But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd What I have written to you?
We have. 1 Lord. And grieve to hear it. What faults he made before the last, I think, Might have found easy fines: but there to end, Where he was to begin: and give away The benefit of our levies, answering us With our own chargel; making a treaty, where There was a yielding; This admits no excuse. Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him. Enter Coriolanus, with Drums and Colours; a Crowd of Citizens with him.
Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier; No more infected with my country's love, Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting Under your great command. You are to know, That prosperously I have attempted, and With bloody passage, led your wars, even to The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home,
Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.
Read it not, noble lords;
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor. Traitor!-How now?
Auf.
Cor.
A. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus, in Corioli?-
You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
(I say, your city,) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o' the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.
Cor.
Hear'st thou, Mars?
Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,-
Cor.
Ha!
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1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli: Alone I did it. -Boy! Auf.
Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy brag gart,
'Fore your own eyes and ears?
Consp. [Several speak at once.] Let him die for't.
Cit. [Speaking promiscuously. ] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son;-my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcus;-He killed my father.
2 Lord. Peace, ho;-no outrage ;-peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth. His last offence to us Shall have judicious1 hearing.-Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.
Cor. O, that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, To use my lawful sword! Auf.
Insolent villain ! Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him. Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him.
Lords.
Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.
1 Lord.
O Tullus,-
2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters all, be quiet;
Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this
Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
1 Lord.
Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.
His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it. Auf. My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up: Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers: I'll be one.Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory.Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. A dead March sounded.
And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cæsar's
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch; [wing,
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [Exeunt.
SCENE IL-A PUBLIC PLACE.
Enter, in Procession, with Musick, Caesar;
Antony, for the Course; Culphurnia, Portia,
Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca;
a great Crowd following, among them a Sooth-
sayer.
Cas. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. [Musick ceases.
Cæs.
Calphurnia,-
Ces. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course, Antonius.
Cres. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say,
The barren, touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.
Ant.
I shall remember:
When Cæsar says, Do this, it is perform'd.
Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.
Sooth. Cæsar.
[Musick.
Casca. Bid every noise be still:-Peace yet again.
[Musick ceases.
Caes. Who is it in the press,2 that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the musick,
Cry, Cæsar: Speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March.
Cœs.
Bru. A soothsayer, bids you beware the ides
Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cæsar.
Caes. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again.
Sooth. Beware the ides of March,
Caes. He is a dreamer; let us leave him;-pass.
[Sennet. Exeunt all but Bru. and Cas.
Cas. Will you go see the order of the course?
Bru. Not I.
Cas. I pray you do.
Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires:
I'll leave you.
Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And show of love, as I was wont to have:
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with passions of some difference,5
Conceptions only proper to myself,
At the feast of Lupercalia.
Crowd.
2 Eight days in each month
in March from 15th to 23rd
Which gives some soil, perhaps, tomy behaviours:
But let not therefore my good friends be grieved;
(Among which number, Cassius, be you one ;)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.
Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook
your passion,
[buried
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.
Cas. "Tis just:
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors, as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cæsar,) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me,
Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?
Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to
And since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
Will modestly discover to yourself
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common laughter, or did use
To stale1 with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and Shout.
Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the
Choose Cæsar for their king. [people
Cas.
Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
B. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well:-
If it be aught toward the general good,
What is it that you would impart to me?
Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other,
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
And I will look on both indifferently:
The name of honour more than I fear death.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.-
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.
I was born free as Cæsar; so were you:
We both have fed as well: and we can both
Endure the winter's cold, as well as he.
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tyber chafing with her shores.
Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now,
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to youder point? Upon the word,
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