Mar. Sir, it is;

And I am conftant: Titus Lartius, thou
Shalt fee me once more ftrike at Tullius's Face.
What, art thou ftiff? Stand'ft out?

Tit. No, Caius Martius,

I'll lean upon one Crutch, and fight with t'other;
Ere stay behind this Business.

Men. Oh true bred.

1 Sen. Your Company to th' Capitol; where I know Our greatest Friends attend us.

Tit. Lead you on; follow Cominius, we must follow you, right worthy your Priority.

Com. Noble Martius.

1 Sen. Hence to your Homes--be gone. [To the Citizens.
Mar. Let them follow,

The Volfcies have much Corn: take these Rats thither
To gnaw their Garners. Worfhipful Mutineers,
Your Valour puts well forth; pray follow. [Exeunt.
[Citizens fteal away. Manent Sicinius and Brutus.
Sic. Was ever Man so proud as is this Martius?
Bru. He has no equal.

Sic. When we were chofen Tribunes for the People-----
Bru. Mark'd you his Lip and Eyes?

Sic. Nay, but his Taunts.

Bru. Being mov'd, he will not fpare to gird the Gods. Sic. Be-mock the modeft Moon.

Bru. The prefent Wars devour him, he is grown Too proud to be fo valiant.

Sic. Such a Nature, tickled with good Success, difdains the Shadow which he treads on at Noon; but I do wonder, his Infolence can brook to be commanded under Cominius!

Bru. Fame, at the which he aims,

In whom already he is well grac'd, cannot
Better he held, nor more attain'd than by
A place below the firft; for what miscarries
Shall be the General's fault, tho' he perform
To the utmost of a Man; and giddy cenfure
Will then cry out of Martius: Oh, if he
Had born the Bufinefs-

Sic. Befides, if things go well, Opinion, that fo fticks on Martius, fhall

Of his demerits rob Cominius.

Bru. Come; half all Cominius's Honours are to Martius, Though Martius earn'd them not; and all his Faults To Martius fhall be Honours, though indeed

In ought he merit not.

Sic. Let's hence, and hear

How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
More than his fingularity, he goes

Upon this prefent Action.

Bru. Let's along.

SCENE I. Coriolus.

[Exeunt.

Enter Tullus Aufidius with Senators of Coriolus.
1 Sen So, your Opinion is, Aufidius,

That they of Rome are entred in our Counsels,
And know how we proceed.

Auf. Is it not yours?

What ever hath been thought on in this State
That could be brought to bodily act, ere Rome
Had Circumvention? 'tis not four Days gone
Since I heard thence---these are the Words---I think
I have the Letter here, yes-
here it is;

They have preft a Power, but it is not known
Whether for Eaft or Weft; the Dearth is great,
The People Mutinous; and it is rumour'd
Cominius, Martius your old Enemy,

(Who is of Rome worse hated than of you)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
Thefe three lead on this Preparation
Whither 'tis bent----most likely, 'tis for you:
Confider of it.

I Sen. Our Army's in the Field:

We never yet made doubt, but Rome was ready
To answer us.

Auf. Nor did you think it folly

To keep your great pretences veil'd, 'till when

They needs mult fhew themfelves, which in the hatching

It

It seem'd appear'd to Rome. By the discovery,
We shall be shortned in our Aim, which was
To take in many Towns, ere (almost) Rome
Should know we were a-foot.

2 Sen. Noble Aufidius,

Take

your Commiffion, hie you to your Bands, Let us alone to guard Coriolus,

If they fet down before's: for the remove
Bring up your Army: But, I think, you'll find:
They've not prepar'd for us.

Auf. O, doubt not that,

I fpeak from Certainties. Nay more,
Some parcels of their Power are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your Honours.
If we and Caius Martius chance to meet,
'Tis fworn between us, we fhall ever strike,
'Till one can do no more,

All. The Gods affift you.

Auf. And keep your Honours fafe.

1 Sen. Farewel.

2 Sen. Farewel.

All. Farewel.

SCENE III. Rome.

[Exeunt

Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, They fit down on two low Stools, and Som.

Vol. I pray you, Daughter, Sing, or express your felf in a more comfortable fort: If my Son were my Huf band, I would freelier rejoice in that abfence wherein he won Honour, than in the Embracements of his Bed, where he fhould fhew moft Love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only Son of my Womb; when Youth with Comlinefs plucked all gaze his way; when for a Day of Kings Entreaties, a Mother thould not fell him an Hour from her beholding, I, confidering how Honour would become fuch a Perfon, that it was no better than Picture-like to hang by th' Wall, if Renown made it not ftir, was pleas'd to let him feek Danger where he was like to find Fame: To a cruel War I fent him, from whence

he

he return'd, his Brows bound with Oak. I tell thee, Daughter, I fprang no more in Joy at first hearing he was a Man child, than now in firft feeing he had proved himself a Man.

Vir. But had he died in the Bufinefs, Madam, how then?

Vol. Then his good Report fhould have been my Son; I therein would have found Iffue. Hear me profefs fincerely: had I a dozen Sons each in my love alike, and none lefs dear than thine and my good Martius, I hadrather eleven dye nobly for their Country, than one voluptuously furfeit out of Action.

Enter a Gentlewoman.

Gent. Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to vifit you.
Vir. Befeech you, give me leave to retire my felf.
Vol. Indeed thou shalt not:

Methinks I hear hither your Husband's Drum:
I fee him pluck Aufidius down by th' Hair:
(As Children from a Bear) the Volfcies fhunning him:
Methinks I fee him ftamp thus-

and call thus

Come on, ye Cowards, ye were got in fear
Though you were born in Rome; his bloody Brow,
With his mail'd Hand, then wiping, forth he goes
Like to a Harveft-Man, that's task'd to mow,
Or all, or lofe his hire.

Vir. His bloody Brow! Oh Jupiter, no Blood.
Vol. Away, you Fool; it more becomes a Man
Than gilt his Trophy. The Breast of Hecuba,
When he did fuckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's Forehead, when it fpit forth Blood
At Grecian Swords contending; tell Valeria
We are fit to bid her Welcome.

[Exit Gent.
Vir. Heav'ns bless my Lord from fell Aufidius.
Vol. He'll beat Aufidius's Head below his Knee,
And tread upon his Neck.

Enter Valeria with an Usher, and a Gentlewoman. Val. My Ladies both, good Day to you.

Vol. Sweet Madam

Vir. I am glad to fee your Ladyfhip---

Val:

Val. How do you both? You are manifeft House-keepers. What are you fowing here? A fine fpot in good faith. How does your little Son?

Vir. I thank your Ladyfhip: Well, good Madam:

Vol. He had rather fee the Swords, and hear a Drum, than look upon his School-mafter.

Val. A my word, the Father's Son: I'll fwear 'tis, a very pretty Boy. A my troth I look'd on him o'Wednefday half an hour together--b'as fuch a confirm'd Countenance. I faw him run after a gilded Butterfly, and when he caught it, he let it go again, and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again, and caught it again; or whether his fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did fo fet his Teeth and did tear it, Oh, I warrant_howhe mammockt it!

Vol. One o's Father's Moods.

Val. Indeed la, 'tis a Noble Child.

Vir. A Crack, Madam.

Val. Come, lay afide your Stitchery, I must have you play the idle Hufwife with me this Afternoon.

Vir. No, good Madam;

I will not out of Doors.
Val. Not out of Doors?

Vol. She fhall, fhe fhall.

Vir. Indeed no, by your Patience; I'll not over the Threshold, 'till my Lord return from the Wars. Val. Fie, you confine your felf unreasonably: Come, you must go vifit the good Lady that lyes in. Vir. I will with her fpeedy Strength, and vifit her with my Prayers, but I cannot go thither.

Vol. Why, I pray you?

Vir. 'Tis not to fave Labour, nor that I want Love. Val. You would be another Penelope; yet they fay, all the Yarn fhe fpun in Ulyffes's abfence, did but fill Ithaca full of Moths. Come, I would your Cambrick were fenfible as your Finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Čome, you fhall go with us.

Vir. No, good Madam, pardon me, indeed I will not forth.