Imatges de pàgina
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Make your eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comfort,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and

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Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The sou, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st 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
Mast, as a foreign miscreant, 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.

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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 receiv'd; and each in either side
Give the all-bail 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,
Wase repetition will be dogg'd with curses:

bose chronicle thus writ,-The man was noble, But with his last attempt he wip'd it out; Destroyed his country: and his name remains To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me,

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Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To unitate 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!

Thma'st thou it honourable for a noble man
St 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
[prate
Were bound to his mother; yet here be lets me
Le one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Sow'd thy dear mother any courtesy ;
When she (poor hen!) fond of no second brood,
Has crack'd thee too the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And sparn me back: But, if it be not so,
Thos 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.

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To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; an end:
This is the last ;-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 despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
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, oh! believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come :
Autidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Au-
fidius,

Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius ?
Auf. I was mov'd 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. I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy hononr

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

[Aside. [The ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS, Cor. Ay, by and by:

[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c. 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 † upoù execution.

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

Men. There is differency between a grub and 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.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made § for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. 1 Chair of stalpo

• Angle.

Stay but for it.
To resemble.

Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what | Enter Three or Four CONSPIRATORS of Auvimercy his mother shall bring from him: There DIUS'S Faction. is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a Most welcome! male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all that is 'long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them: and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house:

The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune,
And bale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.

Enter another MESSENGER.

Sic. What's the news?

Mess. Good news, good news :-The ladies have prevail'd,

The Volsces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone :
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

Sic. Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire: Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it! Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recoinforted through the gates. Why hark you;

[Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums beaten, all together. Shouting also within. The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you!

Men. This is good news:

[Shouting again.

I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patriciaus,
A city full of tribunes such as you,

A sea and land full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and Music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for their tidings:
Accept my thankfulness.
[next,

Mess. Sir, we have al

Great cause to give great thanks, Sic. They are near the city? Mess. Almost at point to enter. Sic. We will meet them,

And help the joy.

[Going.

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Welcome!

[A flourish with Drums and Trumpets. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Antium.-A Public Place. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse, The city ports by this hath enter'd, and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: Despatch. [Exeunt Attendants.

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1 Con. How is it with our general?
Auf. Even so,

As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.

2 Con. Most noble Sir,

If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.

Auf. Sir, I cannot tell :

We must proceed, as we do find the people.

3 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

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ten'd,

He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free,

3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,

When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf. That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat; I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his project to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designmnen s
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong; till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, † as if
I had been mercenary.

1 Con. So he did, my lord:

The army marvell'd at it. And, in the last, When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory,—

Auf. There was it ;

For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: Therefore shall he die
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

[Drums and Trumpets sound, with great
shouts of the People.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home; but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools, whose children he hath slain, their base throats

tear,

With giving him glory.

3 Con. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body.

Auf. Say no more: Here come the lords.

Enter the LORDS of the City.

Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf. I have not deserv'd it:

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus d
What I have written to you?

Lords. We have.

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Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.

Enter CORIOLANUS, with Drums and Colours; a Crowd of CITIZENS with him.

Cer. Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier;
No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and,
With bloody passage led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought
home,

Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans; and we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o'the senate, what
We have compounded on.

Auf. Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor in the highest degree
He hath abas'd your powers.

Cor. Traitor!-How now?
Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Cor. Marcias!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: Dost thou think

Il grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli ?—

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up
For certain drops of salt your city Rome
(I say, your city) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his oath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk: never admitting
Comsel o'the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whin'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars?

Auf Name not the god, thou boy of tears,Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more. +

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave !Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was fore'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,

Mast give this car the lie and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd on him that
must bear

My beating to his grave,) shall join to thrust
The to bim.

1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. Cut me to pieces, Volsces: men and lads, Stan all your edges on me.-Boy! False hound! li you save writ your annals true, 'tis there,

*Drops of tears. ↑ No more than a boy of tears, |

That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your voices in Corioli: Alone I did it.-Boy!

Auf. why, noble lords,

Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, 'Fore your own eyes and ears?

Con. Let him die for't. [Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son :-my daughter;-He killed my cousin Marcius;-He my father.

killed

2 Lord. Peace, ho ;-no outrage ;-peace. The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o'the earth. His last offence to us Shall have judicious+ hearing.—Stand, Autìdius, And trouble not the peace.

Cor. Oh that I had him,

With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!

Auf. Insolent villain!

Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

[AUFIDIUS and the CONSPIRATORS draw, and kill CORIOLANUS, who falls, and AUFIDIUS stands on him.

Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold!

Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak.

1 Lord. O Tullus!

2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

3 Lord. Tread not upon him.-Masters, all, be Put up your swords. [quiet: Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in

this rage,

Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.

1 Lord. Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.

2 Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it.

Auf. My rage is gone,

And I am struck with sorrow.-Take him up:
Help, three o'the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.-
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.
Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLA-
NUS. A dead March sounded.

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ABOUT the middle of February, A.U.C. 709, a riotous festival sacred to Pan, and called Lupercalia, was held i honour of Cesar, when the regal crown was offered him by Antony. In the middle of the following Marc be was assassinated. November 27, 710, the Triumvirs, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavius, met at a small island formed by the river Rhenus, near Bononia, and there agreed upon the cruel proscription introduced in Ac IV.---In 711, Brutus and Cassius were totally defeated at Philippi.---Shakspeare appears to have produced thi play about the year 1607: one, upon the same subject, had been written by a young Scotch Nobleman, the Ear of Sterline; and in many passages of each, a strong similarity may be traced :---this was probably occasione by both authors drawing their materials from the same source.---A Latin play on this subject, by Dr. Eedes, o Oxford, who is enumerated amongst the best tragic authors of that era, was published in 1582.---Dr. Johnso says of this tragedy :---"Many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement o Brutus and Cassius are universally celebrated, but I have never been strongly agitated in perusing it, an think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakspeare's plays: his adherence t tae real story, and to Roman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of his genius."

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SCENE: the first three acts at Rome: afterwards at an Island near Mutina, at Sardis; and nea

Philippi.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.-Rome.-A Street.

Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a Rabble of
CITIZENS.

Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get
you home;

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk
Upon a labouring day, without the sign

Of your profession ?-Speak, what trade art thou?
1 Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter.

Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule ?
What dost thou with thy best apparel on ?—
You, Sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman? I ani but, as you would say, a cobler.

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.

2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a meuder of bad soals.

Mar. What trade, thou knave! thou naughty knave, what trade?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me yet, if you be out, Sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you.
Flav. Thou art a cobler, art thou?

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters nor woman's matters, but with awl. I am are in great danger, I recover them. As prope indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when the men as ever trod upon neats-leather, have gon upon my handy-work.

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day Why dost thou lead these men about the streets 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, t get myself into more work. But, indeed, Sh we make holiday to see Cesar, and to rejoice i his triumph.

Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest bring
he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his charict wheels?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than sensele

things?

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
Your infants in your armis, and there have sat
The live-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome
And when you saw his chariot but appear,
Have you not made an universal shout,
That Tyber trembled underneath her banks
To hear the replication of your sounds,
Made in her concave shores ?

And do you now put on your best attire ?
And do you now cull out a holiday?
And do you now strew flowers in his way,
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?
Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Fiat. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this
Assemble all the poor men of your sort; [fault,
Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears
Into the channel, till the lowest streami
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[Exeunt CITIZENS.
See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd;
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
This way will I: Disrobe the images,
If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. ⚫
Mar. May we do so?

You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

Flar. It is no matter; let no images
Be hung with Cesar's trophies. + I'll about,
And drive away the vulgar from the streets :
So do you too where you perceive them thick.
These growing feathers pluck'd from Cesar's wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch:
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

[Exeunt.

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness, And show of love-as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.

Bru. Cassius,

Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am,
Of late, with passions of some difference;
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil, perhaps, to my beha-
viours:

But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd:
(Amoug which number, Cassius, be you one)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Cus. Then, Brutus, I have inuch mistook your
passion, t

By means whereof, this breast of mine hath
buried

Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cassius for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection, by some other things.
Cas. 'Tis just:

And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you have no such mirrors as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortal Cesar) speaking of Brutus,

SCENE 11.-The same.-A public Place.
Enter, in Procession, with Music, CESAR ; AN-And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
TONY, for the course; CALPHURNIA, PORTIA,
DECIES, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and
CASCA, a great Crowd following, among them
@ SOUTH SAYER.

Ces. Calphartia,—

Costa. Peace, ho! Cesar speaks.

Ces. Calpurnia,-
Cal. Here, my lord.

Ces. Stand you directly in Antonins' way, When he doth run his course. —Antonius. Ant. Cesar, my lord.

Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me,
Cassius,

That you would have me seek into myself
For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, he prepar'd s
hear:
[Music ceases. And, since you know you cannot see yourself
So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
Will modestly discover to yourself
That of yourself which you yet know not of.
And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus :
Were I a common laughter, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love
To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,
And after scandal them; or, if you know
That I profess myself in banqueting
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
[Flourish and shout.
Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the
people

Ces. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say, The barren touched in this holy chase, Shake off their steril curse.

Ant. I shall remember:

When Cesar says, Do this, it is perform'd. 643. Set on; and leave no ceremony out.

Sonth. Cesar!

Crs. Ha! who calls?

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[Music.

Casca. Bid every noise be still :-Peace yet [Music ceases. Cer. Who is it in the press that calls on me? 1 bear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry, Cesar !—Speak; Cesar is turned to hear. South. Beware the ides of March. Ors. What man is that?

Bra. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of

March.

Cer. Set him before me, let me see his face.
Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon

Cesar.

Cer. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once

again.

Both. Beware the ides of March.

C. He is a dreamer: let us leave him ;-pass. "Sennet. Ereunt all but BRU. and CAS. far. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not L

tas. I pray you, do.

Choose Cesar for their king.

Cas. Ay, do you fear it?

Then must I think you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him
well:-

But wherefore do you hold me here so long!
What is it that you would impart to me?
If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honour in one eye, and death i'the other,
And I will look on both indifferently:
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death.

Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward favour.
Well, honour is the subject of my story.--
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief. not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.

I was born free as Cesar; so were you:
We both have fed as well; and we can both

Bra. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Endure the winter's cold, as well as he.

of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;

ra leave you.

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