LITMIR.BIZ

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That shapes man better; and they follow him,

       Against us brats, with no less confidence

       Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,

       Or butchers killing flies.

       MENENIUS.

       You have made good work,

       You and your apron men; you that stood so much

       Upon the voice of occupation and

       The breath of garlic-eaters!

       COMINIUS.

       He’ll shake

       Your Rome about your ears.

       MENENIUS.

       As Hercules

       Did shake down mellow fruit.—You have made fair work!

       BRUTUS.

       But is this true, sir?

       COMINIUS.

       Ay; and you’ll look pale

       Before you find it other. All the regions

       Do smilingly revolt; and who resists

       Are mock’d for valiant ignorance,

       And perish constant fools. Who is’t can blame him?

       Your enemies and his find something in him.

       MENENIUS.

       We are all undone unless

       The noble man have mercy.

       COMINIUS.

       Who shall ask it?

       The tribunes cannot do’t for shame; the people

       Deserve such pity of him as the wolf

       Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they

       Should say ‘Be good to Rome,’ they charg’d him even

       As those should do that had deserv’d his hate,

       And therein show’d like enemies.

       MENENIUS.

       ‘Tis true:

       If he were putting to my house the brand

       That should consume it, I have not the face

       To say ‘Beseech you, cease.’—You have made fair hands,

       You and your crafts! You have crafted fair!

       COMINIUS.

       You have brought

       A trembling upon Rome, such as was never

       So incapable of help.

       BOTH TRIBUNES.

       Say not, we brought it.

       MENENIUS.

       How! Was it we? we lov’d him, but, like beasts,

       And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,

       Who did hoot him out o’ the city.

       COMINIUS.

       But I fear

       They’ll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,

       The second name of men, obeys his points

       As if he were his officer:—desperation

       Is all the policy, strength, and defence,

       That Rome can make against them.

       [Enter a troop of citizens.]

       MENENIUS.

       Here comes the clusters.—

       And is Aufidius with him?—You are they

       That made the air unwholesome, when you cast

       Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at

       Coriolanus’ exile. Now he’s coming;

       And not a hair upon a soldier’s head

       Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs

       As you threw caps up will he tumble down,

       And pay you for your voices. ‘Tis no matter;

       If he could burn us all into one coal

       We have deserv’d it.

       CITIZENS.

       Faith, we hear fearful news.

       FIRST CITIZEN.

       For mine own part,

       When I said banish him, I said ‘twas pity.

       SECOND CITIZEN.

       And so did I.

       THIRD CITIZEN. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very many of us. That we did, we did for the best; and though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our will.

       COMINIUS.

       You are goodly things, you voices!

       MENENIUS.

       You have made

       Good work, you and your cry!—Shall’s to the Capitol?

       COMINIUS.

       O, ay; what else?

       [Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS.]

       SICINIUS.

       Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay’d;

       These are a side that would be glad to have

       This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,

       And show no sign of fear.

       FIRST CITIZEN. The gods be good to us!—Come, masters, let’s home. I ever said we were i’ the wrong when we banished him.

       SECOND CITIZEN.

       So did we all. But come, let’s home.

       [Exeunt Citizens.]

       BRUTUS.

       I do not like this news.

       SICINIUS.

       Nor I.

       BRUTUS.

       Let’s to the Capitol:—would half my wealth

       Would buy this for a lie!

       SICINIUS.

       Pray let’s go.

       [Exeunt.]

       SCENE VII. A camp at a short distance from Rome.

       [Enter AUFIDIUS and his LIEUTENANT.]

       AUFIDIUS.

       Do they still fly to the Roman?

       LIEUTENANT.

       I do not know what witchcraft’s in him, but

       Your soldiers use him as the grace ‘fore meat,

       Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;

       And you are darken’d in this action, sir,

       Even by your own.

       AUFIDIUS.

       I cannot help it now,

       Unless by using means, I lame the foot

       Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,

       Even to my person, than I thought he would

       When first I did embrace him: yet his nature

       In that’s no changeling; and I must excuse

       What cannot be amended.

       LIEUTENANT.

       Yet I wish, sir,—

       I mean, for your particular,—you had not

       Join’d in commission with him; but either

       Had borne the action of yourself, or else

       To him had left it solely.

       AUFIDIUS.

       I understand thee well; and be thou sure,

      

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