Sic. Is 't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me and he no more remembers his mother now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery: he sits in his state as a thing made for Alexander: what he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.

Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger: that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire : Where have you lurked, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you!

[Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and drums

beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sack buts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again.

Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Patricians, and People. They pass over the stage. 1st Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, And make triumphant fires: strew flowers before them :

Unshout the noise that banished Marcius: Repeal him with the welcome of his mother: Cry, Welcome, ladies, welcome!

All. Welcome, ladies! welcome! [A flourish with drums and trumpets.—Exeunt.

3rd Con. The people will remain uncertain whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

Auf.

I know it:

And my pretext to strike at him admits

A good construction. I raised him, and I pawned Mine honour for his truth: who being so heightened,

He watered his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and to this end
He bowed his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3rd Con. Sir, his stoutness

When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf. That I would have spoken of:-
Being banished for 't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat. I took him :
Made him joint servant with me: gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men: served his design-
ments

In mine own person: holp to reap the fame
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till at the last
I seemed his follower, not partner; and
He waged me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.

1st Con.

So he did, my lord:

Enter the Lords of the City.

Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf.

I have not deserved it:

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused What I have written to you?

We have.

Lords. 1st Lord. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think Might have found easy fines: but there to end Where he was to begin, and give away The benefit of our levies, answering us With our own charge; making a treaty where There was a yielding: this admits of no excuse. Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him.

Enter CORIOLANUS, with drums and colours; a crowd of Citizens with him.

Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier:
No more infected with my country's love
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage led your wars even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought
home

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates
Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.

I'll
grace thee with that robbery, thy stolen name
Coriolanus in Corioli?—

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betrayed your business, and given up
For certain drops of salt your city Rome
(I say your city) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk: never admitting
Counsel o' the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roared away your victory,
That pages blushed at him, and men of heart
Looked wondering each at other.

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?

Con. Let him die for 't. [Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously]. Tear him to pieces; do it presently. He killed my son :my daughter :-he killed my cousin Marcus. -he killed my father.

2nd Lord. Peace, ho!-no outrage :-peace! The man is noble, and his fame folds in

This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.