Cor. You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate 120 As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize

As the dead carcasses of unburied men

That do corrupt my air, I banish you;
And here remain with your uncertainty!
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair! Have the power still
To banish your defenders; till at length
Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
Making not reservation of yourselves,
Still your own foes, deliver you as most
Abated captives to some nation
That won you without blows! Despising,
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere.

130

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, Menenius, Senators and Patricians.

Ed. The people's enemy is gone, is gone!

Citizens. Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! [They all shout, and throw up their caps.

Sic. Go, see him out at gates, and follow him,
As he hath follow'd you, with all despite;
Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard
Attend us through the city.

Citizens. Come, come, let's see him out at gates; come.
The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.

140

[Exeunt.

ACT FOURTH.

Scene I.

Rome. Before a gate of the city.

Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius,
Cominius, with the young Nobility of Rome.

Cor. Come, leave your tears; a brief farewell: the beast
With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage? you were used
To say extremity was the trier of spirits;
That common chances common men could bear;
That when the sea was calm all boats alike
Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows,
When most struck home, being gentle wounded,

craves

A noble cunning: you were used to load me
With precepts that would make invincible

The heart that conn'd them.

Vir. O heavens! O heavens!

Cor.

Nay, I prithee, woman,

Vol. Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,
And occupations perish!

Cor.

What, what, what!
I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother,
Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say,
If you had been the wife of Hercules,

Six of his labours you 'ld have done, and saved
Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,

ΙΟ

Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother.
I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, 21

Vol.

Thy tears are salter than a younger man's,
And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general,
I have seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld
Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women,
'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes,

As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well
My hazards still have been your solace: and
Believe 't not lightly-though I go alone,

Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen

30

Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen your son
Will or exceed the common, or be caught

With cautelous baits and practice.

My first son,

Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
With thee awhile: determine on some course,
More than a wild exposture to each chance
That starts i' the way before thee.

Cor.
O the gods!
Com. I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee

Cor.

Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us
And we of thee: so, if the time thrust forth

A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
O'er the vast world to seek a single man,
And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
I' the absence of the needer.

40

Fare ye well:
Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full
Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate.
Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,
Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. 50

Men.

While I remain above the ground, you shall
Hear from me still, and never of me aught
But what is like me formerly.

That's worthily

As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
If I could shake off but one seven years
From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,

The same. A street near the gate.

Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius and Brutus,
with the Edile.

Sic. Bid them all home; he's gone, and we 'll no further.
The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided
In his behalf.

Bru.

Sic.

Bru.

Now we have shown our power,
Let us seem humbler after it is done
Then when it was a-doing.

Bid them home:

Say their great enemy is gone, and they
Stand in their ancient strength.

Dismiss them home. [Exit Ædile.

Here comes his mother.

Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.

Sic. Bru.

Let's not meet her.

Why?

Sic. They say she's mad.

ΙΟ

Bru. They have ta’en note of us: keep on your way.
Vol. O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the

gods

Requite your love!

Men.
Peace, peace; be not so loud.
Vol. If that I could for weeping, you should hear,-

Nay, and you shall hear some. [To Brutus] Will
you be gone?

Vir. [To Sicinius] You shall stay too: I would I had the

Sic.

Are you mankind?

Note but this fool.
Hadst thou foxship

To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
Than thou hast spoken words?

O blessed heavens! 20
Vol. Moe noble blows than ever thou wise words;
And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go:
Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son
Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,
His good sword in his hand.

Sic.

Vir.

What then?

What then!

He 'ld make an end of thy posterity.

Vol. Bastards and all.

Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!

Men. Come, come, peace.

Sic. I would he had continued to his country

As he began, and not unknit himself

The noble knot he made.

30

Bru.

I would he had.