I could beat forty of them.

[Exeunt COMINIUS, CORIOLANUS, and LICTORS.

Men. You worthy tribunes,

Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial.
1 Cit. He shall well know,

The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
And we their hands.

All. He shall, sure on't.

Men. Sir,

Sic. Peace.

Men. Do not cry, havoc, where you

hunt

With modest warrant.

Sic. Sir, how comes't, that you
Have holp to make this rescue ?
Men. Hear me speak :-

As I do know the consul's, worthiness,
So can I name his faults:-

I

Sic. Consul!-what consul?
Men. The consul Coriolanus.
Bru. He a consul!-

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

should but

Men. If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good

people,

may be heard, I'd crave a word or two;

The which shall turn you to no further harm,

Than so much loss of time.

Bru. We'll hear no more;

Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.

Men. One word more, one word.—

Proceed by process;

Lest parties, as he is belov'd, break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru. If 'twere so,—

Sic. What do

ye

talk?

Have we not had a taste of his obedience?

Men. Consider this;-He has been bred i'the

wars

Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
(In peace,) to his utmost peril.

Sic. Noble Menenius,

Be you then as the people's officer.

there:

Meet on the marketplace :-We'll attend you
Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
In our first way.

Men. I'll go, and bring him to you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

An Apartment in CORIOLANUS' House in Rome.

Enter CORIOLANUS and VOLUMNIA.

Cor. Let them pull all about mine ears; present

me

Death on the wheel, or at wild horses' heels;
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
That the precipitation might down stretch
Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
Be thus to them.

Vol. But hear me, Marcius.

Cor. I muse, my mother

Does not approve me further,

Why did

you wish me milder? Would you False to my nature? Rather say, I play Truly the man I am.

have me

Vol. O, sir, sir, sir,

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

Cor. Why let it go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man you

are,

With striving less to be so: Lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions, if

You had not show'd them how you were dispos'd,
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor. Let them hang.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Enter MENENIUS.

Men. Come, come, you've been too rough, something too rough;

You must return, and mend it.

Vol. 'Pray, be counsel'd:

I have a heart as little apt as yours,

But yet a brain, that leads my use of anger,

To better vantage.

Men. Well said, noble woman:

Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that
The violent fit o'the time craves it as physic

For the whole state, I'd put mine armour on
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor. What must I do?

Men. Return to the tribunes.

Cor. Well,

What then? what then?

Men. Repent what

you

have spoke.

Cor. For them?—I cannot do it to the gods; Must I then do't to them?

Vol. You are too absolute;

Though therein you can never be too noble,
But when extremities speak. I've heard you say,
Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,

I'the war do grow together: Grant that, and tell me,

In peace, what each of them by th' other lose,

That they combine not there.
Cor. Tush!-tush!—

Men. A good demand.

Cor. Why force you this?

Vol. Because that now it lies on you to speak To the people:

I would dissemble with my nature, where

My fortunes, and my friends at stake, requir'd,
I should do so in honour.

I pr'ythee now, my son,

Go to them;

Say to them,

Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils,
Hast not the soft way, which, thou dost confess,
Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim,
In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame
Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far

As thou hast power and person.

Men. This but done,

Even as she speaks, why, all their hearts were yours; For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free

As words to little purpose.

Here is Cominius.

Enter COMINIUS.

Com. I have been i'the marketplace: and, sir, 'tis fit You make strong party, or defend yourself

By calmness, or by absence; all's in anger.

Men. Only fair speech.

Com. I think, 'twill serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.

Vol. He must, and will:-
:-

'Pr'ythee, now, say, you will, and go about it.

Cor. Must I go show them my unbarb'd sconce ?
Must I,

With my base tongue, give to my noble heart

A lie, that it must bear? Well, I will do't:
Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,

This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it, And throw it against the wind.-To th' marketplace:

You have put me now to such a part, which never I shall discharge to the life.

Com. Come, come, we'll prompt you.

Vol. I pr'ythee now, sweet son; as thou hast said, My praises made thee first a soldier, so, To have my praise for this, perform a part Thou hast not done before.

Cor. Well, I must do't:

Away, my disposition, and possess me

Some harlot's spirit! My throat of war be turn'd,
Which quired with my drum, into a pipe

Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice

That babies lulls asleep!

A beggar's tongue

Make motion through my lips; and my arm'd knees,
Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his

That hath receiv'd an alms !-I will not do't:
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth,
And, by my body's action, teach my mind.
A most inherent baseness.

Vol. At thy choice then:

To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour,
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear
Thy dangerous stoutness; for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list.

Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me;
But owe thy pride thyself.

Cor. 'Pray, be content;

Mother, I am going to the marketplace;

Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, Cog their hearts from them, and come home belov'd