As moft abated captives, to fome nation
That won you without blows. Defpifing then
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere------

[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others. [The People fhout, and throw up their caps. Ed. The people's enemy is gone, is gone! All. Our enemy is banished; he is gone! hoo! hoo!

Sic. Go fee him out at gates, and follow him As he hath followed you; with all defpight Give him deferved vexation. Let a guard Attend us through the city.

All. Come, come; let's fee him out at the gates;

come.

The gods preferve our noble tribunes!

-come.

[Exeunt.

ACT

IV.

SCENE, before the Gates of Rome..

Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome.

CORIOLANU S.

COME, leave your tears: a brief farewel: the

beat

With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage? you were used
To fay, extremity was the trier of fpirits;
That common chances common men could bear;
That, when the fea was calm, all boats alike
Shewed mafterfhip in floating. Fortune's blows,

When most truck home, being gently warded, craves
A noble cunning. You were used to load me
With precepts, that would make invincible
The heart that conned them.

Vir. Oh heavens! Oh heavens !

Cor. Nay, pr'ythee, woman

Vol. Now the red peftilence ftrike all trades in And occupations perish.

Cor. What! what! what!

[Rome,

I fhall be loved when I am lacked. Nay, mother,
Refume that fpirit, when you were wont to say,
If you had been the wife of Hercules

Six of his labours you'd have done, and faved
Your husband fo much sweat. Cominius,

Droop not; adieu: farewel, my wife! my mother!
I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,
Thy tears are falter than a younger man's,
And venomous to thine eyes. My fometime general,
I've feen thee ftern, and thou haft oft beheld
Heart-hardning fpectacles. Tell these fad women,
'Tis fond to wail inevitable ftrokes,

As 'tis to laugh at 'em. Mother you wot,
My hazards itill have been your folace; and
Believe't not lightly, (tho' I go alone,

Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen

Makes feared, talked of more than feen :) your fon

Will or exceed the common, or be caught

With cautelous baits and practice.

Vol. My first fon,

Where will you go? take good Cominius

With thee a while; determine on fome course,

More than a wild exposure to each chance

That starts i' th' way before the.

Cor. O the gods!

Com. I'll follow thee a month, devife with thee Where thou shalt reft, that thou mayest hear of us,

And we of thee. So, if the time thruft forth
A caufe for thy repeal, we fhall not fend
O'er the vast world, to feek a fingle man;
And lofe advantage, which doth ever cool
I' th' abfence of the needer.

Cor. Fare ye well:

Thou'ft years upon thee, and thou art too fulf
Of the war's furfeits, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruifed; bring me but out at gate.
Come, my fweet wife, my dearest mother, and
My friends of noble touch: when I am forth,
Bid me farewel, and finile. I pray you, come.
While I remain above the ground, you shall
Hear from me ftill, and never of me ought
But what is like me formerly.

Men. That's worthily

As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
If I could fhake off but one seven years

From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
I'd with thee every foot.

Cor. Give me thy hand.

[Exeunt.

Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUs, with the Edile.

Sic. Bid them all home, he's gone; and we'll no
further.

Vexed are the nobles, who, we fee, have fided
In his behalf.

Bru. Now we have fhewn our power,

Let us feem humbler after it is done,
Than when it was a-doing.

Sic. Bid them home;

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

Bru. Difmifs them home.

Here comes his mother.

Enter VOLUMNJA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS.

Sic. Let's not meet her.

Bru. Why?

Sic. They fay fhe's mad.

Bru. They have ta'en note of us: keep on your

way.

Vol. Oh, y'are well met:

The hoarded plague o' th' gods requite your love! Men. Peace, peace; be not fo loud.

Vol. If that I could for weeping, you should hear-Nay, and you fhall hear fome-Will you be gone? Vir. You fhall ftay too:--I would I had the powerf To fay fo to my husband.

Sic. Are you man-kind?

Vol. Ay, fool: is that a shame? note but this fool. Was not a man my father? hadft thou foxship To banish him that ftruck more blows for Rome, Than thou haft spoken words

Sic. Oh bleffed heavens!

Vol. More noble blows than ever thou wise words, And for Rome's good--I'll tell thee what--yet go... Nay, but thou fhalt stay too---I would, my fon Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, His good fword in his hand.

Sic. What then?

Vir. What then? he'd make an end of thy po fterity.

Vol. Baftards, 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.

Bru. I would he had.

Vol. I would he had!'twas you incenfed

the rabble:

Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth,
As I can of thole myfteries which Heaven
Will not have earth to know.

Bru. Fray let us go.

Vol. Now, pray, Sir, get you gone.
You've done a brave deed. Ere you go hear this
As far as doth the capitol exceed

The meaneft houfe in Rome; fo far my fon,
This Lady's husband here, this, (do you see)
Whom you have banished, does exceed you all.
Bru. Well, well, we'll leave you.

Sic. Why ftay you to be baited
With one that wants her wits?
Vol. Take my prayers with you.

[Exc. Tribunes.

I wish the gods had nothing elfe to do,
But to confirm my curfes! could I meet 'em
But once a-day, it would unclog my heart
Of what lyes heavy to't.

Men. You've told them home,

?

And, by my troth, have caufe: you'll fup with me
Vol. Anger's my meat, I fup upon myself,
And fo fhall starve with feeding: come, let's go,
Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do,
In anger, Juno-like: come, come, fy, fy ! [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Antium.

Enter a Roman and a Volfcran.

Rom. I know you well, Sir, and you know me: your name, I think, is Adrian.

Vol. It is fo, Sir: truly I have forgot you.

Rom. I am a Roman, but my fervices are as you are, against 'em. Know you me yet?

Vol. Nicanor? no.

Rom. The fame, Sir.

Vol. You had more beard when I last faw you,