gates by th' ears. He will mow down all before him, and leave his paffage 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) fhew themselves (as we term it) his friends, whilft he's in directitude. 1 Ser. Directitude! what's that? 3 Ser. But when they fhall fee, Sir, his Creft 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, prefently, you shall have the drum ftruck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a parcel of their feaft, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips. 2 Ser. Why, then we fhall have a ftirring world again this peace is worth nothing, but to raft 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 fprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy, mull'd, deaf, fleepy, infenfible, a getter of more baftard children than war's a destroyer of men. 2 Ser. 'Tis fo; and as war in fome fort may be faid to be a ravisher, fo it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds. 1 Ser. Ay, and it makes men hate one another. 3 Ser. Reafon; because they then lefs need one another the wars, for my mony. I hope, to fee Romans as cheap as Volfcians. They are rifing, they are rifing. Both. In, in, in, in. [Exeunt. SCENE, SCENE, a publick Place in Rome, Enter Sicinius and Brutus. Sic. (24) W E hear not of him, neither need we His remedies are tame i'th' prefent peace, Enter Menenius. Bru. We ftood 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 ftand, and fo 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 Paffage has been hitherto pointed, it labours under two Abfurdities; firft, that the Peace abroad, and the Quietness of the Populace at home, are call'd Marcius's Remedies; whereas, in Truth, these were the Impediments of his Revenge: In the next place, the latter Branch of the Sentence is imperfect and ungrammatical. My Regulation prevents both thefe Inconveniencies. Sic. Where is he, hear you? His mother and his wife hear nothing from him. 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 felves, our wives, and children, on our knees, Are bound to pray for you both. Sic. Live and thrive! Bru. Farewel, kind neighbours : We wish'd, Coriolanus had lov'd you, as we did. 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. Bru. Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i'th' war, but infolent, Sic. And affecting one fole Throne, Men. Nay, I think not fo. Sic. We had by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth Conful, found it fo. Bru. The Gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits fafe and ftill without him. Enter Edile. Edile. Worthy Tribunes, There is a flave, whom we have put in prison, And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy Destroy what lies before 'em. Men. 'Tis Aufidius, Who, hearing of our Marcius' Banishment, Thrufts forth his horns again into the world; Which were in-fhell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, . And durft not once peep out. Sic. Come, what talk you of Marcius! Bru. Go fee this rumourer whipt. It cannot be, The Volfcians dare break with us. Men. Cannot be ! We have Record, that very well it can ; Sic. Tell not me: Bru. Not poffible. Enter a Messenger. Me. The Nobles in great earneftness are going Sic. 'Tis this flave: Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes: his raifing! Mef. Yes, worthy Sir, The flave's report is feconded, and more, Sic. What more fearful? Mef. It is fpoke freely out of many mouths, Sic. This is most likely! T 3 Bru. Bru. Rais'd only, that the weaker fort may wish Good Marcius home again. Sic. The very trick on't. He and Aufidius can no more atone, Enter Meffenger. Mef. You are fent for to the Senate : Upon our territories; and have already Enter Cominius. Com. Oh, you have made good Work. Men. What news? what news? Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and To melt the city-leads upon your pates, To fee your Wives difhonour'd to your nofes. Men. What's the news? what's the news? Men. Pray now, the news? You've made fair work, I fear me: pray, your news? If Marcius fhould be joined with the Volfcians, Com. If he is their God; he leads them like a thing Made by fome other Deity than Nature, That shapes man better; and they follow him, Or butchers killing flies. Men. You've made good work, You and your apron-men; that food so much Upon |