Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanics :-tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not

To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.

Vol. O, no more, no more! You have said you will not grant us anything; For we have nothing else to ask but that Which you deny already yet we will ask; That, if you fail in our request, the blame May hang upon your hardness; therefore hear us. Cor. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll

Hear nought from Rome in private.—Your request?

Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our

raiment

And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself,
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and

sorrow;

Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barrest us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy : for how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound; together with thy
victory,

Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose

The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win : for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune till

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

Vir.

Ay, and mine, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your

name

Living to time.

Boy.

'A shall not tread on me ; I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be, Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. I have sat too long.

[Rising.

Vol. Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so that our request did tend

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volsces whom you serve, you might con-
demn us,

As poisonous of your honour. No; our suit
Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
May say, This mercy we have show'd; the
Romans,

This we received; and each in either side
Give the All-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd

For making up this peace! Thou know'st, great

son,

The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ,-The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroy'd his country; and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorr'd. Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not
speak?

Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak

you;

He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy :

Perhaps thy childishness will move him more Than can our reasons.-There is no man in the

world.

More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me

prate

Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life

Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy ;

When she, (poor hen!) fond of no second brood, Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home, Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, And spurn me back: but, if it be not so,

Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague

thee,

That thou restrain'st from me the duty which

To a mother's part belongs.-He turns away: Down, ladies! let us shame him with our knees. To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride Than pity to our prayers.

This is the last.

Down: an end:

So, we will home to Rome, And die among our neighbours.-Nay, behold

us:

This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.- Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child

Like him by chance. -Yet give us our dispatch:
I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,

And then I'll speak a little.

Cor.

O mother, mother! [Holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, the heavens do

ope,

The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome:
But, for your son,-believe it, O, believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come ;-
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufi-
dius,

Were you in my stead, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was moved withal.

Cor.
I dare be sworn you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing to make

Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part,

I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray

you,

Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife! Auf. [aside.] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.

[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS.

Cor. [to VOL., VIR., &c.] Ay, by-and-by; But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you: all the swords In Italy, and her confederate arms, Could not have made this peace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Rome.

A public Place.

Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS.

Men. See you yond' coign o' the Capitol; yond' corner-stone?

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.

Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alte the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub ano a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.