Vagabond Exile, Fleaing; doom'd to Linger:
But with a Grain a Day, I wou'd not buy
Their Mercy at the Price of one fair Word.

Sic.
I say, his Service to the State being weigh'd,
With hostile Practices committed since:
I'th' Name o'th' People, and the Tribunes Pow'r,
We Banish him for ever from our Citty;
In pain of Death from the Tarpeian Rock,
No more to enter through the Gates of Rome:
I'th Peoples Name, I say, it shall be so.

All.

It shall be so, it shall be so; Away with him, He's a banish'd
Man, Out with him.

Com.
Hear me my Masters, and my common Friends.

Sic.
He's Sentenc'd; no more Hearing. He is Banish't,
As Enemy to the People, and his Country.

All.
'Tis so, 'tis so; it shall be so, &c.

Cor.
You common Cry of Curs, whose Breath I hate,
More than the rotten Fens, whose Love I prize,
As the Dead Carkasses of unburied Men,
That do corrupt my Air. I Banish you:
Remain you here with curst Uncertainty;
Let every feeble Rumour shake your Hearts,
Have still the Pow'r to Banish your Defenders,
Till you are left a Prey to some vile Nation,
That Won you without Blows; Poyson each other;
Devour each other; Commerce cease amongst you;
Rob one another: nothing you can Steal,
but Thieves do lose it: Whirlwinds sack your Town,
And Citizens, and Citty, make one Rubbish.
Thus with the Gods, I turn my Back upon you;
And swift Confusion swallow you.

[Exit. with his Friends.
Sic.
There went the Peoples Enemy.
They All Shout, and throw up their Caps.
Go see him out at Gates, and follow him,
As he has follow'd you; with all Despight,
Give him diserv'd Vexation: Let a Guard
Attend vs through the Citty.

All.

Ay, ay, let's see him out at Gates: the Gods preserve
our noble Tribunes; Away, away.

[Exit.
Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, with the Nobility of Rome.
Cor.
Come, leave your Fears, a brief Farewell, and Part:
The Beast with many Heads Butts me away:
Nay Mother, Where is now your wonted Courage?
You have been us'd to say, Extremities
Were the Distinguishers of Noble Spirits;
That common Changes, common Men cou'd bear;
That when the Sea was Calm, the slightest Boats,
Cou'd with the Proudest, cut the smooth fac't Floud;
That Strength and Management was for the Storm:
Thus you were wont to Arm me, with such precepts,
As made invincible the Heart that learn't 'em.

Vol.
The spotted Pestilence strike every Street,
And purple Slaughter triumph through the Citty;
Death block up every Door, and Graves be wanting;
The noisy Trades be husht, and Traffick cease;
Assemblies be no more: Owls, Ravens, Vultures,
With Nests obscene, their desolate Buildings fill,
And Beasts of Prey their antient Seats regain.

Cor.
No more, the Life of Rome's not worth this Mourning;
I shall be Lov'd, when I am lack't—nay Mother,
Resume that Spirit, when you were wont to say,
If you had been the Wife of Hercules,
Six of his Labours you'd have Born, and Sav'd
Your Husband so much Sweat.

Vol.
My first-born Son,
I call the Gods to Witness for my Temper,
That hitherto thy Dangers were my Joy,
Whilst for the Service of thy Country born;
But now thou hast no Country to Defend,
I feel the Womans Tenderness return;
The Mothers Fondness, and her panting Fears.

Virg.
My injur'd Lord, What Course wilt thou persue,
Expos'd to more Distress, and threatning Dangers,
Than ever yet befel a Banish't Man:
From her Confederate, Citties, Rome Excludes thee;
And in Rome's Service, thou hast made all others,
Thy Foes implacable?

Cor.
The Gods that Warn me from these Seats, Choose for me.
Where is my little Life? Pray let me see him,
Leave him a hasty Blessing, and Away.
Young Martius brought in; Coriolanus take him in his Arms.
Oh! How I Grutch ingrateful Rome this Treasure!
Make much of him Virgilia, I shall live
To Train him up in War, and he shall Choose
Some Country to Defend, and make his own:
My Absence in some Part he shall Supply;
And with his innocent Pratling, chide thy Sights,
When thou shalt Wake, and Miss me from thy Bed.

Boy,
Sir, Shall not I go with you? my Grand-Mother has
Promis'd me a Sword.

Cor.
My pretty Life, I'll Visit thee again;
Take, take him hence, he raises in my Breast
A Tenderness that's most Unseasonable:
And Loathness to Depart—take him away.

Boy,
Then in truly Sir, I'll learn to Ride,
And come to you.

Cor.
Away, the little Thief has stole my Temper,
And fill'd my Eye-lids with unmanly Dew:
Once more Farewell to All.

Men.
Permit us Sir,
To Wait you to the Citty Gates, so far
The Cruelty o'th' People do's Allow.

Cor.
By Jove, and Fire-Ey'd Mars, not one Step further:
This Race of Pilgrimage is all my own.
I know not what presage has struck my Breast;
But Oh! Methinks I see Destruction teem,
And waiting for my Absence, to Discharge
The battering Storm on this perfidious Citty:
So when the murmering Wind, from out his Nest,
Jove's Royal Bird to the open Region calls;
Aloft he Mounts, and then the Tempest Falls.

[Exit.