Ed. I have; 'tis ready, here.

Sic. Have you collected them by tribes?
Ed. I have.

Sic. Affemble presently the people hither,
And, when they hear me fay, It shall be so,

I' th' right and strength o' th' commons; (be it either For death, for fine, or banishment,) then let them, If I fay fine, cry fine; if death, cry death; Infifting on the old prerogative

And power i' th' truth o' th' caufe.

Ed. I will inform them.

Bru. And when fuch time they have begun to cry, Let them not cafe, but with a din confused Inforce the prefent execution

Of what we chance to fentence.

Æd. Very well.

Sic. Make them be ftrong, and ready for this hint, When we fhall hap to give't them.

Bru. Go about it.

[Exit Edile. Put him to choler ftreight; he hath been used Ever to conquer, and to have his word

Of contradiction. Being once chaft, he cannot Be reined again to temperance; then he speaks What's in his heart; and that is there, which looks With us to break his neck.

Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with others.

Sic. Well, here he comes.

Men. Calmly, I do beseech you.

Cor. Ay, as an holtler, that for the poorest piece Will bear the knave by th' volume:-The honoured gods

Keep Rome in fafety, and the chairs of justice Supply with worthy men, (30) plant love amongst

(30)

you,

-plant love among you

Throng our large temples with the fhews of peace, And not our ftreets with war!

1 Sen. Amen, amen. Men. A noble with.

Enter the Edile with the Plebeians.

Sic. Draw near, ye people.

Ed. Lift to your tribunes: audience; Peace, I fay.

Cor. Firit, hear me speak.

Both Tri. Well, fay: peace, ho.

Cor. Shall I be charged no farther than this prefent? Muft all determine here?

Sic. I do demand,

If you fubmit you to the people's voices,
Allow their officers, and are content

To fuffer lawful cenfure for fuch faults
As fhall be proved upon you?

Cor. I am content.

Men. Lo, citizens, he fays he is content: The warlike fervice he has done, confider;

Think on the wounds his body bears, which fhew Like graves i' th' holy church-yard.

Cor. Scratches with briars, fcars to move laughter only.

Men. Confider further,

That when he speaks not like a citizen,
You find him like a foldier; (31) do not take

Through our large temples with the fhews of peace,

And not our freets with war.] Though this be the reading of all the copies, it is flat nonfenfe. There is no verb either expreffed, or understood, that can govern the latter part of the fentence. I have no doubt of my emendation reftoring the text rightly, because Mr Warburton started the fame conjecture, unknowing that I had meddled with the pallage.

(31)

-donot take

His rougher actions for malicious founds :] I have no man

His rougher accents for malicious founds:
But, as I fay, fuch as become a foldier.

Rather than envy you→→

Com. Well, well, no more.

Cor. What is the matter,

That being paft for conful with full voice,
I'm fo difhonoured, that the very hour
You take it off again?

Sic. Anfwer to us.

Cor. Say then; 'tis true, I ought so.

Sic. We charge you, that you have contrived to take From Rome all seasoned office, and to wind Yourself unto a power tyrannical;

For which you are a traitor to the people.
Cor. How? traitor?

Men. Nay, temperately: your promise.

Cor. The fires i' th' lowest hell fold in the people! Call me their traitor! thou injurious tribune! Within thine eyes fat twenty thoufand deaths, In thy hands clutched as many millions, in Thy lying tongue both numbers; I would fay, Thou lieft, unto thee, with a voice as free, As I do pray the gods.

Sic. Mark you this, people?

All To the rock with him.
Sic. Peace:

We need not put new matter to his charge:
What you have feen him do, and heard him speak,

ner of apprehenfion how a man's actions can be mistaken for words. It would be very abfurd, as well as extraordinary, were to do a faucy thing in company, for the perfon of fended to tell me, Sir, you give me very impudent language. This would be certainly taking actions for funts:We may remember a roughnefs of accent was one of Coriolanus's dif tinguishing characteristics I corrected this paffage in the appendix to my Shakespeare Reftored, and Mr Pope has cobraced it in his laft edition.

VOL. XI.

Beating your officers, curfing yourselves, Oppofing laws with strokes, and here defying Those whofe great power must try him, even this So criminal, and in fuch capital kind,

Deferves th' extremest death.

Bru. But fince he hath
Served well for Rome-

Cor. What do you prate of service?
Bru. I talk of that, that know it.

Cor. You?

Men. Is this the promise that you made your mother?

Com. Know, I pray you

Cor. I'll know no farther:

Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, fleaing, pent to linger
But with a grain a-day, I would not buy
Their mercy at the price of one fair word;
Nor check my courage for what they can give,
To have't with faying, good-morrow.

Sic. For that he has

(As much as in him lyes) from time to time
Envied against the people; feeking means
To pluck away their power; as now at last
Given hoftile strokes, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded juftice, but on the ministers

That do diftribute it; in the name o' th' people,
And in the power of us the tribunes, we
(Even from this inftant) banish him our city;
In peril of precipitation

From off the rock Tarpeian, never more

To enter our Rome's gates. I' th' people's name, I fay, it fhall be fo.

All. It fhall be fo, it fhall be fo; let him away: He's banished, and it fhall be fo.

Com. Hear me, my masters, and my common friends

Sic. He's fentenced: no more hearing.
Cem. Let me fpeak:

(32) I have been conful, and can shew for Rome Her enemies marks upon me. I do love

My country's good, with a refpect more tender,
More holy, and profound, than mine own life,
My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase,
And treasure of my loins: then if I would
Speak that---

Sie. We know your drift. Speak what?

Bru. There's no more to be faid, but he is banished, As enemy to the people and his country.

It fhall be fo.

All. It fhall be fo, it fhall be fo.

Cor. You common cry of curs, whofe breath I
hate,

As reek o' th' rotten fens; whofe loves I prize,
As the dead carcaffes of unburied men,
That do corrupt my air: I banish-you.
And here remain with your uncertainty ;
Let every feeble rumour fhake your hearts;
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into defpair: have the
To banish your defenders, till at length
Your ignorance (which finds not till it feels,
Making but refervation of yourfelves

Still your own enemies) deliver

power

you,

ftill

(32) I have been conful, and can few from Rome

Her enemies marks upon me?] How, from Rome? did he receive hoftile marks from his own country? no fuch thing; he received them in the fervice of Rome. So, twice in the beginning of next act, it is faid of Coriolanus;

Hadft thou foxflip

To banith him, that ftruck more blows for Rome,
Than thou haft spoken words?

And again;

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