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I charge thee,

       And follow to thine answer.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Hence, old goat!

       SENATORS and PATRICIANS.

       We’ll surety him.

       COMINIUS.

       Aged sir, hands off.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones

       Out of thy garments.

       SICINIUS.

       Help, ye citizens!

       [Re-enter Brutus, with the AEDILES and a rabble of Citizens.]

       MENENIUS.

       On both sides more respect.

       SICINIUS.

       Here’s he that would take from you all your power.

       BRUTUS.

       Seize him, aediles.

       PLEBEIANS.

       Down with him! down with him!

       SECOND SENATOR.

       Weapons, weapons, weapons!

       [They all bustle about CORIOLANUS.]

       Tribunes! patricians! citizens!—What, ho!—

       Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, Citizens!

       CITIZENS.

       Peace, peace, peace; stay, hold, peace!

       MENENIUS.

       What is about to be?—I am out of breath;

       Confusion’s near: I cannot speak.—You tribunes

       To the people,—Coriolanus, patience:—

       Speak, good Sicinius.

       SICINIUS.

       Hear me, people: peace!

       CITIZENS.

       Let’s hear our tribune: peace!—

       Speak, speak, speak.

       SICINIUS.

       You are at point to lose your liberties;

       Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,

       Whom late you have nam’d for consul.

       MENENIUS.

       Fie, fie, fie!

       This is the way to kindle, not to quench.

       FIRST SENATOR.

       To unbuild the city, and to lay all flat.

       SICINIUS.

       What is the city but the people?

       CITIZENS.

       True,

       The people are the city.

       BRUTUS.

       By the consent of all, we were establish’d

       The people’s magistrates.

       CITIZENS.

       You so remain.

       MENENIUS.

       And so are like to do.

       COMINIUS.

       That is the way to lay the city flat;

       To bring the roof to the foundation,

       And bury all which yet distinctly ranges,

       In heaps and piles of ruin.

       SICINIUS.

       This deserves death.

       BRUTUS.

       Or let us stand to our authority,

       Or let us lose it.—We do here pronounce,

       Upon the part o’ the people, in whose power

       We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy

       Of present death.

       SICINIUS.

       Therefore lay hold of him;

       Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence

       Into destruction cast him.

       BRUTUS.

       Aediles, seize him!

       CITIZENS.

       Yield, Marcius, yield!

       MENENIUS.

       Hear me one word;

       Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

       AEDILES.

       Peace, peace!

       MENENIUS.

       Be that you seem, truly your country’s friends,

       And temperately proceed to what you would

       Thus violently redress.

       BRUTUS.

       Sir, those cold ways,

       That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous

       Where the disease is violent.—Lay hands upon him

       And bear him to the rock.

       CORIOLANUS.

       No; I’ll die here. [Draws his sword.]

       There’s some among you have beheld me fighting;

       Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.

       MENENIUS.

       Down with that sword!—Tribunes, withdraw awhile.

       BRUTUS.

       Lay hands upon him.

       MENENIUS.

       Help Marcius, help,

       You that be noble; help him, young and old!

       CITIZENS.

       Down with him, down with him!

       [In this mutiny the TRIBUNES, the AEDILES, and the people are beat in.]

       MENENIUS.

       Go, get you to your house; be gone, away!

       All will be nought else.

       SECOND SENATOR.

       Get you gone.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Stand fast;

       We have as many friends as enemies.

       MENENIUS.

       Shall it be put to that?

       FIRST SENATOR.

       The gods forbid:

       I pr’ythee, noble friend, home to thy house;

       Leave us to cure this cause.

       MENENIUS.

       For ‘tis a sore upon us

       You cannot tent yourself; be gone, beseech you.

       COMINIUS.

       Come, sir, along with us.

       CORIOLANUS.

       I would they were barbarians,—as they are,

       Though in Rome litter’d,—not Romans,—as they are not,

       Though calv’d i’ the porch o’ the Capitol.

       MENENIUS.

       Be gone;

       Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;

       One time will owe another.

       CORIOLANUS.

       On fair ground

       I could beat forty of them.

       MENENIUS.

       I could myself

       Take up a brace o’ the best of them; yea, the two tribunes.

       COMINIUS.

       But now ‘tis odds beyond arithmetic;

       And manhood is call’d foolery when it stands

      

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