Cres. O, all you gods!-O pretty, pretty pledge!
Thy master now lies thinking in his bed

Of thee and me; and sighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,

As I kiss thee.--Nay, do not snatch it from me;
He that takes that must take my heart withal.
Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it.
Tro. I did swear patience.

Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; 'faith, you shall

I'll give you something else.

Dio. I will have this; whose was it?

Cres. 'Tis no matter.

Dio. Come, tell me whose it was.

[not;

Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than you will. But, now you have it, take it.

By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressin. Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?

Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. Ther. Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?

Tro. This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida.

If beauty have a soul, this is not she;

If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimony,
If sanctimony be the gods' delight,

If there be rule in unity itself,

This was not she. O madness of discourse,
That cause sets up with and against itself!
Bifold authority! where reason can revolt
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
Without revolt; this is, and is not, Cressid!
Within my soul there doth commence a fight
Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate
Divides more wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the spacious breadth of this division
Admits no orifice for a point, as subtle
As is Arachne's broken woof, to enter.
Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates;
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;
The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolved, and loosed;
And with another knot, five-finger-tied,

The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, scraps, the bits, and greasy reliques
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his passion doth express?
Tro. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
In characters as red as Mars his heart
Inflamed with Venus: never did young man fancy
With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.

Hark, Greek; -as much as I do Cressid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
That sleeve is mine that he'll bear on his helm;
Were it a casque composed by Vulcan's skill,
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout.
Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
Constringed in mass by the almighty sun,
Shall dizzy with more elamour Neptune's ear
In his descent, than shall my prompted sword
Falling on Diomed.

Ther. He'll tickle it for his concupy.

Tro. O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false
Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
And they'll seem glorious.

Ulyss. O, contain yourself;

Your passion draws ears hither.

Enter CASSANDRA.

Cas. Where is my brother Hector?

And. Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent. Consort with me in loud and dear petition,

Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd

Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night

Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. Cas. O, it is true.

Hect. Ho! bid my trumpet sound!

Cas. No notes of sally for the heavens, sweet brother. Hect. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me swear,

Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows:
They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

And. O, be persuaded! do not count it holy
To hurt by being just: it is as lawful,

For we would give much, to use violent thefts,

And rob in the behalf of charity.

Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold:
Unarm, sweet Hector.

Hect. Hold you still, I say;

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate:
Life every man holds dear; but the dear man
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.-
Enter TROILUS.

How now, young man? mean'st thou to fight to-day?
And. Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
[Exit CASSANDRA.
Hect. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness,
I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry:
[youth,
Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
I'll stand to-day for thee, and me, and Troy.

Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
Which better fits a lion than a man.

Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it. Tro. When many times the captive Grecians fall, Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,

You bid them rise and live.

Hect. O, 'tis fair play.

Tro. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.

Hect. How now? how now?

Tro. For the love of all the gods,

Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother;
And when we have our armours buckled on,
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords;
Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
Hect. Fie, savage, fie!

Tro. Hector, then 'tis wars.

Hect. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
Tro. Who should withhold me?

Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,

Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way,
But by my ruin.

Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM.
Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast
He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
Fall all together.

Pri. Come, Hector, come, go back:

Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had visions; Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself

Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,

To tell thee that this day is ominous:
Therefore come back.

Hect. Eneas is a-field;

And I do stand engaged to many Greeks,

Even in the faith of valour, to appear

This morning to them.

Pri. But thou shalt not go.

Hect. I must not break my faith.

You know me dutiful; therefore, dear Sir,
Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
To take that course by your consent and voice,
Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
Cas. O Priam, yield not to him!
And. Do not, dear father.

Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you:
Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

Hect. You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim: Go in and cheer the town: we'll forth and fight; Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night.

Pan. Here's a letter from yon poor girl.
Tro. Let me read.

Pan. A whoreson ptisick, a whoreson rascally ptisick so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl; and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one o' these days: and I have a rheum in mine eyes too; and such an ache in my bones, that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to think on't.-What says she there?

Tro. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart; [Tearing the letter. The effect doth operate another way.Go, wind to wind, there turn and change together.My love with words and errors still she feeds; But edifies another with her deeds. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV. Between TROY and the Grecian Camp. Alarums: Excursions. Enter THERSITES. Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave's slecve of Troy there, in his helm: I would fain see them meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeveless errand. O' the other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals, -that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses,-is not proved worth a blackberry-they set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion.-Soft! here comes sleeve and t' other.

Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following. Tro. Fly not; for, shouldst thou take the river Styx, I would swim after.

Dio. Thou dost miscall retire:

I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
Have at thee!

Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian!-now for thy whore, Trojan!-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!

[Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES fighting.

And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame.—
There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot,
And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls
Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
Fall down before him, like the mower's swath:
Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes;
Dexterity so obeying appetite,

That what he will, he does; and does so much,
That proof is call'd impossibility.

Enter ULYSSES.

Ulyss. O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance: Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons,

That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to
Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend, [him,
And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd, and at it,
Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
Mad and fantastic execution;
Engaging and redeeming of himself,

With such a careless force and forceless care,
As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
Bade him win all.

Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.
Ther. What art thou?

Mar. A bastard son of Priam's.

Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind. bastard in valour, in everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment: farewell, bastard.

Mar. The devil take thee, coward!

SCENE IX.-The same.

Enter HECTOR.

[Exeunt.

Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without,
Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death!
[Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shie'd behind him-
Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
Even with the veil and dark'ning of the sun,
To close the day up, Hector's life is done.

Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek. Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek. [HECTOR falls.

So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down!
Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.--
On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain,
"Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain." -

[A retreat sounded,

Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part.
Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth,
And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
Pleased with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.-
[Sheathes his sword.

Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
Along the field I will the Trojan trail.

SCENE X.-The same.

[Exeunt.

Tro. You understand me not that tell me so:
I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death;
But dare all imminence, that gods and men
Address their dangers in. Hector is gone!
Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?

Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd,
Go in to Troy, and say there--Hector's dead:
There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away:
Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
Stay yet. You vile abominable tents,,

Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
Let Titan rise as early as he dare,

I'll through and through you!-And, thou great-sized
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates; [coward!

I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts.-
Strike a free march to Troy!-with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

[Exeunt ENEAS and Trojans.

18 TROILUS is going out, enter from the other side PANDARUS.

Pan. But hear you, hear you!

Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy rame.

[Exit TROILUS. Pan. A goodly medicine for my aching bones!-0 world! world! world! thus is the poor agent despised! O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a' work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be so loved, and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it?-Let me see:

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
And being once subdued in armed tail,
Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.—

Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths.
Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall:
As many as be here of pander's hall,
Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,

Some two months hence my will shall here be made:
It should be now, but that my fear is this,-
Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss;
Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases;
And at that time bequeath you my diseases.

[Exit.

CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, a noble Roman.
TITUS LARTIUS,

COMINICS, } Generals against the Volscians.

MENENIUS AGRIPPA, Friend to CORIOLANUS.

SICINIUS VELUTUS, Tribunes of the People.
JUNIUS BRUTUS,

Young MARCIUS, Son to CORIOLANUS.

A Roman Herald.

TULLUS AUFIDIUS, General of the Volscians. Lieutenant to AUFIDIUS.

Conspirators with AUFIDIUS.

A Citizen of Antium.

Two Volscian Guards.

VOLUMNIA, Mother to CORIOLANUS.
VIRGILIA, Wife to CORIOLANUS.
VALERIA, Friend to VIRGILIA.

Gentlewoman, attending on VIRGILIA.

1 Cit. First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.

Cit. We know 't, we know 't.

1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict?

Cit. No more talking on 't; let it be done: away, away. 2 Cit. One word, good citizens.

1 Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good. What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularise their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them. Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?

Cit. Against him first; he's a very dog to the commonalty.

2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country.

1 Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for 't, but that he pays himself with being proud.

2 Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

1 Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he

I did it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be content to say it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

2 Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous. 1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o' the city is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!

Cit. Come, come.

1 Cit. Soft! who comes here?

Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA.

The gods, not the patricians, make it; and
Your knees to them, not aims, must help. Alack,
You are transported by calamity

Thither where more attends you; and you slander
The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,
When you curse them as enemies.

1 Cit. Care for us!-True, indeed!--They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich; and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,

Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you

A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;

But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To stale't a little more.

1 Cit. Well, I'll hear it, Sir; yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please you, deliver.

Men. There was a time when all the body's members
Rebell'd against the belly; thus accused it:-
That only like a gulf it did remain

I' the midst o' the body, idle and inactive,
Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

Like labour with the rest; where the other instruments
Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered,-

1 Cit. Well, Sir, what answer made the belly?
Men. Sir, I shall tell you--With a kind of smile,
Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus
(For, look you, I may make the belly smile
As well as speak) it tauntingly replied

To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
As you malign our senators, for that
They are not such as you.

1 Cit. Your belly's answer? What!
The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabric, if that they-
Men. What then?-

'Fore me, this fellow speaks!-what then? what then? 1 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, Who is the sink o' the body,-

If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little)
Patience a while, you'll hear the belly's answer.
1 Cit. You are long about it.
Men. Note me this, good friend:

Your most grave belly was deliberate,

Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:-
True is it, my incorporate friends," quoth he,
"That I receive the general food at first,
Which you do live upon; and fit it is;
Because I am the storehouse and the shop

Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,

I send it through the rivers of your blood,

Even to the court, the heart,-to the seat o' the brain;
And, through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves, and small inferior veins,
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live: and though that all at once,

You, my good friends," this says the belly, mark me,— 1 Cit. Ay, Sir; well, well.

Men. "Though all at once cannot

See what I do deliver out to each,
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flour of all,

And leave me but the bran." What say you to 't?
1 Cit. It was an answer: how apply you this?
Men. The senators of Rome are this good belly,
And you the mutinous members: for, examine
Their cousels and their cares; digest things rightly
Touching the weal o' the common; you shall find,
No public benefit which you receive,
But it proceeds or comes from them to you,
And no way from yourselves.--What do you think?
You, the great toe of this assembly?

1 Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe?
Men. For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest,

Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremnost: Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, Lead'st first to win some vantage.

Bat make you ready your stiff bats and clubs;
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
The one side must have bale.-Hail, noble Marcius!
Enter CAIUS MARCIUS.

Mar. Thanks.-What's the matter, you dissentious That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, [rogues, Make yourselves scabs?

1 Cit. We have ever your good word. Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter Beneath abhorring.-What would you have, you curs, That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, The other makes you proud. He that trusts you, Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,

To make him worthy whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness,
Deserves your hate: and your affections are

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,"

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?
With every minute you do change a mind;

And call him noble that was now your hate,

Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, That in these several places of the city

You cry against the noble senate, who,

Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else

Would feed on one another?-What's their seeking? Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, The city is well stored.

Mar. Hang 'em! they say?

They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know
What's done i' the Capitol: who's like to rise,

Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,

And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry
With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
As I could pick my lance.

Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
For though abundantly they lack discretion,
Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
What says the other troop?

Mar. They are dissolved: hang 'em!

They said they were a-hungry: sigh'd forth proverbs,
That hunger broke stone walls; that dogs must eat;
That meat was made for mouths; that the gods sent not
Corn for the rich men only with these shreds
They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,
And a petition granted them, a strange one,
(To break the heart of generosity

And make bold power look pale,) they threw their caps
As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,
Shouting their emulation.

Men. What is granted them?

Mar. Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus, Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath! The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes For insurrection's arguing.

Men. This is strange.

Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments!

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Where's Caius Marcius?
Mar. Here: what's the matter?

Mess. The news is, Sir, the Volsces are in arms.
Mar. I am glad on't: then we shall have means to
Our musty superfluity:-See, our best elders. [vent

Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS.

1 Sen. Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us— The Volsces are in arms.

Mar. They have a leader,

Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't

I sin in envying his nobility:
And were I anything but what I am,

I would wish me only he.

Com. You have fought together.