Men.

Pray now, your news?

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

If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,

Com.

He is their god: he leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better; and they follow him
Against us brats, with no less confidence

Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,

Or butchers killing flies.

Men.

If!

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!

Com.

Your Rome about your ears.
Men.

Did shake down mellow fruit.

He will shake

As Hercules

You have made fair work.

Ay; and you 'll look pale

Bru. But is this true, Sir?
Com.

Before you find it other. All the regions

Do smilingly revolt, and who resist

Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,

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

Your enemies, and his, find something in him.

Men. We are all undone, unless

The noble man have mercy.

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.

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.

Com.

You have brought

Say not, we brought it.

A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
So incapable of help.
Tri.

Men. 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.

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. 'T is no matter:

If he could burn us all into one coal,

We have deserv'd it.

Cit. 'Faith, we hear fearful news. 1 Cit.

For mine own part,

When I said, banish him, I said, 't was pity.

2 Cit. And so did I.

3 Cit. 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. Com. Y' are goodly things, you voices!

Sic. 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.

1 Cit. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let 's home.

I ever said, we were i' the wrong, when we banished him.

2 Cit. So did we all. But come, let's home.

Bru. I do not like this news.

Sic. Nor I.

[Exeunt Citizens.

Bru. Let's to the Capitol. - Would half my wealth

A Camp; at a small distance from Rome.
Enter AUFIDIus, and his Lieutenant.

Auf. Do they still fly to the Roman?

Lieu. I do not know what witchcraft 's in him, but

Your soldiers use him as the 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.

Auf.
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.

Lieu.

[Exeunt.

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.

Auf. I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
When he shall come to his account, he knows not
What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly,
And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,
Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone
That, which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
Whene'er we come to our account.

Lieu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he 'll carry Rome?

Auf. All places yield to him ere he sits down;

And the nobility of Rome are his :

The senators, and patricians, love him too.
The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people

Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty

To expel him thence. I think, he'll be to Rome,
As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
By sovereignty of nature. First he was
A noble servant to them, but he could not
Carry his honours even: whether 't was pride,
Which out of daily fortune ever taints
The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
Not to be other than one thing, not moving
From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace,
Even with the same austerity and garb

As he controll'd the war; but one of these
(As he hath spices of them all, not all,

For I dare so far free him) made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit,

To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues

Lie in the interpretation of the time,

And power, unto itself most commendable,

Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair

To extol what it hath done.

One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do fail.
Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'st of all; then, shortly art thou mine.

ACT V. SCENE L.

Rome. A Public Place.

[Exeunt.

Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and Others.
Men. No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said,

Which was sometime his general; who lov'd him
In a most dear particular. He call'd me father,
But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him,
A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coy'd
To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
Com. He would not seem to know me.
Men.

Do you hear?

Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name.

I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to; forbad all names:
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,

Till he had forg'd himself a name o' the fire

Of burning Rome.

Men.

Why, so; you have made good work:

A pair of tribunes, that have wreck'd for Rome,

To make coals cheap, a noble memory!

Com. I minded him, how royal 't was to pardon

When it was less expected: he replied,
It was a bare petition of a state

To one whom they had punish'd.

Men. Very well: could he say less?

Com. I offer'd to awaken his regard