 | The Invader of His Country : Or, The Fatal Resentment |  |
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
SCENE Antium.Enter Coriolanus in mean Apparel, disguis'd and muffled.
Cor.
A goodly City is this Antium; City!
'Tis I that made thy Widows; many an Heir
Of these fair Edifices, by my Hand
Has groaning bit the Ground. Then know me not,
Lest that thy Wives with Spits, and Boys with Stones
In puny Battle slay me. Save you, Sir.
Enter Citizen.
Cit.
And you.
Cor.
Direct me, Sir, where great Aufidius lies.
Is he in Antium?
Cit.
This very Night he holds a solemn Council,
And, at his House, he feasts our Prime Nobility.
Cor.
Which is his House, Sir?
Cit.
This here before you.
Cor.
Thank you, Sir; farewell.
[Ex. Cit.
O World, thy slippery Turns! Friends now fast sworn,
Who in two Breasts now seem to wear one Heart,
Whose very Souls seem Twins, which Fate has blended
Inseparably, shall within this Hour,
On a Dissention of a Doit, break out
To bitter'st Enmity. So fellest Foes,
Whose Passions and whose Plots have broke their Sleep,
T' attempt each other's Ruin; by some Chance,
Some Trick, not worth a Drachma, shall grow Friends
And intermix their Offspring. Who e'er thought
To be reveng'd upon ungrateful Rome?
[Exit.
Musick plays. Enter a Serving-Man.
1 Serv.
Come, come, come, what Service is here?
Hey, where are you all? Drunk before the Guests, by
this Light!
Enter Coriolanus.
Cor.
A goodly House, and splendid Entertainment;
But I appear not an invited Guest.
1 Serv.
What would you have, Friend? Whence are
you? Here's no room for paltry Companions. Come
to the Door, march, march.
Cor.
Just such a Welcome Coriolanus ought
T'expect from Volscians.
Enter 2 Servant.
2 Serv.
Heyday, who have we here? This, by his
Garb and Mien, should be one of those Creatures whom
they call a Hanger-on, a Spunger, or Smell-Feast.
Whence do you come, Friend? Pray, how far have
you nos'd this Supper in the Wind?
1 Serv.
This Fellow, I'll warrant, as naturally smells
a Supper while 'tis a dressing, as a sagacious Hog spies
the Wind as 'tis coming. Has the Porter his Eyes in
his Head, that he gives Entrance to such Companions?
Go, get you out, go.
Cor.
Away.
[Strikes him.
2 Serv.
Away! Get you away.
Cor.
Vanish, thou Phantom, vanish.
[Kicks him.
2 Serv.
I am so horribly frighted, that I really don't
know whether I have been kick'd or no.
1 Serv.
As certainly as I have been cuff'd, Tony.
We may be Evidences one for another, and sufficient
Damages we may recover. I would not part with my
Cuff for five Sesterces.
2 Sen.
I would not give him my Kick again for ten.
But here comes Mark, we'll bring him into this Bus'ness
as sure as the Day.
3 Serv.
What Fellow's this?
1 Serv.
Hark, in your Ear, Mark; here is a poor
Creature almost famish'd; the smell of this Supper has
attracted the Wretch, as Loadstone does the Iron. Now,
my Master's Orders you know are very strict, that none
but the Guests, and their Servants, should enter. This
Fellow must be got out, d'you see; and be got out
without roughness he cannot; we have tried gentle
Means already. Now Roughness, my Friend Tony and
I have not the Hearts to use, 'tis such a meek, humble,
good-natur'd Creature.
3 Serv.
A Couple of Milk-Sops; let me alone.
1 Serv.
Well, well, we leave you.
2 Serv.
To be kick'd, Tony.
1 Serv.
And cuff'd, Pompey: A Man ought, you
know, to share his Fortune with his Friend. Let us
step behind this Skreen, and wait the Event.
3 Serv.
Hey, you Fellow.
Cor.
Ha!
3 Serv.
Ay, Fellow; so I say, Sir; you Fellow, you that
stare as if you were a star-gazing. What, a murrain, are
we about to tell Fortunes here? I'll tell you your Fortune
with a Vengeance. Do you know, my dear Friend,
that somebody under this Roof will be kick'd immediately?
Ay, so I say, kick'd, my dear Friend; kick'd
for his Impudence and his Impertinence, for intruding
where he had nought to do, and for provoking his Betters?
Do you know this, my dear Friend?
Cor.
Serve with thy Trencher, hence.
[Kicks him.
1st and 2d Servants appear and laugh.
1 Serv.
Mark has it as well as we.
2 Serv.
A true Fortune-teller, by Jove.
1 Serv.
Do you know, my dear Friend, that some
Body under this Roof will be kick'd immediately?
2 Serv.
Kick'd, for his Impudence and his Impertinence;
do you know this, my dear Friend?
Ah Vengeance seize you both.—Sir, you're
a most worthy, most deserving Person, and if I can do
you any Service—
Cor.
I want your Master, Sirrah.
3 Ser.
Sir, step but into the next Room, and have
a Moment's Patience till the Guests have supp'd, and
I'll go up to him. Be pleas'd to walk this way, Sir.
[Exit Coriol.
SCENE draws and discovers Aufidius and the Senators at Table.
1 Lord.
Be not so hasty, Tullus; stay to Night.
Auf.
After your Lordships leave me, not an Hour;
The Troops are, by my Orders, march'd already,
And our Success depends on our Dispatch.
For we may likely take in several Towns
Before that Rome's provided to resist us:
Whose wisest Senators have been deceiv'd,
By trusting to our late dissembled yielding;
And so disbanding hastily their Troops,
While we maintain'd, and even augmented ours,
Have naked and defenceless left their Frontiers.
2 Lord.
My Lords, if my Intelligence proves true,
There is a further and a stronger Reason
Why Tullus should set forth without delay:
For now the Senate and the Roman People
Highly against each other are incens'd:
The Tribunes have Impeach'd, and mean to Try,
For Capital Offences, Caius Marcius,
Rome's brave Defender, and our mortal Foe.
Auf.
Then, if we march while this Dissention's warm,
We bear down all before us like a Deluge;
For Caius Marcius was the only Roman,
Who, when his Country had no Army ready,
Could raise one by his Breath alone, as Jove
First made the World, by saying Let it be.
You may remember when in the late Dearth,
The People, mutinying, refus'd the Service,
He, in a Morning, muster'd up his Friends,
Which ruin'd half our Territory.
3 Lord.
Aufidius, thou commend'st him like a Friend.
Auf.
Life hates not Death so much as I do Marcius,
Yet I'll do Justice to the Worth I hate.
Even when his Country had an Army rais'd,
What was that Army when-e'er he was absent?
He was the Soul of all their warlike Enterprises.
Was it their Army that reduc'd Corioli?
No; 'twas the conqu'ring Arm of Marcius only;
Who, by that wondrous Action, lost his Name,
And found a nobler, with Immortal Glory.
Who beat the Troops which I in Person led?
Was it Cominius, Rome's Commander? No.
I drove Cominius and his Troops before me,
As Whirlwinds drive the Dust;
In Skill, in Stratagem, in Feats of Arms,
Their bravest Romans I surpass'd and foil'd,
Till Marcius came against me, like a God,
By Force divine o'er-pow'ring human Nature.
Conquest attended him where-e'er he came,
And Fortune follow'd him as Fate does Jove.
Where-e'er he came, Skill, Valour, Stratagem,
All in a Moment were constrain'd to yield,
Or by their Perseverance shew'd their Impotence,
And grew ridiculous.
1 Lord.
Perhaps the Tribunes may to Death pursue him.
Auf.
No, that, my Lords, they neither can nor dare,
For the Patricians are too fast his Friends:
But they eternally may disoblige him;
Which if they do, O then that we could gain him.
2 Lord.
I'd give, methinks, a third of my whole Fortune,
To see him here in Antium as a Friend.
3 Lord.
That sight would be most welcome to us all.
1 Lord.
To all most welcome, but most wonderful.
Auf.
Twelve times in single Combat I have try'd him,
And twelve times shamefully have from him fled.
Yet always shall my private Passions yield
To what's my Country's universal Good.
Enter 1 Servant and Coriolanus at a Distance; the other two Servants appear at the Door.
1 Serv.
Sir, Sir, Sir.
[Pulling Aufidius.
Auf.
What would the Fool have?
1 Serv.
The Fool has earnest Business, Sir, as Fools
now-a-Days generally have; here's an odd sort of a Fellow
that is resolv'd to speak with you, whether you
will or no.
Auf.
What's his Business?
1 Serv.
I know not; I believe a Wager.
Auf.
Sirrah, what Wager?
1 Serv.
I believe he has laid that he will kick your
Family round. All but your Honour have had it already.
Auf.
Sirrah, because as you're a Fool I sometimes
Have given you privilege to prate, you think
Your beastly Tongue has a perpetual Licence.
Where is this Fellow?
My Lords, I beg your Pardon for a Moment.
[Comes to the front of the Stage.
Whence com'st thou, and what would'st thou? What's thy Name?
Cor.
Dost thou not know me, Tullus?
Auf.
No: thy Name.
Cor.
A Name unmusical to Volscian Ears,
And harsh in sound to thine.
Auf.
Can'st thou not speak it?
Cor.
Methinks thy Guardian Genius should inform thee;
Nature her self should, rouzing, take th' alarm,
And thy pure Blood, which I've so often shed,
Should swiftly to thy panting Heart retire,
And whisper there what mortal Foe is here.
Auf.
Now by the God of War there breaths but one Man
How hast thou dar'd to appear thus here alone?
Think'st thou to carry Antium like Corioli,
That thou art here unseconded, unguarded?
Cor.
'Tis Rome, not Antium, that I come to carry.
Auf.
What say'st thou?
Cor.
Would'st thou revenge thy Country, or thy self?
If 'tis thy self thou would'st revenge, here strike,
Ungrateful Rome will thank thee for the Blow.
Auf.
Ye Gods, what's this I hear!
Cor.
But if thou would'st revenge thy Country's Wrongs,
Behold me here, no common Friend to Antium,
No vulgar Foe to Rome; for I will fight
Against my canker'd Country, with the Spleen
Of the Infernal Furies.
Auf.
What has it done? what caus'd this wondrous Change?
Cor.
Tullus, thou see'st me here a banish'd Man.
Auf.
Banish'd! Is't possible!
Cor.
Hoop'd out of Rome by vile accursed Slaves,
Permitted by our dastard Nobles, who
Have all forsaken me: For which may Fortune,
And every Guardian God of Rome forsake them.
Tullus, I come to make a noble Barter with thee;
Give me Revenge, I'll give thee Victory.
Auf.
O Marcius, Marcius,
Each word thou hast spoke has weeded from my Heart
A Root of ancient Envy. If that Jupiter
Should from yon glittering Firmament, in Thunder
Speak things Divine, I'd not believe 'em more
Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
My Arms about that Body, against which
My shiver'd Spear a hundred times has broke,
And scarr'd the Moon with Splinters. Here I embrace
The Anvil of my Sword, and here contest
As hotly and as nobly with thy Love,
As ever in ambitious Strength I did
I lov'd the Maid I married, never Man
Sigh'd truer Breath; but, that I see thee here,
Thou noble Soul, more ravishes my Heart,
Than when I first my wedded Mistress saw
Pass blushing o'er my Threshold to my Bed.
Thou art arriv'd, thou Thunderbolt of War,
Even in the dreadful Crisis of Rome's Fate.
Even now our Troops are marching, and I purpos'd
Once more to hew thy Target from thy Brawn,
Or lose my Arm for't. Thou hast worsted me
Twelve several Times, and I have nightly since
Dream'd of Encounters 'twixt thy self and me:
We have been down together, in my Sleep,
Unbuckling Helms, fisting each other's Throats,
And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
Had we no Quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou thence art banish'd, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy; and pouring War
Into the Bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold Deluge mark our Way with Ruin.
Let me present you to our Friendly Senators,
Who now to take their leaves of me are here.
Cor.
You bless me, Gods!
[They go to the Table.
Auf.
My Lords, what you have wish'd so oft in vain,
But what we thought no God would dare to promise,
Fortune and Time have of themselves effected.
Behold the noble Caius Marcius here,
The Friend of Antium, and the Foe of Rome.
All Sen.
Ha, Caius Marcius here!
[All rise.
Auf.
Banish'd from Rome by his ungrateful Country.
1 Sen.
Ha, banish'd!
2 Sen.
Immortal Jupiter!
3 Sen.
What Miracle is this!
4 Sen.
Let us bow down before the Godlike Man.
1 Sen.
Welcome to Antium; yes, a thousand Welcomes.
With you, the Tutelary Gods of Rome,
Are come to dwell among us.
3 Sen.
When your ungrateful Country banish'd you
It pass'd a fatal Sentence on it self.
1 Sen.
Rome in that Moment fell from all its Glory.
2 Sen.
Now, in its turn, our Volscian State will rise.
4 Sen.
You come to Reign, and to Command among us.
And, if you would revenge your barbarous Wrongs
On your ungrateful Country, we have Troops
That march against it now, and good Aufidius
Is proud to share with you his high Commission.
Auf.
Most proud of such a Partner.
Cor.
My Lords, you overwhelm me with your Kindness:
But my bold Hand, not Tongue, shall shew my Gratitude.
Auf.
For me, I must away within an Hour,
Marcius may take a Night's Repose, and follow.
Cor.
Behind you Marcius will not stay a moment.
Repose but feeds my inward Agitation,
While Vengeance preys upon my burning Entrails,
But Motion that will hasten dire Revenge
Will give me Ease of Mind.
By the Reception which I meet with here,
And by the Usage which I found at Rome,
Who would not take this Antium for the City
For which I all my Life had fought and conquer'd,
And Rome the hostile Country, of whose Natives
I, from a Boy, had made perpetual Slaughter.
Enter a Centurion.
Cent.
Where is the General?
Auf.
What are thy Tydings? Say.
Cent.
The Troops that march'd this Evening, have already,
Without Resistance, pass'd the Roman Frontiers,
And mark'd their way with Blood and Devastation.
With which the Welkin glows; th' impartial Sword
Spares neither Age nor Sex, Degree nor Order,
But makes promiscuous Slaughter of our Foes.
Confusion and Dismay seize all who escape,
And all to their wall'd Towns for Refuge fly,
And all those Towns send Post to Rome for Succour.
Suffetius, your Lieutenant, begs, by me,
That you would haste to joyn th' impatient Troops,
And take th' Advantage of their eager Fire,
And of the Foe's surprize.
Auf.
To Horse without delay. Now, noble Marcius,
E'er thrice the Sun his flaming Course renews,
Capricious Rome shall curse the fatal Hour
That e'er she dar'd to banish her Defender.
Cor.
I wait on you.
Auf.
My Lords, we take our leaves.
May Fortune be propitious to your Lordships.
All Sen.
Glory and Victory attend Aufidius,
And thee, most noble Marcius.
Auf
Sirrah, do you attend me to the Gate,
That you may take my Orders as I go.
[Exeunt.
1 Serv.
Here's an Alteration!
2 Serv.
By Jove, I thought to have cudgell'd him;
and yet my Mind gave me his Cloaths made a false Report
of him.
1 Serv.
What an Arm he has! He turn'd me about
with a Finger and a Thumb, as one would set
up a Top.
2 Serv.
And what a Foot he has! Well, I have
had five hundred Kicks, but never had such a Kick before!
He mounted me like a Foot-Ball.
1 Serv.
Well, this Frolick began with my Master.
This Caius Marcius has been us'd to Cudgel him. So
that we Servants have had an Honourable Beating.
2 Serv.
What do you say! Us'd to Cudgel the General!
Well Saucebox! What if I did say Cudgel
the General? Did not the General say so himself?
Pray what did he do before Corioli? Did not he
Scotch him and Notch him like a Certonedo? Gad,
if our General had not shewn the wrong side of himself,
he might have broil'd and eaten him too.
Enter third Servant.
3 Serv.
Oh Slaves! I can tell you News, News you
Rascals.
1 and 2 Serv.
What, what, what? Let us partake.
3 Serv.
Well! I would not be a Roman of all Nations
under the Sun, I had as lief be a condemn'd
Person.
1 and 2 Serv.
Ay! Why so?
3 Serv.
Why this Offspring of Hector will carry
my Master directly to Rome, and lug the Porter of
Rome Gates by the Ears. He will mow down all before
him. Rome will soon come into my Master's
Hands. The Romans will be all turn'd out of their
Places, and we who are Scoundrels now shall immediately
become great Men.
1 Serv.
What, we Footmen become great Men?
3 Serv.
Why, what if we are Footmen, Puppy?
How many Footmen, since I can remember, have
I known preferr'd? Or Fellows worse than Footmen?
Do not we see every Day a proud Splenetick Puppy
lolling backwards in a Gilt Chariot; when all the
Town remembers, that twenty Years ago they saw
him ride behind it? I tell you, we shall be all great Men.
1 and 2 Serv.
Ay, ay, we shall be all three very
great Men.
3 Serv.
But now do you know how to behave your
selves, you Rascals, when you come to be great!
1 Serv.
Not I, by Jupiter.
2 Serv.
Nor I, by Hercules.
3 Serv.
Then observe, and take Example by me.
When I come to be a great Man, I will have but
half my Memory, and no Ears at all in my Head.
And why but half your Memory?
3 Serv.
I will remember to mawl my Enemies, and
forget to do good to my Friends.
2 Serv.
But why no Ears in your Head?
3 Serv.
I will have them remov'd a little nearer to
my Pockets.
1 Serv.
Whither must that be?
3 Serv.
Why, to the Palms of my Hands, you
Scoundrel! He who speaks to me, speaks to me here.
[Pointing to his Hand.]
He who speaks to any other part of me, is an impertinent
Fellow, and talks to the Deaf.
1 Serv.
But how will you pass your Time, when you
come to be great?
3 Serv.
Why, as that sort of great Men does who
with great Fortunes have little Understandings, and
low Thoughts in high Stations. All the Morning I
will be doing nothing, in secret and in State. And
while I am doing nothing gravely and mysteriously, I
will be as inaccessible, and as uncomatable, as if I were
Wisdom or Honesty.
2 Serv.
But how will you pass your Afternoons?
3 Serv.
Why, just as I pass my Mornings; in doing
nothing; only I will see a Friend or two.
1 Serv.
What, Wits, Virtuosi, Politicians I warrant
you.
3 Serv.
No: Fools, you Puppy. Folly in Brocade
shall be my Companion, and Merit in Rags shall be
my Door-keeper. But, to pin the Basket, as soon as I
come to be great, I will use the State as a Sharper
does his Bubble, I will flatter it and cajole it egregiously,
express flaming Zeal for its Service, talk of nothing
but Public Spirit, and the Love of my Country; but
at the same time I will cheat my dear Country most
damnably, yet rail most vehemently at any one who
has it in his Power to cheat it more than myself. If I can
but fill my own Coffers, I care not one Farthing if my
Bankrupt past recovery.
1 Serv.
Oh rare Mark, he has not liv'd twenty
Years in the Service of great Men for nothing.
2 Serv.
Mark has had his Eyes and his Ears open.
1 Serv.
He will certainly be a very great Man.
3 Serv.
Why Sirrah! I am a greater Man than you
may imagine already. I am Factotum and Major-Domo,
and Viceroy in my Master's Absence. Look here is the
Key of the Wine Cellar, Sirrah! Come, I'll begin my
Reign with an Act of Grace, carry you two down into
my Kingdom of Darkness, pierce a fresh Hogshead, and
thereby depriving you of your little Understandings,
absolutely gain your Affections.
[Exeunt.
SCENE ROME.
Enter the two Tribunes and Menenius.
Bru.
Then you hear nothing from him?
Men.
No, I hear nothing;
His Mother and his Wife hear nothing from him.
Bru.
In War this Marcius was a worthy Officer,
But insolent in Peace, o'ercome with Pride;
Ambitious even beyond Imagination,
And doating on himself.
Sic.
And aiming at perpetual Soveraignty.
Men.
Had Caius Marcius aim'd at Soveraignty
He would have been more popular.
For the Patrician who enslaves this People
Must do it by themselves.
Sic.
We should, by this, have felt his Tyranny,
To all our Sorrows, had he gone forth Consul.
Bru.
The Gods have well prevented it, and Rome
Sits safe and easy still without him.
Enter an Ædile.
Æd.
Worthy Tribunes,
Reports, the Voscians, with two several Powers,
Are entred in the Roman Territories,
And with the deepest Malice of the War
Destroy what lies before them.
Bru.
Go see this Rumourer whipt for his bold Lie.
The Volscians, whom so lately we reduc'd,
Have not the Heart to break with us.
Enter Messenger.
Mess.
The Fathers, in great Earnestness, are going
All to the Senate House; some News is come
That turns their Countenances.
Sic.
'Tis this Slave.
Whip him before the People's Eyes, for daring
Thus to disturb the Town by his Invention.
Mess.
But, worthy Sir,
The Slave's Report is seconded; and more,
More fearful is deliver'd.
Sic.
What more fearful?
Mess.
Sir, 'tis by many Mouths deliver'd freely,
How probably I cannot tell, that Marcius,
Join'd with Aufidius, marches against Rome,
And vows Revenge as ample as between
The youngest and the oldest of our Romans.
Sic.
This is most likely!
Bru.
Rais'd only, that the weaker sort may wish
Good Marcius home again.
Sic.
The very Trick on't.
Men.
This is improbable, and highly so;
He and Aufidius are no more compatible
Than the two Branches of a Contradiction.
Enter second Messenger.
2 Mess.
You are sent for to the Senate:
A fearful Army, led by Caius Marcius,
Associated with fell Aufidius, rages
Upon our Territories, and already
Have mark'd their way with Fire, and Blood, and Ruin.
Enter Cominius.
Com.
Oh! you have made rare Work!
What News, what News?
Com.
Yes, you have helpt to ravish your own Daughters!
To see your Wives dishonour'd to your Noses.
Men.
What is the News, what is the News, Cominius?
If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians—
Com.
If Marcius should be join'd—
Why he's their God, he leads them like a Being
Made by some nobler Artist than meer Nature,
That forms Man perfecter, and shapes him better.
And under him they march with no less Confidence,
Than Heroes when commanded by a God.
Men.
Oh! you have made good Work!
Com.
He'll shake your Rome about your Ears.
Men.
As Hercules the Pillars which he rais'd.
You have made fair Work.
Bru.
But is this true, Sir?
Com.
As sure as you'll look pale, and tremble too,
Before you find it other; all the Regions
With cheerfulness revolt, they who resist
Are mock'd for valiant Ignorance,
And perish constant Fools. And who can blame him?
Your Enemies and his find something in him,
Tho' you so much contemn'd him.
Men.
We are all undone, unless the Godlike Man
Have Mercy equal to forgiving Gods.
Com.
And who shall dare to ask it?
The Tribunes cannot do't for shame, the People
Deserve such Pity of him as the Wolf
Does of the Shepherd: Which of his best Friends
Has not deserted him, and seem'd his Enemy?
Men.
True! Were he putting to my House the Brand
Which should consume it, I have not the Face
To say, I beg you cease. You have made fair Hands:
You and your Crafts-Men, you have crafted fair.
Com.
You have brought
A Trembling upon Rome, such as was never
So incapable of Help.
Say not we brought it.
Men.
How! Was it we? We lov'd him.
But yet, like timerous Beasts, and dastard Nobles,
Submitted basely to your Noisy Clusters,
And passively beheld him hooted from our Walls.
Com.
But they, I fear, who thus could hoot him out,
Will roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
The second Name of Men, obeys his Nod,
As if he were his Subaltern: Despair
Is all the Strength, Defence and Policy
That Rome can make against them.
Enter a Troop of Citizens.
Men.
Here come the Clusters!
And is Aufidius with him! You are they
That made the Air unwholsome, when you cast
Your stinking greasy Caps in nauseous hooting
At Coriolanus Exile. Now he's coming,
And not a Hair upon a Soldier's Head
Which will not prove a Scorpion.
As many Coxcombs as you threw up Caps,
He'll tumble down, and pay you for your Voices.
Nay, 'tis no Matter.
If he could burn us all into one Coal,
We have deserv'd to be consum'd together.
All Cit.
Faith, we hear fearful News.
1 Cit.
For my own part,
When I said Banish him, I said 'twas pity.
2 Cit.
And so did I.
3 Cit.
And so did I. And, to say the Truth, so did
very many of us; nay, indeed, all of us.
All Cit.
Ay, all of us.
Com.
All of you say so! How came he banish'd then?
1 Cit.
What we did, we did for the best, and tho'
we consented to his Banishment, yet was it against our
Wills.
[Voices!
Com.
Against your Wills! You goodly things, you
Who urg'd you on to such a fatal Injury?
1 Cit.
Why e'en our worthy Tribunes.
Why then your worthy Tribunes are the Persons
Who have laid waste the Roman Territory,
Have brought their Country to the brink of Ruin,
Have to the Temples of our Gods set Fire,
Have fix'd the murthering Knife to all your Throats,
And, to the Arms of leud Licentious Ruffians,
Have given your Wives and Daughters. So farewell.
1 Cit.
O terrible!
Com.
Come on, Menenius, let us to the Capitol.
[Exe. Com. and Men.
2 Cit.
Have our Tribunes done all this?
3 Cit.
The Furies break their Necks for it.
4 Cit.
What need we trouble the damn'd Neighbours,
for what we can do ourselves. We are the Furies.
All Cit.
Ay, we are the Furies, we are the Furies.
To the Rock, to the Rock with them.
Bru.
How!
Sic.
What do I hear?
4 Cit.
The Punishment they design'd for Coriolanus,
let them feel themselves.
All Cit.
To the Rock, to the Rock with them.
Bru.
Hear me, my Masters.
1 Cit.
No, no, you have prated us into Mischief
enough already, a Plague o'your Rhetorical Throats
for it.
Sic.
Can you refuse to hear us then, my Masters?
2 Cit.
No, by no Means, but you shall take a gentle
leap first.
4 Cit.
We shall see what a delicate Speech you'll
make when your Neck's broke.
All Cit.
To the Rock, to the Rock, away with 'em.
| The Invader of His Country : Or, The Fatal Resentment | |