LITMIR.BIZ

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All’s well, and might have been much better if

       He could have temporiz’d.

       SICINIUS.

       Where is he, hear you?

       MENENIUS.

       Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife

       Hear nothing from him.

       [Enter three or four Citizens.]

       CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both!

       SICINIUS.

       God-den, our neighbours.

       BRUTUS.

       God-den to you all, God-den to you all.

       FIRST CITIZEN.

       Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees,

       Are bound to pray for you both.

       SICINIUS.

       Live and thrive!

       BRUTUS.

       Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish’d Coriolanus

       Had lov’d you as we did.

       CITIZENS.

       Now the gods keep you!

       BOTH TRIBUNES.

       Farewell, farewell.

       [Exeunt Citizens.]

       SICINIUS.

       This is a happier and more comely time

       Than when these fellows ran about the streets

       Crying confusion.

       BRUTUS.

       Caius Marcius was

       A worthy officer i’ the war; but insolent,

       O’ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,

       Self-loving,—

       SICINIUS.

       And affecting one sole throne,

       Without assistance.

       MENENIUS.

       I think not so.

       SICINIUS.

       We should by this, to all our lamentation,

       If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

       BRUTUS.

       The gods have well prevented it, and Rome

       Sits safe and still without him.

       [Enter an AEDILE.]

       AEDILE.

       Worthy tribunes,

       There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,

       Reports,—the Volsces with several powers

       Are enter’d in the Roman territories,

       And with the deepest malice of the war

       Destroy what lies before ‘em.

       MENENIUS.

       ‘Tis Aufidius,

       Who, hearing of our Marcius’ banishment,

       Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;

       Which were inshell’d when Marcius stood for Rome,

       And durst not once peep out.

       SICINIUS.

       Come, what talk you of Marcius?

       BRUTUS.

       Go see this rumourer whipp’d.—It cannot be

       The Volsces dare break with us.

       MENENIUS.

       Cannot be!

       We have record that very well it can;

       And three examples of the like hath been

       Within my age. But reason with the fellow,

       Before you punish him, where he heard this;

       Lest you shall chance to whip your information

       And beat the messenger who bids beware

       Of what is to be dreaded.

       SICINIUS.

       Tell not me:

       I know this cannot be.

       BRUTUS.

       Not possible.

       [Enter A MESSENGER.]

       MESSENGER.

       The nobles in great earnestness are going

       All to the senate-house: some news is come

       That turns their countenances.

       SICINIUS.

       ‘Tis this slave,—

       Go whip him fore the people’s eyes:—his raising;

       Nothing but his report.

       MESSENGER.

       Yes, worthy sir,

       The slave’s report is seconded, and more,

       More fearful, is deliver’d.

       SICINIUS.

       What more fearful?

       MESSENGER.

       It is spoke freely out of many mouths,—

       How probable I do not know,—that Marcius,

       Join’d with Aufidius, leads a power ‘gainst Rome,

       And vows revenge as spacious as between

       The young’st and oldest thing.

       SICINIUS.

       This is most likely!

       BRUTUS.

       Rais’d only, that the weaker sort may wish

       Good Marcius home again.

       SICINIUS.

       The very trick on ‘t.

       MENENIUS.

       This is unlikely:

       He and Aufidius can no more atone

       Than violentest contrariety.

       [Enter a second MESSENGER.]

       SECOND MESSENGER.

       You are sent for to the senate:

       A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius

       Associated with Aufidius, rages

       Upon our territories; and have already

       O’erborne their way, consum’d with fire and took

       What lay before them.

       [Enter COMINIUS.]

       COMINIUS.

       O, you have made good work!

       MENENIUS.

       What news? what news?

       COMINIUS.

       You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and

       To melt the city leads upon your pates;

       To see your wives dishonour’d to your noses,—

       MENENIUS.

       What’s the news? what’s the news?

       COMINIUS.

       Your temples burned in their cement; and

       Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin’d

       Into an auger’s bore.

       MENENIUS.

       Pray now, your news?—

       You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news.

       If Marcius should be join’d wi’ the Volscians,—

       COMINIUS.

       If!

       He is their god: he leads them like a thing

      

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