Breaking his oath and refolution, like
A twist of rotten filk, never admitting
Counsel o' th' war; but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roared away your victory,
That pages blushed at him; and men of heart
Looked wond'ring each at other.

Cor. Hear'ft thou, Mars !-----

Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears!-----
Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more.

Cor. Meafureless liar, thou haft made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy? O flave!----
Pardon me, Lords, 'tis the first time that ever
I'm forced to fcold. Your judgments, my grave
Lords,

Muft give this cur the lie; and his own notion,
(Who wears my stripes impreffed upon him, that
Muft bear my beating to his grave) fhall join
To thruft the lie unto him.

I Lord. Peace both, and hear me speak.

Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volfcians, men and lads,
Stain all your edges in me. Boy! falfe hound!
If
you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dove-coat, I

Fluttered your Volfcians in Corioli.
Alone I did it. Boy!

Auf. Why, noble Lords,

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your fhame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?

All Con. Let him die for't.

All People. Tear him to pieces, do it prefently: He killed my fon,----my daughter, -killed my coufin,--

He killed my father.---

VOL. XI.

[The Groud fpeak promiscuously,

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2 Lord. Peace,---no outrage---peace--The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' th' earth; his laft offences to us Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.

Cor. O that I had him,

With fix Aufidius's, or more, his tribe,
To ufe my lawful fword---

Auf. Infolent villain!

All Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. [The Confpirators all draw, and kit Marcius, who falls, and Aufidius ftands on him. Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold.

Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak. 1 Lord. O Tullus---

2 Lord. Thou haft done a deed, whereat Valour will weep.

3 Lord. Tread not upon him---mafters all, be quiet; Put up your fwords.

Auf. My Lords, when you fhall know (as in this rage

Provoked 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 fenate, I'll deliver
Myfelf your loyal fervant, or endure
Your heaviest cenfure.

1 Lord. Bear from hence his body,

And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most noble corfe that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.

2 Lord. His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame :
Let's make the best of it.

Auf My rage is gone,

And I am ftruck with forrow. Take him up:

Help, three o' th' chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one. (42)
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your fteel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.

[Exeunt, bearing the body of Marcius.
A dead march founded.

(42) Help, three o' th' chiefeft foldiers; I'll be one.] Not one of the three, but one to aflift them; he would make So, in the conclufion of Hamlet; -Let four captains

the fourth man.

Bear Hamlet like a foldier to the stage.

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TROIL US

AND

CRESSIDA.

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