fect my brain, being the herdsman of the beastly plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave of you. [BRUTUS and SICINIUS retire to the back of the Scene. Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA, &c. How now, my as fair as noble ladies, (and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler) whither do you follow your eyes so fast? Vol. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go. Men. Ha! Marcius coming home? Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation. Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Ho! Marcius coming home? Two Ladies. Nay, 't is true. Vol. Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath another, his wife another; and, I think, there 's one at home for you. Men. I will make my very house reel to-night. me? A letter for Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it. Men. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. Vir. O! no, no, no. Vol. O! he is wounded; I thank the gods for 't. Men. So do I too, if it be not too much. in his pocket? - The wounds become him. Brings 'a victory Vol. On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home with the oaken garland. Men. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? Vol. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off. Men. And 't was time for him too; I'll warrant him that: an he had stay'd by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? Vol. Good ladies, let's go. — Yes, yes, yes: the senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war. He hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly. Val. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. Men. Wondrous: ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing. Vir. The gods grant them true! Vol. True! pow, wow. Men. True! I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? - God save your good worships! [To the Tribunes, who come forward.] Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud. — Where is he wounded? Vol. I' the shoulder, and i' the left arm: there will be large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. Men. One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh, — there 's nine that I know. Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him. Men. Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. [A Shout and Flourish.] Hark! the trumpets. Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; Which, being advanc'd, declines, and then men die. A Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and TITUS LABTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken Garland; with Captains, Soldiers, and a Herald. Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight Within Corioli's gates: where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! {Flourish. All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! What is it? Coriolanus, must I call thee? But O! thy wife Cor. My gracious silence, hail! Would'st thou have laugh'd, had I come coffin'd home, Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, And mothers that lack sons. Now, the gods crown thee! Men. [TO VALERIA Vol. I know not where to turn: O! welcome home; And welcome, general; — and you are welcome all. Men. A hundred thousand welcomes: I could weep, That is not glad to see thee! - You are three, That Rome should dote on; yet, by the faith of men, We have some old crab-trees here at home, that will not We call a nettle, but a nettle; and The faults of fools, but folly. The good patricians must be visited; From whom I have receiv'd, not only greetings, But with them change of honours. Vol. To see inherited my very wishes, And the buildings of my fancy: I have lived Only there's one thing wanting, which I doubt not, Cor. Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way, Than sway with them in theirs. Com. [Flourish. On, to the Capitol! Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. The Tribunes remain. Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens Sic. I warrant him consul. Bru. On the sudden Then our office may, During his power, go sleep. Sic. He cannot temperately transport his honours From where he should begin, and end; but will Bru. In that there 's comfort. Sic. Doubt not, the commoners, for whom we stand, Forget, with the least cause, these his new honours; Were he to stand for consul, never would he Nor, showing (as the manner is) his wounds Sic. 'T is right. Bru. It was his word. O! he would miss it, rather Than carry it but by the suit o' the gentry to him, And the desire of the nobles. Sic. I wish no better, Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it Sic. It shall be to him, then, as our good wills, To him, or our authorities. For an end, We must suggest the people, in what hatred He still hath held them; that to his power he would In human action and capacity, Of no more soul, nor fitness for the world, Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them. Sic. This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence 3 |