thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to thee: but being assured, none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out of your gates with sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.

Cor. Away!

Men. How! away?

Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs

Are servanted to others: Though I owe

My revenge properly, my remission lies

In Volcian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
Than pity note how much.-Therefore, be gone.
Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than
Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,
Take this along; I writ it for thy sake,

[Gives a letter. And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak.-This man, Aufidius, Was my belov'd in Rome: yet thou behold'stAuf. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius.

1 G. Now, sir, is your name Menenius.

2 G. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: You know the way home again.

1 G. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

2 G. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?

Men. I neither care for the world, nor your general: for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, you are so slight. He that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another. Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was said to, Away! [Exit.

1 G. A noble fellow, I warrant him.

2 G. The worthy fellow is our general: He is the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

THE TENT OF CORIOLANUS.

Enter Coriolanus, Aufidius, and Others.

Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to-mor

row

Set down our host.-My partner in this action, You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly I have borne this business.

Only their ends

Auf.
You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
The general suit of Rome; never admitted
A private whisper, no, not with such friends
That thought them sure of you.

This last old man,

Cor.
Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
Lov'd me above the measure of a father;

Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
Was to send him: for whose old love, I have

(Though I show'd sourly to him,) once more offer'd
The first conditions, which they did refuse,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more; a very little
I have yielded too: Fresh embassies, and suits,
Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.-Ha! what shout is this?

[Shout within. Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow In the same time 'tis made? I will not.

Enter in mourning habits, Virgilia, Volumnia, leading young Marcius, Valeria, and Attendants.

My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! All bond and privilege of nature, break!

Let it be virtuous, to be obstinate.

What is that court'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, Which can make gods forsworn?—I melt, and am

not

Of stronger earth than others.-My mother bows;
As if Olympus to a molehill should

In supplication "nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which

Great nature cries, Deny not.-Let the Volces
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never

Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand,
As if a man were author of himself,

And knew no other kin.

Vir.

My lord and husband!

Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in

Rome.

Vir. The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think so.

Cor.

Like a dull actor now,

I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive any tyranny; but do not say,
For that, Forgive our Romans.-O, a kiss.
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted: Sink, my knee, i' the earth;

Of thy deep duty more impression show
Than that of common sons.

Vol.

[kneels.

O, stand up bless'd! Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,

I kneel before thee; and unproperly

Show duty, as mistaken all this while
Between the child and parent.

Cor.

[kneels.

What is this?

Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds.
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make

What cannot be, slight work.

Vol.

Thou art my warrior;

I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?

Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,

The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria!
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

Cor.

The god of soldiers,

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st

prove

To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,

And saving those that eye thee!

Vol.

Cor. That's my brave boy.

Your knee, sirrah.

Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you.

Cor.

I beseech you, peace:

Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;

The things, I have forsworn to grant, may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanicks:-Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not

To allay my rages and revenges, with

Your colder reasons.

Vol.

O, no more, no more!

You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: Yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame

K