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  • Title: Coriolanus (Folio 1, 1623)

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Coriolanus (Folio 1, 1623)

    30The Tragedie of Coriolanus.
    Auf. He approaches, you shall heare him.
    Enter Coriolanus marching with Drumme, and Colours. The
    3735Commoners 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