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A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: Who being fo heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, 15
Seducing fo my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.

3 Con. Sir, his ftoutness,

When he did stand for conful, which he loft
By lack of stooping,

Auf. That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for 't, he came unto my hearth;
Prefented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint servant with me; gave him way
In all his own defires; nay, let him choose,
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and fresheft men; ferv'd his defignments
In mine own perfon; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took fome pride
To do myself this wrong: 'till, at the laft,
I feem'd his follower, not partner; and

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He wag'd me with his countenance, as if

I had been mercenary.

1 Con. So he did, my lord:

The army marvell'd at it.

And, in the last,

When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd For no less spoil, than glory,

Auf. There was it ;

Auf. Say no more;

Here come the lords.

Enter the Lords of the city.

Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf. I have not deferv'd it.

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you?

Lords. We have.

1 Lord. And grieve to hear it.

What faults he made before the laft, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin; and give away
The benefit of our levies, anfwering us
With our own charge 3; making a treaty, where
There was a yielding; This admits no excuse.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus, with drums and colours; the Com
mens being with him.

Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your foldier; 20 No more infected with my country's love, Than when I parted hence, but still subfisting Under your great command. You are to know, That profperoufly I have attempted, and With bloody paffage led your wars, even to 25 The gates of Rome. Our spoil, we have brought home,

For which my finews fhall be stretch'd upon him 2.4
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he fold the blood and labour
Of our great action; Therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

Doth more than counterpoife, a full third parts The charges of the action. We have made peace, With no lefs honour to the Antiates,

3 Than fhame to the Romans: And we here delivers Subfcrib'd by the confuls and patricians,


[Drums and trumpets found, with great shouts 45
of the people.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a poft. And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noife.

2 Con. And patient fools,

Whofe children he hath flain, their bafe throats tear,
With giving him glory.

3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he exprefs himself, or move the people

Together with the feal o' the fenate, what We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor, in the highest degree He hath abus'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor!-How now?

Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.

Cor. Marcius!


Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Doft thou I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy ftol'n name Coriolanus in Corioli?

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously He has betray'd your bufinefs, and given up, For certain drops of falt, your city Rome (I fay, your city) to his wife and mother: Breaking his oath and refolution, like A twift of rotten filk; never admitting Counfel o' the war; but at his nurfe's tears 5cHe whin'd and roar'd away your victory; That pages blufh'd at him, and men of heart Look'd wondering each at other.

With what he would fay, let him feel your fword, 55
Which we will fecond. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury
His reafons with his body,

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1 The meaning, according to Dr. Johnson, is, He preferibed to me with an air of authority, and gave me bis countenance for my wages; thought me fufficiently rewarded with good looks. point on which I will attack him with my utmost abilities.


3 That is, rewarding us with our own


on me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
is forc'd to fcold. Your judgments, my grave

I give this cur the lie: and his own notion

o wears my stripes impreft upon him; that 5

I bear my beating to his grave) shall join hrust the lie unto him.

Lard. Peace, both, and hear me speak.

r. Cut me to pieces, Volces, men and lads,
a all your edges in me.-Boy! Falfe hound!
bu have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
t, like an eagle on a dove-cote, I
ter'd your Volces in Corioli:

ne I did it.Boy!

f. Why, noble lords,

l you be put in mind of his blind fortune,

ich was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
re your own eyes and ears?
Al Con. Let him die for't.


Marcius, zuho falls, and Aufidius ftands in


Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold.

Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.
1 Lord. O Tullus,-

2 Lord. Thou haft done a deed, whereat
Valour will weep.

[quiet; 3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be Put up your fwords.

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this


Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
15 To call me to your fenate, I'll deliver
Myfelf your loyal fervant, or endure
Your heaviest cenfure.

El People. Tear him to pieces, do it prefently. 20 [The croud fpeak promiscuously.

kill'd my son,—My daughter,-He kill'd my coufin Marcus.

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1 Lord. Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corfe, that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.

2 Lord. His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.

25 Auf. My rage is gone,

And I am ftruck with forrow.-Take him up :
Help, three o' the chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your fteel pikes.-Though in this city he
30 Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he fhall have a noble memory 2.

[Aufidius and the Confpiraters draw, and kill 35

1i.e. his fame overspreads the world.

[Exeunt, bearing the body of Marcius. A dead march founded.

2 Memory, as before, for memorial,

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SCENE, for the three firft Alts, at Rome: afterwards at an Island near Mutina; at Sardis ; and near


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Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly, fir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no trade,-man's matters, nor woman's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, 5 fir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather, have gone upon my handywork.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?

Of your profeffion?-Speak, what trade art thou? 10 Why doft thou lead these men about the streets?

Car. Why, fir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What doft thou with thy best apparel on ?→→→→

You, fir; what trade are you?

Cob. Truly, fir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, fir, we make holiday, to fee Cæfar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Cab. Truly, fir, in respect of a fine workman, 15 Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings

I am but, as you would fay, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me


Cob. A trade, fir, that, I hope, I may use with a fafe confcience; which is, indeed, fir, a mender 20 of bad foals.

Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?

Cob. Nay, I beseech you, fir, be not out with me: Yet, if you be out, fir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou faucy fellow? Cob. Why, fir, cobble you.

he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you ftones, you worse than fenfelefs


O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
25 Your infants in your arms, and there have fat

The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To fee great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his chariot but appear,

3 B 3


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Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this Affemble all the poor men of your fort;

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Bru. I am not gamefome; I do lack fome part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears 15 Let me not hinder, Caffius, your defires;
Into the channel, 'till the lowest stream
Do kifs the most exalted fhores of all.

[Exeunt Commoners.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-ty'd in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: Difrobe the images,

If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies .
Mar. May we do fo?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Cæfar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæfar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;
Who else would foar above the view of men,
And keep us all in fervile fearfulness.

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Enter Cafar; Antony, for the course; Calpburnia,
Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Caffius, Cafca, a
Southfayer, &

Caf Calphurnia,


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I'll leave you.

Caf. Brutus, I do obferve you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And fhew of love, as I was wont to have:
20 You bear too stubborn and too strange + a hand
Over your friend that loves you.
Bru. Caffius,


Be not deceiv'd: If I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
25 Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with paffions of some difference 5,
Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give fome foil, perhaps, to my behaviours:
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd;
30(Among which number, Caffius, be you one)
Nor conftrue any further my neglect,


Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the fhews of love to other men.
Caf. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your

By means whereof, this breaft of mine hath bury'd
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Caffius: for the eye fees not itself,
40 But by reflection, by fome other things.
Caf. 'Tis juft:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no fuch mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,

45 That you might fee your shadow. I have heard
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæfar) fpeaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have with'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
50 Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Caffius,
That you would have me feek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Caf. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to hear:
And, fince you know you cannot fee yourself
55 So well as by reflection, I, your glass,

Will modeftly difcover to yourself
That of yourself which yet you know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laugher, or did use

1 Ceremonies for religious ornaments. 2 This perfon was not Decius, but Decimus Brutus. have before obferved, that Sennet appears to be a particular tune or mode of martial mufick. is alien, unfamiliar. 5 i. e. with a fluctuation of difcordant opinions and defires.

3 We

4 Strangt


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