ACT III. SCENE, a publick Street in Rome. Cornets. T Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, Titus Lartius, and other Senators. CORIOLANU S. Ullus Aufidius then had made new head ? Our fwifter compofition. Cor. So then the Volfcians ftand but as at first, Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road Upon's again. Com. They're worn, Lord Conful, fo, That we shall hardly in our ages fee Their Banners wave again. Cor. Saw you Aufidius? Lart. On fafe-guard he came to me, and did curfe Against the Volfcians, for they had fo vilely Yielded the Town; he is retir'd to Antium. Cor. Spoke he of me? Lart. He did, my Lord. Cor. How?- what? Lart. How often he had met you, fword to fword: That of all things upon the earth he hated Your perfon moft: that he would pawn his fortunes To hopeless reftitution, fo he might Be call'd your vanquisher. Cor. At Antium lives he? Lart. At Antium. Cor. I with, I had a cause to feek him there; To oppofe his hatred fully.-Welcome home. [To Lartius, Enter Enter Sicinius and Brutus. Behold! these are the Tribunes of the people, Against all noble sufferance.. Sic. Pafs no further. Cor. Hah! what is that! Bru. It will be dangerous to go on-no further. Cor. What makes this change? Men. The matter? Com. Hath he not pafs'd the Nobles and the Commons? Bru. Cominius, no. Cor. Have I had childrens' voices? Sen. Tribunes, give way; he shall to th' market place. Bru. The people are incens'd against him. Or all will fall in broil. Cor. Are these your herd? Must these have voices, that can yield them now, And ftraight disclaim their tongues? what are your offices? You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? Have you not set them on? Men. Be calm, be calm. Cor. It is a purpos'd thing, and grows by plot, Suffer't, and live with fuch as cannot rule, Bru. Call't not a plot ; The people cry, you mock'd them; and, of late, Cor. Why, this was known before. Bru. Not to them all. Cor. Have you inform'd them fince? Car: Cor. You are like to do fuch business. Cor. Why then fhould I be Conful? by yond clouds, Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me Your Fellow-Tribune. Sic. You fhew too much of That, For which the people ftir; if you will pafs To where you're bound, you must enquire your way Nor yoke with him for Tribune. Men. Let's be calm. Com. The people are abus'd. paltring (14) Becomes not Rome: nor has Coriolanus Deferv'd this fo dishonour'd Rub, laid falfly Cor. Tell me of corn! This was my fpeech, and I will speak't again Sen. Not in this heat, Sir, now. As for my nobler friends, I crave their pardons: Let them regard me, as I do not flatter, In foothing them, we nourish 'gainst our Senate Which we our felves have plow'd for, fow'd and fcatter'd, By mingling them with us, the honour'd number: (14) The People are abus'd, set on; ] This is pointed, as if the Senfe were, the People are fet on by the Tribunes: but I don't take That to be the Poet's Meaning. Cominius makes a fingle Reflexion, and then bids the Train fet forward, as again afterwards; Well, On to th' Market place. And so in Julius Cafar; Set on, and leave no Ceremony ont Which we have given to beggars. .Men. Well, no more Sen. No more words, we beseech you- As for my Country I have shed my blood, Bru. You fpeak o'th' people, as you were a God To punish, not a man of their infirmity. Sic. 'Twere well, we let the people know't. Men. What, what! his choler? Cor. Choler! were I as patient as the midnight fleep, By Jove, 'twould be my mind. Sic. It is a mind That shall remain a poison where it is, Not poifon any further. Cor. Shall remain ? Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you Com. 'Twas from the canon. Cor. Shall! O good, but most unwife Patricians, why, That with his peremptory hall, being but thus The horn and noife o'th' monfters, wants not fpirit It It makes the Confuls bafe; and my foul akes Com. Well-On to th' market-place. Cor. Who ever gave that counsel, to give forth The corn o' th' ftore-houfe, gratis, as 'twas us'd Sometime in Greece Men. Well, well, no more of that. Cor. Though there the People had more abfolute I fay, they nourish'd difobedience, fed The ruin of the State. Bru. Why fhall the people give One, that speaks thus, their voice? Cor. I'll give my reasons, More worthy than their voice. They know, the corn They ne'er did fervice for't; being preft to th' war, The Senate's courtefie? let deeds exprefs, What's like to be their words- "We did request it"We are the greater poll, and in true fear 66 They gave us our demands. ". -Thus we debafe The nature of our Seats, and make the rabble Call our cares, fears; which will in time break ope To peck the eagles. Men. Come, enough." Bru. Enough, with over measure. Cor. No, take more. What |