Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

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.

[blocks in formation]

Enter the Ladies, accompanied b, SENATORS,
PATRICIANS, and People. They pass over the
Stage.

1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of
Rome:

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 en- Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, gine, and the ground shrinks before his tread-Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; ing. He is able to pierce a corslet with his Cry,-Welcome, ladies, welcome!eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a bat- All. Welcome, ladies! tery. He sits in his state, as a thing madet for Welcome! Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a beaven to throne in.

Call all your tribes together praise the gods, And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them:

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report bim 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.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your
house;

The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune,
And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.

Enter another MESSENGER.

Sic. What's the news?

Mess. Good news, good news;-The ladies
have prevail'd,

The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic. Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire:

of it?

Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt
[tide,
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown
As the recomforted through the gates. Why,
hark you;
[Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums
beaten, all together. Shouting also within.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
Make the sun dance. Hark you!

[Shouting again.

[day;

Men. This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full: of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and Music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tid.

ings: next, Accept my thankfulness. Mess. Sir, we have all

* May but for it. + Chair of state. To resemble.

[A flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt.

SCENE-A alium. —A Pablic Place.
Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants.
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here:
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse,
The city portst by this hath enter'd, and
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words: Despatch.

[Exeunt Attendants.

[blocks in formation]

Auf. I know it;

And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I rais'd him, and I
pawn'd
[ten'd,
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heigh
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,

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

Auf. That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd 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; serv'd his design-

ments

[blocks in formation]

I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance,* as if
I had been mercenary.

1 Con. So he did, my lord:

The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome; and that we look'd For no less spoil, than glory,

Auf. There was it;

For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.

At a few drops of women's rheum,+ which are As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour Of our great action; Therefore shall he die, And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and Trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post,

And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools,

Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear,

With giving him glory.

3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage,

Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword,

Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body.

Auf. Say no more;

Here comes the lords.

Enter the LORDS of the City.

Lords. You are most welcome home.

Auf. I have not deserv'd it,

Cor. Traitor!-How now? Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius. Cor. Marcius!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think

I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n

name

Coriolanus in Corioli?

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd 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 whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars?

Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more.t

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart

Too great for what contains it. Boy! ( slave!

Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forc'd to scold. Your judgements, my grave lords,

Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion (Who wears my stripes impress'd on him; that must bear

My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust The lie unto him.

1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; inen and lads,

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False

What I have written to you?

Lords. We have.

1 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 no excuse.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter CORIOLANUS, with Drums and Colours; a
Croud of CITIZENS with him.

Cor. Hail, lords! I am returned your

dier;

hound!

If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your voices in Corioli:
Alone I did it.-Boy!

Auf. Why, noble lords,

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; sol--He killed my father.

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

[blocks in formation]

2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage;-peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o'the earth. His last offence to us Shall have judicious hearing.-Stand, AufAnd trouble not the peace. [dius,

Cor. O, that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!

Auf. Insolent villain!

[blocks in formation]

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in 2 Lord. His own impatience this rage, Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great dan-Let's make the best of it.

Takes from Aufidius à great part of blame.

[blocks in formation]

Auf. My rage is gone,

And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up:
Help, three o'the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory."
Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLA
NUS. A dead March sounded,
• Memorial.

2 X

[blocks in formation]

1

[blocks in formation]

1 Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?— You, Sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad soals.

Mar. What trade, thou knave; thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, Sir, I can mend

you.

Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art tnout

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when

!

they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather, have gone upon my handy-work.

Flav But wherefore art not in thy shop today? [streets? Why dost thou lead these men about the 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, Sir, we make holiday to see Cesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than sense-

less things!

O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made a universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone;

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flar. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this

fault,

JULIUS CESAR.

Assemble all the poor men of your sort;*
Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your
Into the channel, till the lowest stream [tears
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
See, whe'rt their basest metal be not mov'd;
[Exeunt CITIZENS.
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: Disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
Mar. May we do so?

You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flav. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Cesar's trophies. I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cesar's
wing,

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch;
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

[Exeunt.

691

I'll leave you.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And show of love, as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Cassius,

I turn the trouble of my countenance
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil, perhaps, to my beha
[griev'd;

viours:

But let not therefore my good friends be
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one ;)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook
your passion,

By means whereof, this breast of mine hath
buried

AN-Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.

SCENE II-The same.-A public Place.
Enter, in Procession, with Music, CESAR;
TONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA,
DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and
CASCA, a great Crowd following, among them
a SOOTHSAYER.

Ces. Calphurnia,

But by reflection, by some other things.
Bru. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,
Cas. 'Tis just:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
[Music ceases. Where many of the best respect in Rome,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,

Casca. Peace, ho! Cesar speaks.

Ces. Calphurnia,—
Cal. Here, my lord.

Ces. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course.§-Antonius. Ant. Cesar, my lord.

Ces. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their steril curse.

Ant. I shall remember:

When Cesar says, Do this, it is perform'd.
Ces. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

Sooth. Cesar.

Ces. Ha! who calls?

[Music.

Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet
again.
Ces. Who is it in the press,|| that calls on
[Music ceuses.

me?

I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
Cry, Cesar: Speak; Cesar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
Ces. What man is that!

Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides
of March.

Ces. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cesar.

Ces. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.

South. Beware the ides of March.

pass.

Ces. He is a dreamer: let us leave him;
[Sennet.¶ Exeunt all out BRU. and CAS.
Cas. Will you go see the order of the course?
Bru. Not I.

Cas. I pray you, do.

Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. [part

* Rank.

+ Whether.
Honorary ornaments; tokens of respect.
A ceremony observed at the feast of Lupercalia.
Crowd.
Flourish of instruments.

(Except immortal Cesar,) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me,
Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar❜d to

hear:

And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus:
To stalet with ordinary oaths my love
Were I a common laugher, or did use
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
To every new protester; if you know
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and shout.
Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear,
the people
Choose Cesar for their king.

Then must I think you would not have it so.
Cas. Ay, do you fear it?
Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him
well:-

But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
If it be aught toward the general good,
What is it that you would impart to me?
Set honour in one eye, and death i'the other,
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
And I will look on both indifferently:

The name of honour more than I fear death.

As well as I do know your outward favour.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.-
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
† Allure.

The nature of your feelings.

« ZurückWeiter »