Sic. Friend,

Art certain, this is true? is it moft certain ?

Mef. As certain, as I know the fun is fire: Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? Ne'er through an arch fo hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through th' gates. Why, hark you! [Trumpets, Hautboys, Drums beat, all together. The trumpets, fackbuts, pfalteries and fifes, Tabors and cymbals, and the fhouting Romans Make the fun dance. Hark you!

[A fhout within.

Men. This is good news:

I will go meet the Ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of Confuls, Senators, Patricians,
A city full; of Tribunes, fuch as you,
A fea and land full. You've pray'd well to-day:
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Sound fill, with the fhouts.
Sic. First, the Gods blefs you for your tidings: next,
Accept my thankfulness.

Mef. Sir, we have all great caufe to give great thanks.
Sic. They're near the city?

Me. Almoft at point to enter.

Sic. We'll meet them, and help the joy.

[Exeunt.

Enter two Senators, with Ladies, paffing over the ftage; with other Lords.

Sen. Behold our patronefs, the life of Rome: Call all your tribes together, praife the Gods, And make triumphant fires: ftrew flowers before them: Unfhout the noife, that banish'd Marcius; Repeal him with the welcome of his mother: Cry-welcome, Ladies, welcome!

[Exeunt.

[A flourish with drums and trumpets.

All. Welcome, Ladies, welcome!

SCENE

SCENE changes to a publick Place in Antium.

Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.

Auf Deliver them this paper: having read it,

tell the Lords o'th' city, I am here :

Bid them repair to th' market-place, where I,
Even in theirs and in the Commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. He, I accufe,
The city-ports by this hath enter'd; and
Intends t'appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words. Difpatch.-Moft welcome!

Enter three or four Confpirators of Aufidius's faction.

I Con. How is it with our General ?

Auf. Even fo,

As with a man by his own alms impoifon'd,
And with his charity flain.

2 Con. Moft noble Sir,

If you do hold the fame intent, wherein
You wish'd us parties; we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.

Auf. Sir, I cannot tell;

We must proceed, as we do find the people.

3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the furvivor heir of all.

Auf. I know it;

And my pretext to strike at him admits

A good conftruction. I raised him, and pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth; who being fo heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing fo my friends; and to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unfwayable, and free.,
3 Con. Sir, his ftoutnefs

When he did ftand for Conful, which he loft

By

By lack of ftooping.

Auf. That I would have fpoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth,
Prefented to my knife his throat; I took him,
Made him joint-fervant with me; gave him way
In all his own defires; nay, let him chufe
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My beft and fresheft men; ferv'd his defignments
In mine own perfon; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did make all his; and took fome pride
To do myself this wrong; 'till, at the last,
I feem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.

1 Con. So he did, my Lord:

The army marvell'd at it, and, at last,
When he had carried Rome, and that we looked
For no lefs fpoil, than glory-

Auf. There was it ;

(For which my finews fhall be ftretch'd upon him ;)
At a few drops of woman's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he fold the blood and labour
Of our great action; therefore fhall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and trumpets found, with great shouts of the people. i Con. Your native town you enter'd like a poft, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools,

Whofe children he hath flain, their base throats tear,
Giving him glory.

3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he exprefs himself, or move the people
With what he would fay, let him feel your fword,
Which we will fecond. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd fhall bury
His reafons with his body.

Auf. Say no more,

Here come the Lords.

Enter

Enter the Lords of the City.

All Lords. You're most welcome home,
Auf. I have not deserv'd it.

But, worthy Lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you?

All We have.

1 Lord. And grieve to hear it.

What faults he made before the laft, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin, and give away
The benefit of our levies, anfwering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding, this admits no excufe.
Auf. He approaches, you fhall hear him.

Enter Coriolanus, marching with drums and colours : the Commons being with him.

Cor. Hail, Lords; I am return'd, your foldier; No more infected with my country's love, Than when I parted hence, but still fubfifting, Under your great command. You are to know, That profperously I have attempted, and With bloody paffage led your wars, even to The gates of Rome: Our fpoils, we have brought home, Do more than counterpoife, a full third part, The charges of the action. We've made peace With no lefs honour to the Antiates,

Than fhame to th' Romans: and we here deliver,
Subfcribed by the Confuls and Patricians,
Together with the feal o'th' Senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble Lords,
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor !-how now!.

Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.

Cor. Marcius!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; doft thou think, I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy ftol'n name Coriolanus in Corioli ?

You Lords and heads o'th' State, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of falt, your city Rome;
I fay, your city, to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and refolution, like
A twift of rotten filk, never admitting
Counsel o'th' war; but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory,
That Pages blufh'd at him; and men of heart
Look'd wondring 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 forc'd to fcold. Your judgments, my grave Lords, Muft give this cur the lye; and his own notion, (Who wears my ftripes impreft upon him; that Muft bear my beating to his grave;) shall join To thrust the lye 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! you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,

If

That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I

Flutter'd 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 presently:

He