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gates by th' ears.
He will mow down all before him, and leave his passage poll'd. 2 Ser. And he's
as like to do't as any man I can imagine.
3 Ser. Do't! he will do't: for, look you, Sir, he has as many friends, as enemies ; which friends, Sir, as it were, durft not look you, Sir) shew themselves (as we term it) his friends, whilft he's in directitude.
i Ser. Directitude! what's that?
3 Ser. But when they shall see, Sir, his Crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burroughs (like conies after rain) and revel all with him.
i Ser. But when goes this forward ?
3 Ser. To morrow, to day, presently, you shall have the drum ftruck up this afternoon : 'tis, as it were, a parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.
2 Ser. Why, then we fhall have a stirring world again : this peace is worth nothing, but to rast iron, encrease tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
1 Ser. Let me have war, fay I; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night ; it's sprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy, mulld, deaf, fleepy, infenfible, a getter of more baftard children than war's a destroyer of men.
2 Ser. 'Tis fo; and as war in some fort may be faid to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.
i Ser. Ay, and it makes men hate one another. 3 Ser. Reason; because they then less need one another : the wars, for my mony. I hope, to see Romans as cheap as Volfcians. They are rising, they are rising. Both. In, in, in, in.
SCENE, SCENE, a publick Place in Rome.
Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
E hear not of him, neither need we
fear him ;
Bru. We stood to’t in good time. Is this Menenius ?
Sic. 'Tis he, 'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. Hail, Sir!
Men. Hail to you both!
Sic. Your Coriolanus is not much miss’d, but with his Friends ; the Commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, were he more angry at it.
Men. All's well, and might have been much better, if he could have temporiz’d.
(24) We hear not of him, neither need we fear him,
His Remedies are tame : the present Peace
Were in wild hurry.] As this Passage has been hither. to pointed, it labours under two Absurdities; first, that the Peace abroad, and the Quietness of the populace at home, are callid Marcins's Remedies ; whereas, in Truth, there were the Impediments of his Revenge: In the next place, the latter Branch of the Sentence is imperfect and un. grammatical. My Regulation prevents both these loconveniencies.
Sic. Where is he, hear you?
Men. Nay, I hear nothing :
Enter three or four Citizens.
you both. Sic. Live and thrive!
Bru: Farewel, kind neighbours :
All. Now the Gods keep you !
Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,
Brú. Caius Marcius was
Sic. And affecting one sole Throne,
Men. Nay, I think not so.
Sic. We had by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth Consul, found it fo.
Brú. The Gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without him.
Ædile. Worthy Tribunes,
Destroy what lies before 'em.
Men. 'Tis Aufidius,
Sic. Come, what talk you of Marcius !
Bru. Go see this rumourer whipt. It cannot be,
Men. Cannot be !
Sic. Tell not me :
Bru. Not poflible.
Enter a Mesenger.
Sic. 'Tis this slave :
Mes. Yes, worthy Sir,
Sic. What more fearful ?
Mes. It is spoke freely out of many mouths,
Aufidius, leads a Pow'r 'gainst Rome ;
Bru. Rais’d only, that the weaker fort may with Good Marcius home again.
Sic. The very trick on't.
Men. This is unlikely.
Mes. You are sent for to the Senate :
Com. Oh, you have made good Work.
Wives difhonour'd to your noses.
Com. Your Temples burned in their cement, and
Men. Pray now, the news ?
Com. If? he is their God; he leads them like a thing
Men. You've made good work,