Part 26

Sicin. For that he ha's (As much as in him lies) from time to time Enui'd against the people; seeking meanes To plucke away their power: as now at last, Giuen Hostile strokes, and that not in the presence Of dreaded Iustice, but on the Ministers That doth distribute it. In the name a'th' people, And in the power of vs the Tribunes, wee (Eu'n from this instant) banish him our Citie In perill of precipitation From off the Rocke Tarpeian, neuer more To enter our Rome gates. I'th' Peoples name, I say it shall bee so

All. It shall be so, it shall be so: let him away: Hee's banish'd, and it shall be so

Com. Heare me my Masters, and my common friends

Sicin. He's sentenc'd: No more hearing

Com. Let me speake: I haue bene Consull, and can shew from Rome Her Enemies markes vpon me. I do loue My Countries good, with a respect more tender, More holy, and profound, then mine owne life, My deere Wiues estimate, her wombes encrease, And treasure of my Loynes: then if I would Speake that

Sicin. We know your drift. Speake what? Bru. There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd As Enemy to the people, and his Countrey. It shall bee so

All. It shall be so, it shall be so

Corio. You common cry of Curs, whose breath I hate, As reeke a'th' rotten Fennes: whose Loues I prize, As the dead Carkasses of vnburied men, That do corrupt my Ayre: I banish you, And heere remaine with your vncertaintie. Let euery feeble Rumor shake your hearts: Your Enemies, with nodding of their Plumes Fan you into dispaire: Haue the power still To banish your Defenders, till at length Your ignorance (which findes not till it feeles, Making but reseruation of your selues, Still your owne Foes) deliuer you As most abated Captiues, to some Nation That wonne you without blowes, despising For you the City. Thus I turne my backe; There is a world elsewhere.

Exeunt. Coriolanus, Cominius, with Cumalijs. They all shout, and throw vp their Caps.

Edile. The peoples Enemy is gone, is gone

All. Our enemy is banish'd, he is gone: Hoo, oo

Sicin. Go see him out at Gates, and follow him As he hath follow'd you, with all despight Giue him deseru'd vexation. Let a guard Attend vs through the City

All. Come, come, lets see him out at gates, come: The Gods preserue our Noble Tribunes, come.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, with the yong Nobility of Rome.

Corio. Come leaue your teares: a brief farwel: the beast With many heads butts me away. Nay Mother, Where is your ancient Courage? You were vs'd To say, Extreamities was the trier of spirits, That common chances. Common men could beare, That when the Sea was calme, all Boats alike Shew'd Mastership in floating. Fortunes blowes, When most strooke home, being gentle wounded, craues A Noble cunning. You were vs'd to load me With Precepts that would make inuincible The heart that conn'd them

Virg. Oh heauens! O heauens! Corio. Nay, I prythee woman

Vol. Now the Red Pestilence strike al Trades in Rome, And Occupations perish

Corio. What, what, what: I shall be lou'd when I am lack'd. Nay Mother, Resume that Spirit, when you were wont to say, If you had beene the Wife of Hercules, Six of his Labours youl'd haue done, and sau'd Your Husband so much swet. Cominius, Droope not, Adieu: Farewell my Wife, my Mother, Ile do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, Thy teares are salter then a yonger mans, And venomous to thine eyes. My (sometime) Generall, I haue seene the Sterne, and thou hast oft beheld Heart-hardning spectacles. Tell these sad women, Tis fond to waile ineuitable strokes, As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My Mother, you wot well My hazards still haue beene your solace, and Beleeu't not lightly, though I go alone Like to a lonely Dragon, that his Fenne Makes fear'd, and talk'd of more then seene: your Sonne Will or exceed the Common, or be caught With cautelous baits and practice

Volum. My first sonne, Whether will thou go? Take good Cominius With thee awhile: Determine on some course More then a wilde exposture, to each chance That starts i'th' way before thee

Corio. O the Gods! Com. Ile follow thee a Moneth, deuise with thee Where thou shalt rest, that thou may'st heare of vs, And we of thee. So if the time thrust forth A cause for thy Repeale, we shall not send O're the vast world, to seeke a single man, And loose aduantage, which doth euer coole Ith' absence of the needer

Corio. Fare ye well: Thou hast yeares vpon thee, and thou art too full Of the warres surfets, to go roue with one That's yet vnbruis'd: bring me but out at gate. Come my sweet wife, my deerest Mother, and My Friends of Noble touch: when I am forth, Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you come: While I remaine aboue the ground, you shall Heare from me still, and neuer of me ought But what is like me formerly

Menen. That's worthily As any eare can heare. Come, let's not weepe, If I could shake off but one seuen yeeres From these old armes and legges, by the good Gods I'ld with thee, euery foot

Corio. Giue me thy hand, come.

Exeunt.

Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus, with the Edile.

Sicin. Bid them all home, he's gone: & wee'l no further, The Nobility are vexed, whom we see haue sided In his behalfe