Look, I am going: Of all the trades in Rome. Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; I'the way of flattery, further. Vol. Do your will. Com. Arm yourself [Exit VOLUMNIA. To answer mildly; for they are prepar'd With accusations, as I hear, more strong Than are upon you yet. Cor. The word is, mildly:-'Pray you, let us go : Let them accuse me by invention; I Men. Ay, but mildly. Cor. Well, mildly be it then-mildly! SCENE III. The Forum in Rome. [Exeunt. Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and the CITIZENS, Bru. Put him to choler straight: He hath been us'd Ever to conquer, and to have his worth Of contradiction. Being once chaf'd, he cannot Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS. Sic. Well, here he comes. Men. Calmly, I do beseech you. Cor. The honour'd gods Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice Supply'd with worthy men! plant love among us! Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, And not our streets with war! Men. Amen, amen! A noble wish. Sic. Draw near, ye people. Cor. Shall I be charg'd no further than this pre sent? Must all determine here? Sic. I do demand, If you submit you to the people's voices, To suffer lawful censure for such faults Cor. I am content. Men. Lo, citizens, he says he is content: The warlike service he has done, consider; Think on the wounds his body bears, which show Cor. Scratches with briars. What is the matter, That being pass'd for consul with full voice, I'm so dishonour'd, that the very hour You take it off again? Sic. Answer to us. Cor. Say then 'tis true, I ought so. Sic. We charge you, that you have contriv'd to take From Rome all season'd office, and to wind Yourself into a power tyrannical; For which you are a traitor to the people. Men. Nay; temperately :-Your promise. Cor. The fires i'the lowest hell fold in the people! Call me their traitor!—thou injurious tribune! Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say, Thou liest, unto thee, with a voice as free As I do pray the gods. Sic. Mark you this, people? All. To the rock with him; to the rock with him! Sic. Peace: We need not put new matter to his charge; What you have seen him do, and heard him speak, Bru. But since he hath Serv'd well for Rome, Cor. What do you prate of service? Bru. I talk of that, that know it, I pray you, Cor. I'll know no further: Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, As much as in him lies, from time to time, Even from this instant, banish him our city. Com. Hear me, my masters, and my common friends ; Bru. There is no more to be said, but he is banish'd, As enemy to the people, and his country: It shall be so. All. It shall be so, it shall be so. Cor. Ye common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o'the rotten fens,-whose loves I prize Deliver you, as most Abated captives, to some nation That won you without blows!-Despising now, There is a world elsewhere. [The PEOPLE shout.-Exeunt. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. A Street in Antium. Enter CORIOLANUS in mean Apparel, disguised, and muffled. Cor. A goodly city is this Antium: City, Tis I that made thy widows; many an heir Of these fair edifices, 'fore my wars, Have I heard groan, and drop: then know me not; Lest that thy wives with spits, and boys with stones, In puny battle slay me. Enter a VOLSCIAN OFFICER. Save you, sir. Offi. And you. Cor. Direct me, if it be your will, Where great Aufidius lies: Is he in Antium ? Cor. Which is his house, 'beseech you? Offi. This here, before you. Cor. Thank you, sir; farewell. O, world, thy slippery turns! sworn, [Exit OFFICEr. Friends now Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, fast Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, On a dissension of a doit, break out Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick, not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends, And interjoin their issues. So with me: My birthplace hate I, and my love's upon This enemy town.-I'll enter: if he slay me, [Exit. SCENE II. A Room in AUFIDIUS' House in Antium. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and VOLUSIUS. Volu. Whence is it, Tullus, that our arms are stopp'd Here on the borders of the Roman state? Why sleeps that spirit, whose heroic ardour Urg'd you to break the truce, and pour'd our host, |