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The people are the city.

Bru. By the consent of all, we were establish'd
The people's magistrates.

All. You so remain.
Men. And so are like to do.

Cor. That is the way to lay the city flat;
To bring the roof to the foundation ;
And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of ruin.

259 Sic. This deserves death.

Bru. Or let us stand to our authority,
Or let us lose it :--We do here pronounce,
Upon the part o'the people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
Of present death.

Sic. Therefore, lay hold of him ;
Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.
Bru. Ædiles, seize him.

260 All. Yield, Marcius, yield.

Men. Hear me one word.
Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

Ædiles. Peace, peace !

Men. Be that you seem, truly your country's friend, And temperately proceed to what you would Thus violently redress.

Bru. Sir, those cold ways, That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous Where the disease is violent :--Lay hands upon him, And bear him to the rock.

271 [CORIOLANUS draws his Sword.


Cor. No; I'll die here. There's some among you have beheld me fighting ; Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. Men. Down with that sword – Tribunes, withdraw

a while. Bru. Lay hands upon him.

Men. Help, Marcius! help, You that be noble; help him, young and old I All. Down with him, down with him! [Exeunt, [In this Mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ædiles, and the

People are beat in. Men. Go, get you to your house; be gone, away, All will be naught else.

281 2 Sen. Get you gone.

Cor. Stand fast;
We have as many friends as enemies.

Men. Shall it be put to that?

i Sen. The gods forbid !
I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house ;
Leave us to cure this cause.

Men. For 'tis a sore upon us,
You cannot tent yourself: Be gone, 'beseech you.
Com. Come, sir, along with us.

291 Cor. I would they were barbarians (as they are, Though in Rome litter'd); not Romans (as they are

not, Though calv'd i'the porch o' the Capitol).--Be gone.

Men. Put not your worthy rage into your tongué ; One time will owe another.


Cor. On fair ground,
I could beat forty of them.

Men. I could myself Take up a brace of the best of them ; yea, the two tribunes.

300 Com. But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetick; And manhood is callid foolery, when it stands Against a falling fabrick. --Will you hence, Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear What they are us'd to bear.

Men. Pray you, be gone : I'll try whether my old wit be in request With those that have but little; this must be patch'd With cloth of any colour,

310 Com. Nay, come away,

[Exeunt CORIOL A NUS, and COMINIUS. i Sen. This man has marr'd his fortune.

Men. His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his

mouth : What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; And, being angry, doth forget that ever He heard the name of death. [ A Noise within. Here's goodly work ! 2 Sen. I would they were a-bed.

320 Men. I would they were in Tiber! What, the

vengeance, Could he not speak 'em fair?


Enter BRUTUS, and SICINIUS, with the Rabble

Sic. Where is this viper,
That will depopulate the city, and
Be every man himself ?

Men. You worthy tribunes

Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands; he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
Than the severity of publick power,

330 Which he so sets at nought.

i Cit. He shall well know,
The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
And we their hands.

All. He shall sure out.
Men. Sir, sir-
Sic. Peace,
Men. Do not cry, havock, where you should but

With modest warrant.
Sic. Sir, how comes it, that you

340 Have holp to make this rescue?

Men. Hear me speak :-
As I do know the consul's worthiness,
So can I name his faults :-

Sic. Consul!_what consul?
Men. The consul Coriolanus,
Bru. He consul !
All. No, no, no, no, no,


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Men. If, by the tribunes' leave, and your's, good

I may be heard, I'd crave a word or two; 350
The which shall turn you to no further harm,
Than so much loss of time.

Sic. Speak briefly then ;
For we are peremptory, to dispatch
This viperous traitor : to eject him hence,
Were but one danger; and, to keep him here,
Our certain death; therefore, it is decreed,
He dies to-night.

Men. Now the good gods forbid,
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enrollid
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic. He's a disease, that must be cut away.

Men. O, he's a limb, that has but a disease ; Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. What has hę done to Rome, that's worthy death? Killing our enemies ? The blood he hath lost (Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, By many an ounce), he dropp'd it for his country : And, what is left, to lose it by his country, Were to us all, that do't, and suffer it, A brand to the end o' the world.

Sic. This is clean kam.

Bru. Merely awry: When he did love his country, It honour'd him. Men. The service of the foot


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