The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: aa2v - Tragedies, p. 4

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The Tragedie of Coriolanus.
[Act 1, Scene 3] Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife to Martius: They set them downe on two lowe stooles and sowe. Volum.

I pray you daughter sing, or expresse your selfe

in a more comfortable sort: If my Sonne were my Hus­

[350]

band, I should freelier reioyce in that absence wherein

he wonne Honor, then in the embracements of his Bed,

where he would shew most loue. When yet hee was but

tender‑bodied, and the onely Sonne of my womb; when

youth with comelinesse pluck'd all gaze his way; when

[355]

for a day of Kings entreaties, a Mother should not sel him

an houre from her beholding; I considering how Honour

would become such a person, that it was no better then

Picture‑like to hang by th' wall, if renowne made it not

stirre, was pleas'd to let him seeke danger, where he was

[360]

like to finde fame: To a cruell Warre I sent him, from

whence he return'd, his browes bound with Oake. I tell

thee Daughter, I sprang not more in ioy at first hearing

he was a Man‑child, then now in first seeing he had pro­

ued himselfe a man.

Virg.
[365]

But had he died in the Businesse Madame, how

then?

Volum.

Then his good report should haue beene my

Sonne, I therein would haue found issue. Heare me pro­

fesse sincerely, had I a dozen sons each in my loue alike,

[370]

and none lesse deere then thine, and my good Martius, I

had rather had eleuen dye Nobly for their Countrey, then

one voluptuously surfet out of Action.

Enter a Gentlewoman. Gent.

Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit you.

Virg.

Beseech you giue me leaue to retire my selfe.

Volum.
[375]
Indeed you shall not: Me thinkes, I heare hither your Husbands Drumme: See him plucke Auffidius downe by th'haire: (As children from a Beare) the Volces shunning him: Me thinkes I see him stampe thus, and call thus,
[380]
Come on you Cowards, you were got in feare Though you were borne in Rome; his bloody brow With his mail'd hand, then wiping, forth he goes Like to a Haruest man, that task'd to mowe Or all, or loose his hyre.
Virg.
[385]

His bloody Brow? Oh Iupiter, no blood.

Volum. Away you Foole; it more becomes a man Then gilt his Trophe. The brests of Hecuba When she did suckle Hector, look'd not louelier Then Hectors forhead, when it spit forth blood
[390]
At Grecian sword. Contenning, tell Valeria We are fit to bid her welcome.
Exit Gent. Vir.

Heauens blesse my Lord from fell Auffidius

Vol. Hee'l beat Auffidius head below his knee, And treade vpon his necke. Enter Valeria with an Vsher, and a Gentlewoman. Val.
[395]

My Ladies both good day to you.

Vol.

Sweet Madam.

Vir.

I am glad to see your Ladyship.

Val.

How do you both? You are manifest house‑kee­

pers. What are you sowing heere? A fine spotte in good

[400]

faith. How does your little Sonne?

Vir.

I thanke your Lady‑ship: Well good Madam.

Vol.

He had rather see the swords, and heare a Drum,

then looke vpon his Schoolmaster.

Val.

A my word the Fathers Sonne: Ile sweare 'tis a

[405]

very pretty boy. A my troth, I look'd vpon him a Wens­

day halfe an houre together: ha's such a confirm'd coun­

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tenance. I saw him run after a gilded Butterfly, & when

he caught it, he let it go againe, and after it againe, and o­

uer and ouer he comes, and vp againe: catcht it again: or

[410]

whether his fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, hee did so set

his teeth, and teare it. Oh, I warrant how he mammockt

it.

Vol.

One on's Fathers moods.

Val.

Indeed la, tis a Noble childe.

Virg.
[415]

A Cracke Madam.

Val.

Come, lay aside your stitchery, I must haue you

play the idle Huswife with me this afternoone.

Virg.

No (good Madam)

I will not out of doores.

Val.
[420]

Not out of doores?

Volum.

She shall, she shall.

Virg.

Indeed no, by your patience; Ile not ouer the

threshold, till my Lord returne from the Warres.

Val.

Fye, you confine your selfe most vnreasonably:

[425]

Come, you must go visit the good Lady that lies in.

Virg.

I will wish her speedy strength, and visite her

with my prayers: but I cannot go thither.

Volum.

Why I pray you.

Vlug.

'Tis not to saue labour, nor that I want loue.

Val.
[430]

You would be another Penelope: yet they say, all

the yearne she spun in Vlisses absence, did but fill Athica

full of Mothes. Come, I would your Cambrick were sen­

sible as your finger, that you might leaue pricking it for

pitie. Come you shall go with vs.

Vir.
[435]

No good Madam, pardon me, indeed I will not

foorth.

Val.

In truth la go with me, and Ile tell you excellent

newes of your Husband.

Virg.

Oh good Madam, there can be none yet.

Val.
[440]

Verily I do not iest with you: there came newes

from him last night.

Vir.

Indeed Madam.

Val.

In earnest it's true; I heard a Senatour speake it.

Thus it is: the Volcies haue an Army forth, against whō whom

[445]

Cominius the Generall is gone, with one part of our Ro­

mane power. Your Lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down

before their Citie Carioles, they nothing doubt preuai­

ling, and to make it breefe Warres. This is true on mine

Honor, and so I pray go with vs.

Virg.
[450]

Giue me excuse good Madame, I will obey you

in euery thing heereafter.

Vol. Let her alone Ladie, as she is now: She will but disease our better mirth. Valeria. In troth I thinke she would:
[455]
Fare you well then. Come good sweet Ladie. Prythee Virgilia turne thy solemnesse out a doore, And go along with vs.
Virgil. No At a word Madam; Indeed I must not,
[460]
I wish you much mirth.
Val.

Well, then farewell.

Exeunt. Ladies.
[Act 1, Scene 4] Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with Drumme and Co­ lours, with Captaines and Souldiers, as before the City Corialus: to them a Messenger. Martius. Yonder comes Newes: A Wager they haue met. Lar.

My horse to yours, no.

Mar.
[465]

Tis done.

Lart.

Agreed.

Mar.

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[Act 1, Scene 4] Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with Drumme and Co­ lours, with Captaines and Souldiers, as before the City Corialus: to them a Messenger. Martius. Yonder comes Newes: A Wager they haue met. Lar.

My horse to yours, no.

Mar.
[465]

Tis done.

Lart.

Agreed.

Mar.

Say, ha's our Generall met the Enemy?

Mess.

They lye in view, but haue not spoke as yet.

Lart.

So, the good Horse is mine.

Mart.
[470]

Ile buy him of you.

Lart. No, Ile nor sel, nor giue him: Lend you him I will For halfe a hundred yeares: Summon the Towne. Mar.

How farre off lie these Armies?

Mess.

Within this mile and halfe.

Mar.
[475]
Then shall we heare their Larum, & they Ours. Now Mars, I prythee make vs quicke in worke, That we with smoaking swords may march from hence To helpe our fielded Friends. Come, blow thy blast. They Sound a Parley: Enter two Senators with others on the Walles of Corialus. Tullus Auffidious, is he within your Walles?
1. Senat.
[480]
No, nor a man that feares you lesse then he, That's lesser then a little: Drum a farre off. Hearke, our Drummes Are bringing forth our youth: Wee'l breake our Walles Rather then they shall pound vs vp our Gates,
[485]
Which yet seeme shut, we haue but pin'd with Rushes, They'le open of themselues. Harke you, farre off Alarum farre off. There is Auffidious. List what worke he makes Among'st your clouen Army.
Mart.

Oh they are at it.

Lart.
[490]
Their noise be our instruction. Ladders hoa.
Enter the Army of the Volces. Mar. They feare vs not, but issue forth their Citie. Now put your Shields before your hearts, and fight With hearts more proofe then Shields. Aduance braue Titus,
[495]
They do disdaine vs much beyond our Thoughts, which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on my fellows He that retires, Ile take him for a Volce, And he shall feele mine edge.
Alarum, the Romans are beat back to their Trenches Enter Martius Cursing. Mar. All the contagion of the South, light on you,
[500]
You Shames of Rome: you Heard of Byles and Plagues Plaister you o're, that you may be abhorr'd Farther then seene, and one infect another Against the Winde a mile: you soules of Geese, That beare the shapes of men, how haue you run
[505]
From Slaues, that Apes would beate; Pluto and Hell, All hurt behinde, backes red, and faces pale With flight and agued feare, mend and charge home, Or by the fires of heauen, Ile leaue the Foe, And make my Warres on you: Looke too't: Come on,
[510]
If you'l stand fast, wee'l beate them to their Wiues, As they vs to our Trenches followes. Another Alarum, and Martius followes them to gates, and is shut in. So, now the gates are ope: now proue good Seconds, 'Tis for the followers Fortune, widens them, Not for the flyers: Marke me, and do the like.
Enter the Gati. 1. Sol.
[515]

Foole‑hardinesse, not I.

2. Sol.

Nor I

1. Sol.

See they haue shut him in.

Alarum continues All.

To th'pot I warrant him.

Enter Titus Lartius Tit.

What is become of Martius?

All.
[520]

Slaine (Sir) doubtlesse.

1. Sol. Following the Flyers at the very heeles, With them he enters: who vpon the sodaine Clapt to their Gates, he is himselfe alone, To answer all the City. Lar.
[525]
Oh Noble Fellow! Who sensibly out‑dares his sencelesse Sword, And when it bowes, stand'st vp: Thou art left Martius, A Carbuncle intire: as big as thou art Weare not so rich a Iewell. Thou was't a Souldier
[530]
Euen to Calues wish, not fierce and terrible Onely in strokes, but with thy grim lookes, and The Thunder‑like percussion of thy sounds Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the World Were Feauorous, and did tremble.
Enter Martius bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy. 1. Sol.
[535]

Looke Sir.

Lar. O 'tis Martius. Let's fetch him off, or make remaine alike. They fight, and all enter the City.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="4" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 4]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with Drumme and Co­
      <lb/>lours, with Captaines and Souldiers, as
      <lb/>before the City Corialus: to them
      <lb/>a Messenger.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Martius.</speaker>
      <l n="462">Yonder comes Newes:</l>
      <l n="463">A Wager they haue met.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lar.</speaker>
      <p n="464">My horse to yours, no.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <p n="465">Tis done.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lart.</speaker>
      <p n="466">Agreed.</p>
   </sp>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0623-0.jpg" n="5"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <p n="467">Say, ha's our Generall met the Enemy?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-mes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mess.</speaker>
      <p n="468">They lye in view, but haue not spoke as yet.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lart.</speaker>
      <p n="469">So, the good Horse is mine.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mart.</speaker>
      <p n="470">Ile buy him of you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lart.</speaker>
      <l n="471">No, Ile nor sel, nor giue him: Lend you him I will</l>
      <l n="472">For halfe a hundred yeares: Summon the Towne.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <p n="473">How farre off lie these Armies?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-mes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mess.</speaker>
      <p n="474">Within this mile and halfe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <l n="475">Then shall we heare their Larum, &amp; they Ours.</l>
      <l n="476">Now Mars, I prythee make vs quicke in worke,</l>
      <l n="477">That we with smoaking swords may march from hence</l>
      <l n="478">To helpe our fielded Friends. Come, blow thy blast.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="mixed">They Sound a Parley: Enter two Senators with others on
      <lb/>the Walles of Corialus.</stage>
      <l n="479">
         <hi rend="italic">Tullus Auffidious</hi>, is he within your Walles?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sen.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1. Senat.</speaker>
      <l n="480">No, nor a man that feares you lesse then he,</l>
      <l n="481">That's lesser then a little:</l>
      <stage rend="italic inline" type="business">Drum a farre off.</stage>
      <l n="482">Hearke, our Drummes</l>
      <l n="483">Are bringing forth our youth: Wee'l breake our Walles</l>
      <l n="484">Rather then they shall pound vs vp our Gates,</l>
      <l n="485">Which yet seeme shut, we haue but pin'd with Rushes,</l>
      <l n="486">They'le open of themselues. Harke you, farre off</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Alarum farre off.</stage>
      <l n="487">There is<hi rend="italic">Auffidious</hi>. List what worke he makes</l>
      <l n="488">Among'st your clouen Army.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mart.</speaker>
      <p n="489">Oh they are at it.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lart.</speaker>
      <l n="490">Their noise be our instruction. Ladders hoa.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the Army of the Volces.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <l n="491">They feare vs not, but issue forth their Citie.</l>
      <l n="492">Now put your Shields before your hearts, and fight</l>
      <l n="493">With hearts more proofe then Shields.</l>
      <l n="494">Aduance braue<hi rend="italic">Titus</hi>,</l>
      <l n="495">They do disdaine vs much beyond our Thoughts,</l>
      <l n="496">which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on my fellows</l>
      <l n="497">He that retires, Ile take him for a<hi rend="italic">Volce</hi>,</l>
      <l n="498">And he shall feele mine edge.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="business">Alarum, the Romans are beat back to their Trenches</stage>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Martius Cursing.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <l n="499">All the contagion of the South, light on you,</l>
      <l n="500">You Shames of Rome: you Heard of Byles and Plagues</l>
      <l n="501">Plaister you o're, that you may be abhorr'd</l>
      <l n="502">Farther then seene, and one infect another</l>
      <l n="503">Against the Winde a mile: you soules of Geese,</l>
      <l n="504">That beare the shapes of men, how haue you run</l>
      <l n="505">From Slaues, that Apes would beate;<hi rend="italic">Pluto</hi>and Hell,</l>
      <l n="506">All hurt behinde, backes red, and faces pale</l>
      <l n="507">With flight and agued feare, mend and charge home,</l>
      <l n="508">Or by the fires of heauen, Ile leaue the Foe,</l>
      <l n="509">And make my Warres on you: Looke too't: Come on,</l>
      <l n="510">If you'l stand fast, wee'l beate them to their Wiues,</l>
      <l n="511">As they vs to our Trenches followes.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="business">Another Alarum, and Martius followes them to
      <lb/>gates, and is shut in.</stage>
      <l n="512">So, now the gates are ope: now proue good Seconds,</l>
      <l n="513">'Tis for the followers Fortune, widens them,</l>
      <l n="514">Not for the flyers: Marke me, and do the like.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the Gati.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sol.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1. Sol.</speaker>
      <p n="515">Foole‑hardinesse, not I.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sol.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">2. Sol.</speaker>
      <p n="516">Nor I</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sol.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1. Sol.</speaker>
      <p n="517">See they haue shut him in.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic inline" type="business">Alarum continues</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-all">
      <speaker rend="italic">All.</speaker>
      <p n="518">To th'pot I warrant him.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic inline" type="entrance">Enter Titus Lartius</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tit.</speaker>
      <p n="519">What is become of<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-all">
      <speaker rend="italic">All.</speaker>
      <p n="520">Slaine (Sir) doubtlesse.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sol.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1. Sol.</speaker>
      <l n="521">Following the Flyers at the very heeles,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="522">With them he enters: who vpon the sodaine</l>
      <l n="523">Clapt to their Gates, he is himselfe alone,</l>
      <l n="524">To answer all the City.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lar.</speaker>
      <l n="525">Oh Noble Fellow!</l>
      <l n="526">Who sensibly out‑dares his sencelesse Sword,</l>
      <l n="527">And when it bowes, stand'st vp: Thou art left<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>,</l>
      <l n="528">A Carbuncle intire: as big as thou art</l>
      <l n="529">Weare not so rich a Iewell. Thou was't a Souldier</l>
      <l n="530">Euen to<hi rend="italic">Calues</hi>wish, not fierce and terrible</l>
      <l n="531">Onely in strokes, but with thy grim lookes, and</l>
      <l n="532">The Thunder‑like percussion of thy sounds</l>
      <l n="533">Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the World</l>
      <l n="534">Were Feauorous, and did tremble.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Martius bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sol.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1. Sol.</speaker>
      <p n="535">Looke Sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-lar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lar.</speaker>
      <l n="536">O 'tis Martius.</l>
      <l n="537">Let's fetch him off, or make remaine alike.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">They fight, and all enter the City.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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