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Sic. This a Consul? no.
(Laying hold on Coriolanus. Cor. Hence, old goat ! All. We'll surely him. Com. Aged Sir, liands off.
Cor. Hence, rotten thing, or I shall Make thy Out of thy garments.
[bones Sic. Help me, citizens. Enter a Rabble of Plebeians, with the Ædiles. Men. On both filles, more respect. Sic. Here's he that would take from you
your Bru. Seize him, Ædiles,
(power. All. Down with him, down with him! 2 Sen. Weapons, weapons, weapons !
[They all bustle about Coriolanus. Tribunes, patricians, citizens—what hoe -Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, ciiizens !
1:11. Peace, peace, peace, itay, liold, peace!
Men. What is about to be?-I am out of breath; Confusion's
near, I cannot speak. --- You tribunes, Coriolanus, patience; speak, Sicinius. Sic. Hear me, people---peace.
[fpeak. All. Let's hear our tribune; peace; speak, fpcak, Sic. You are at point to lose your
liberties : Marcius would have all from you: Marcius, , Whom late you named for consul.
Men. Fy, 'fy, fy.
Sen. To unbuild the city, and to lay all hat.
Sic. What is the city, but the people?
Bru. By the content of all, we were established The people's magiitrates.
ill. You so remain.
Cor. That is the way to lay the city flat;
Sic. This deserves death,
Bru. Or let us stand to our authority,
Sic. Therefore lay hold on him;
Bru. Ædiles, seize himn.
Men. Hear me one word; 'befeech you, tribunes, hear me but a word Ædiles. Peace, peace.
[friends, Men. Be that you seem, truly your country's And temperately proceed to what you would Thus violently redress.
Bru. Sir, those cold ways, That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous, Where the disease is violent. Lay hands on him, And bear him to the rock. [Cor. draws his sword.
Cor. No; I'll die here. There's some
among you have beheld me fighting, Come try upon yourselves what you have seen me.
Nien. Down with that sword; tribunes, withdraw Bru. Lay hands upon him.
Men. Help, Marcius, help-you that be noble> help him young and old,
All. Down with him, down with him. [Exeunt. [In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ædiles, and
the people are beat in. Men. Go, get you to your house; begone, away, All will be naught elfe.
2 Sen. Get you gone. "Com. Stand fait, we have as many friends as ene
Sen. The gods forbid !
Men. For 'tis a fore
Com. Corne, Sir, along with us.
Men. I would they were Barbarians, (as they are, Though in Rome littered ;) not Romans: (as they Tho'calved in the porch o’th'capitol:) [are not, Begone, putnot your worthy rage into your tongue, One time will owe another.
Cor. On fair ground I could beat forty of them. Men. I could myself take up a brace o'th' beit of them; yea, the two tribunes.
Com. But now ’tis odds beyond arithmetic;
gone : I'll try if my old wit be in request With those that have but little; this must be patched Wich cloth of
any colour. Com. Come, away.
[Exeunt Cor. and Com. I Sen. This man hath marred his fortune.
Men. His nature is too noble for the world : He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder : his heart's his
mouth : What his breast forges, that his tongue mus vent; And being angry, does forget that ever He heard the name of death. [A noi - within. Here's goodly work..
2 Sen. I would they were a-bed.
Men. I would they were in Tyber. What, the Could he not speak 'em fair? (vengeance, Enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the Rabble again.
Sic. Where is this viper,
Men. You worthy tribunes
Sic. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock With rigorous hands; he hath refifted law, And therefore law shall fcorn him further trial Than the severity of public power, Which he so sets at nought.
i Cit. He shall well know, the noble tribunes are The people's mouths, and we their hands.
All He shall, be sure on't.
Men. Do not cry havoc, where you should but With modeit warrant.
[hunt Sic. Sir, how comes it you Have holp to make this rescue?
Men. Hear ine speak;
Sic. Consul!..-what coniul?
Dlen, Tke consul Coriolanus.
be heard, I'd crave a word-or two; [people, The which shall turn you to no further harm, Than so much loss of time.
Sic. Speak briefly then,
Men. Now the good gods forbid,
Sic. He's a disease that must be cut away.
Men. Oh, he's a limb that has but a disease; Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? Killing our enemies, the blood he hath loft (Which I dare vouch is more than that he hath, By many an ounce) he dropped it for his country: And what is left, to lose it by his country, Were to us all that do't, and suffer it, A brand to th' end oth' world.
-To ejell him bence
Our certain death: ] This reading, which has obtaiaed in the printed copies, destroys that climax which evidently seems designed here, and flattens the sentiment. In my opinion, the tribune would say, “ To banish him, will " be hazardous to us; to let him remain at home, our cer6 tain destruction."