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Enter CORIOLANUS, with Drums and Colours; a Crowd of
Citizens with him.
Cor. Hạil, lords! I am return'd your soldier;
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 peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans; and we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.
Read it not, noble lords;
But tell the traitor in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor! How now!
Ay, traitor, 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.
Mars? Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears.
Auf. No more.
Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!
Pardon me, lords, 't is the first time that ever
I was forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave) shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.
Peace both, and hear me speak.
Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. · Boy! False hound!
If you have writ your annals true, 't is there,
That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:
Alone I did it.
Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unboly braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?
All Con. Let him die for 't.
All People. Tear him to pieces; do it presently. He killed my son; my daughter: he killed my cousin Marcus: -
- he killed my father.
2 Lord. Peace, ho! no outrage :
The map is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. - Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
0! that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!
All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
[AUPIDIUS and the Conspirators draw, and kill CoRio-
LANUS, who falls: AUPIDIUS stands on him.
Hold, hold, hold, hold ! Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. 1 Lord.
O Tullus! 2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
3 Lord. Tread not upon him. - Masters all, be quiet. Put up your swords.
Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage,
Provok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you 'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded,
As the most noble corse that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.
His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.
My rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him ap:
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. -
(Exeunt, bearing the Body of CORIOLANUS.
A dead March sounded.
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
PARIS, a young Nobleman, Kins-
man to the Prince.
MONTAGUE, Heads of two hostile
Uncle to Capulet.
PETER, Another Servant to Capu-
ABRAM, Servant to Montague.
CHORUS. Boy; Page to Paris;
LADY MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague.
ROMEO, Son to Montague.
MERCUTIO, Kinsman to the Prince,
and Friend to Romeo.
BENVOLIO, Nephew to Montague,
and Friend to Romeo.
TYBALT, Nephew to Lady Capulet.
FRIAR LAURENCE, a Franciscan.
FRIAR JOHN, of the same Order.
BALTHASAR, Servant to Romeo.
Citizens of Verona; male and female Relations to both Houses; Maskers,
Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.
LADY CAPULET, Wife to Capulet.
JULIET, Daughter to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.
SCENE, during the greater Part of the Play, in Verona: once, in the fifth Act, at Mantua.
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows
Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife.