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Folger Shakespeare Library, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 9, 2013.
American Shakespeare Center, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 16, 2013.
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Coriolanus (Folio 1, 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Not Peer Reviewed
30
The Tragedie of Coriolanus.
Auf. He approaches, you shall heare him.
Enter Coriolanus marching with Drumme, and Colours. The
3735
Commoners being with him.
Corio. Haile Lords, I am return'd your Souldier:
No more infected with my Countries loue
Then when I parted hence: but still subsisting
Vnder your great Command. You are to know,
3740That prosperously I haue attempted, and
With bloody passage led your Warres, euen to
The gates of Rome: Our spoiles we haue brought home
Doth more then counterpoize a full third part
The charges of the Action. We haue made peace
3745With no lesse Honor to the Antiates
Then shame to th' Romaines. And we heere deliuer
Subscrib'd by'th' Consuls, and Patricians,
Together with the Seale a'th Senat, what
We haue compounded on.
3750Auf. Read it not Noble Lords,
But tell the Traitor in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your Powers.
Corio. Traitor? How now?
Auf. I Traitor, Martius.
3755Corio. Martius?
Auf. I Martius, Caius Martius: Do'st thou thinke
Ile grace thee with that Robbery, thy stolne name
Coriolanus in Corioles?
You Lords and Heads a'th' State, perfidiously
3760He ha's betray'd your businesse, and giuen vp
For certaine 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 Silke, neuer admitting
3765Counsaile a'th' warre: But at his Nurses teares
He whin'd and roar'd away your Victory,
That Pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wond'ring each at others.
Corio. Hear'st thou Mars?
3770Auf. Name not the God, thou boy of Teares.
Corio. Ha?
Aufid. No more.
Corio. Measurelesse Lyar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what containes it. Boy? Oh Slaue,
3775Pardon me Lords, 'tis the first time that euer
I was forc'd to scoul'd. Your iudgments my graue Lords
Must giue this Curre the Lye: and his owne Notion,
Who weares my stripes imprest vpon him, that
Must beare my beating to his Graue, shall ioyne
3780To thrust the Lye vnto him.
1 Lord. Peace both, and heare me speake.
Corio. Cut me to peeces Volces men and Lads,
Staine all your edges on me. Boy, false Hound:
If you haue writ your Annales true, 'tis there,
3785That like an Eagle in a Doue-coat, I
Flatter'd your Volcians in Corioles.
Alone I did it, Boy.
Auf. Why Noble Lords,
Will you be put in minde of his blinde Fortune,
3790Which was your shame, by this vnholy Braggart?
'Fore your owne eyes, and eares?
All Consp. Let him dye for't.
All People. Teare him to peeces, do it presently:
He kill'd my Sonne, my daughter, he kill'd my Cosine
3795Marcus, he kill'd my Father.
2 Lord. Peace hoe: no outrage, peace:
The man is Noble, and his Fame folds in
This Orbe o'th' earth: His last offences to vs
Shall haue Iudicious hearing. Stand Auffidius,
3800And trouble not the peace.
Corio. O that I had him, with six Auffidiusses, or more:
His Tribe, to vse my lawfull Sword.
Auf. Insolent Villaine.
All Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
3805
Draw both the Conspirators, and kils Martius, who
falles, Auffidius stands on him.
Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf. My Noble Masters, heare me speake.
1. Lord. O Tullus.
38102. Lord. Thou hast done a deed, whereat
Valour will weepe.
3. Lord. Tread not vpon him Masters, all be quiet,
Put vp your Swords.
Auf. My Lords,
3815When you shall know (as in this Rage
Prouok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger
Which this mans life did owe you, you'l reioyce
That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honours
To call me to your Senate, Ile deliuer
3820My selfe your loyall Seruant, or endure
Your heauiest Censure.
1. Lord. Beare from hence his body,
And mourne you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most Noble Coarse, that euer Herald
3825Did follow to his Vrne.
2. Lord. His owne impatience,
Takes from Auffidius a great part of blame:
Let's make the Best of it.
Auf. My Rage is gone,
3830And I am strucke with sorrow. Take him vp:
Helpe three a'th' cheefest Souldiers, Ile be one.
Beate thou the Drumme that it speake mournfully:
Traile your steele Pikes. Though in this City hee
Hath widdowed and vnchilded many a one,
3835Which to this houre bewaile the Iniury,
Yet he shall haue a Noble Memory. Assist.
Exeunt bearing the Body of Martius. A dead March
Sounded.

FINIS.