Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouched,
Would seem but modest. Therefore, I beseech you,
(In sign of what you are, not to reward

What you have done,) before our army hear me.

Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remembered.

Com.

Should they not,

Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,

And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
(Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store,) of all
The treasure, in this field achieved, and city,
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at

Your only choice.

Mar.
I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[A long flourish. They all cry, Marcius!
Marcius! cast up their caps and lances;
COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare.

grows

May these same instruments, which you profane,
Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall
I'the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-faced soothing. When steel
Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars! No more, I say;
For that I have not washed my nose that bled,
Or foiled some debile wretch,-which, without note,

1

When steel grows

Soft as silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars!"

Mr. Tyrwhitt thinks that we should read a coverture. The personal pronoun him is not unfrequently used by old writers instead of it, the neuter. The sense of the passage will then be complete and apt:"When steel grows soft as silk, let armor be made of silk instead of steel."

Here's many else have done,―you shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;

As if I loved my little should be dieted

In praises sauced with lies.

Com.

Too modest are you;

More cruel to your good report, than grateful
To us that give you truly. By your patience,
If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you
(Like one that means his proper harm) in manacles,
Then reason safely with you.-Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and, from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,

With all the applause and clamor of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.-

Bear the addition nobly ever!

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums.

All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!

Cor. I will go wash;

And when my face is fair, you shall perceive

Whether I blush, or no.

Howbeit, I thank you.

I mean to stride your steed; and, at all times,
To undercrest your good addition,1

To the fairness of my power.

Com.

So, to our tent;

Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success.-You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back. Send us to Rome
The best with whom we may articulate 2
For their own good, and ours.

Lart.

I shall, my lord.

Cor. The gods begin to mock me.
I that now
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg

Of my lord general.

1 This appears to mean, "he will endeavor to support the honorable distinction conferred upon him to the fair extent of his power."

2 i. e. the chief men of Corioli, with whom we may enter into articles. Bullokar has the word "articulate, to set down articles, or conditions of agreement."

Com.

Take it; 'tis yours.-What is't?

Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli,

At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,

And wrath o'erwhelmed my pity. I request you
To give my poor host freedom.

Com.

O, well begged!

Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Lart. Marcius, his name?

Cor.

By Jupiter, forgot.

I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.-
Have we no wine here?

Com. Go we to our tent;

The blood upon your visage dries: 'tis time
It should be looked to; come.

[Exeunt.

SCENE X. The Camp of the Volces.

A Flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers.

Auf. The town is ta'en!

1 Sol. "Twill be delivered back on good condition. Auf. Condition ?—

I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,

Being a Volce,1 be that I am.-Condition!

What good condition can a treaty find

I'the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me;
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat.-By the elements,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He is mine, or I am his. Mine emulation
Hath not that honor in't, it had; for where

2

1 The Volsci are called Volsces throughout the old translation of Plutarch, which Shakspeare followed.

2 Where for whereas.

I thought to crush him in an equal force,

True sword to sword,) I'll potch' at him some way; Or wrath, or craft, may get him.

1 Sol.

Auf. Bolder, though not so

poisoned,2

He's the devil.

With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself. Nor sleep, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick; nor fame, nor Capitol,
The prayers of priest, nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements3 all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius; where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I

4

Wash my fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome.

1 Sol.

5

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove. I pray you,

('Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it

I may spur on my journey.

1 Sol.

I shall, sir.

[Exeunt.

1 To potch is to thrust at with a sharp-pointed instrument. 2 Mr. Tyrwhitt proposed to read :—

"My valor poisoned," &c.

And the context seems to require this emendation.

my valor should deviate from its native generosity."

"To mischief him,

3 Embarquements meant not only an embarkation, but an embargoing. 4 i. e. in my own house, with my brother posted to protect him.

5 Attended is waited for.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Rome. A public Place.

Enter MENENIUS, SICINIUS, and BRUTUS.

Men. The augurer tells me, we shall have news to-night.

Bru. Good or bad?

Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.

Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Men. Pray you, who does the wolf love?

Sic. The lamb.

Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.

Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baas like a bear.

Men. He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Both Trib. Well, sir.

Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor in,' that you two have not in abundance?

Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. Sic. Especially in pride.

Bru. And topping all others in boasting.

Men. This is strange, now.

Do you two know how

you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the

right hand file? Do you?

Both Trib. Why, how are we censured? Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will be angry?

Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well.

you not

Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. Give your disposition the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure

1 Pleonasms of this kind were by no means unfrequent.