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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.


$ic. (24)

E hear not of him, neither need we

fear him ;
His remedies are tame i'ch' present peace,
And quietness o'th' People, which before
Were in wild hurry. Here we make his Friends
Blush, that the world goes well ; who rather had,
Though they themselves did suffer by't, beheld
Dissentious numbers peft'ring streets, than fee
Our Tradesmen singing in their shops, and going
About their functions friendly.

Enter Menenius.

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
And Quietness o'th' People, which before

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.


T 2

Sic. Where is he, hear you?

Men. Nay, I hear nothing :
His mother and his wife hear nothing from him.

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Enter three or four Citizens.
All. The Gods preserve you both!
Sic. Good-e'en, neighbours.
Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all.
1 Cit. Our selves, our wives, and children, on our

Are bound to pray


you both. Sic. Live and thrive!

Bru: Farewel, kind neighbours :
We wish'd, Coriolanus had lov'd you, as we did.

All. Now the Gods keep you !
Both Tri. Farewel, farewel. [Exeunt Citizens.

Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,
Than when these fellows ran about the streets,
Crying confufion.

Brú. Caius Marcius was
A worthy officer i'th' war, but insolent,
O'ercome with pride, ambitious paft all thinking,

Sic. And affecting one sole Throne,
Without Assistance.

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.

Enter Ædile,

Ædile. Worthy Tribunes,
There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
Reports, the Volscians with two several Powers
Are entred in the Roman Territories ;
And with the deepest malice of the war


Destroy what lies before 'em.

Men. 'Tis Aufidius,
Who, hearing of our Marcius' Banishment,
Thrusts forth his horns again into the world ;
Which were in-Thelld when Marcius stood for Rome,
And durft not once peep out.

Sic. Come, what talk you of Marcius !

Bru. Go see this rumourer whipt. It cannot be,
The Volfcians dare break with us.

Men. Cannot be !
We have Record, that very well it can ;
And three examples of the like have been
Within my age. But reason with the fellow
Before you punish him, where he heard this ;
Left you should chance to whip your information,
And beat the messenger, who bids beware
Of what is to be dreaded.

Sic. Tell not me :
I know, this cannot be.

Bru. Not poflible.

Enter a Mesenger.
Mel: The Nobles in great earnestness are going
All to the Senate-house; some news is come,
That turns their countenances.

Sic. 'Tis this slave :
Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes : his raising !
Nothing but his report!

Mes. Yes, worthy Sir,
The slave's report is seconded, and more,
More fearful is delivered.

Sic. What more fearful ?

Mes. It is spoke freely out of many mouths,
How probable I do not know, that Marcius,
Join'd with

Aufidius, leads a Pow'r 'gainst Rome ;
And vows Revenge as spacious, as between
The young ft and oldest thing.
sic. This is most likely!

T 3


Bru. Rais’d only, that the weaker fort may with Good Marcius home again.

Sic. The very trick on't.

Men. This is unlikely.
He and Au fidius can no more atone,
Than violenteft contrariety.

Enter Messenger.

Mes. You are sent for to the Senate :
A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius,
Associated with Aufidius, rages
Upon our territories; and have already
O'er-borne their way, confum'd with fire, and took
What lay before them.

Enter Cominius.

Com. Oh, you have made good Work.
Men, What news! what news?
Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters,

To melt the city-leads upon your pates,
To see


Wives difhonour'd to your noses.
Men. What's the news? what's the news ?

Com. Your Temples burned in their cement, and
Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd
Into an augre's bore.

Men. Pray now, the news ?
You've made fair work, I fear me: pray, your news?
If Marcius should be joined with the Volscians,-

Com. If? he is their God; he leads them like a thing
Made by some other Deity than Nature,
That shapes man better ; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no lefs conídence,
Than boys pursuing summer butter-flies,
Or butchers killing flies.

Men. You've made good work,
You and your apron-men ; that stood fo much


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