The value of her own: 'twere a concealment

Worfe than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to filence that,
Which, to the fpire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would feem but modeft: Therefore, I befeech you,
(In fign of what you are, not to reward

What you have done,) before our army hear me.
Mar. I have fome wounds upon me, and they fmart
To hear themselves remember'd.

Com.

Should they not,

Well might they fefter 'gainft ingratitude,

And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
(Whereof we have ta'en good, and good ftore,) of all
The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,
We render you the tenth; to be ta’en forth,
Before the common diftribution, at

Your only choice.

Mar.

I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe, to pay my fword: I do refuse it ;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[A long flourish. They all cry, Marcius! Marcius! caft up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS ftand bare.

Mar. May these fame inftruments, which you profane,
Never found more! When drums and trumpets shall
I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of falfe-fac'd foothing! When feel grows
Soft as the parafite's filk, let him be made

An overture for the wars! No more, I fay;
For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,
Or foil'd fome debile wretch,-which, without note,
Here's many elfe have done,-you shout me forth

In

In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I lov'd my little should be dieted
In praises fauc'd with lies.

Com.
Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report, than grateful
To us that give you truly: by your patience,
If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you
(Like one that means his proper harm,) in manacles,
Then reason fafely with you.-Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,

With all the applause and clamour of the host,
Caius Marcius Coriolanus.-Bear

The addition nobly ever!

All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !

[Flourish.

Trumpets sound, and drums.

And when my face is fair,

you shall perceive

Cor. I will go wash;

Whether I blush, or no: Howbeit, I thank you:-
I mean to ftride your steed; and, at all times,

To undercreft your good addition,

To the fairness of my power.

Com.

So, to our tent:

Where, ere we do repofe us, we will write

To Rome of our fuccefs.-You, Titus Lartius,
Muft to Corioli back: fend us to Rome

The best, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good, and ours.

Lart.

I shall, my lord.

I that now

Refus'd

Cor. The gods begin to mock me.

Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg
Of my lord general.

Com.

Take it 'tis yours.—What is't?

Cor. I fometime lay, here in Corioli,

At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly;
He cry'd to me; I faw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,

And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor hoft freedom.

Com.

O, well begg'd!
Were he the butcher of my fon, he should
Be free, as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Lart. Marcius, his name?

Cor.

By Jupiter, forgot :

I am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.

Have we no wine here?

Com.

Go we to our tent:

The blood upon your vifage dries: 'tis time
It should be look'd to: come.

[Exeunt.

SCENE X.

The Camp of the Volces.

A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS bloody, with two or three foldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. Auf. Condition ?—

I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot,

Being a Volce, be that I am.-Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find

I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,

I have fought with thee; fo often hast thou beat me;
And would't do so, I think, fhould we encounter
As often as we eat.-By the elements,

If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He is mine, or I am his: Mine emulation
Hath not that honour in't, it had; for where
I thought to crush him in an equal force,

(True fword to fword), I'll potch at him some way;
Or wrath, or craft, may get him.

I Sol.

He's the devil.

Auf. Bolder, though not fo fubtle: My valour's poi

fon'd,

With only suffering ftain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itfelf: nor fleep, nor fanctuary,
Being naked, fick; nor fane, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of facrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, fhall lift up
Their rotten privilege and cuftom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there
Against the hofpitable cannon, would I

Wash my
fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are, that must
Be hoftages for Rome.

I

I Sol.

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove:

pray you,

('Tis fouth the city mills,) bring me word thither

How the world goes; that to the pace of it

I may fpur on my journey.

I Sol.

I fhall, fir,

[Exeunt.

ACT

ACT II. SCENE I.

Rome. A public Place.

Enter MENENIUS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS.

Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news to-night. Bru. Good, or bad?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beafts to know their friends.

Men. Pray you, who does the wolf love?

Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.

Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall afk

Both Trib. Well, fir.

you.

Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you too

have not in abundance?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but flor'd with all.

Sic. Efpecially, in pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boasting.

Men. This is ftrange now: Do you two know how

you are cenfured here in the city, I mean of us o' the righthand file? Do you?

Both Trib. Why, how are we cenfured?

Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry?

well.

Both Trib. Well, well, fir, Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occafion will rob you of a great deal of patience: give

3

your