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: aa4v - Tragedies, p. 8

Left Column


The Tragedie of Coriolanus.
[810]
As often as we eate. By th'Elements, If ere againe I meet him beard to beard, He's mine, or I am his: Mine Emulation Hath not that Honor in't it had: For where I thought to crush him in an equall Force,
[815]
True Sword to Sword: Ile potche at him some way, Or Wrath, or Craft may get him.
Sol.

He's the diuell.

Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: my valors poison'd, With onely suff'ring staine by him: for him
[820]
Shall flye out of it selfe, nor sleepe, nor sanctuary, Being naked, sicke; nor Phane, nor Capitoll, The Prayers of Priests, nor times of Sacrifice: Embarquements all of Fury, shall lift vp Their rotten Priuiledge, and Custome 'gainst
[825]
My hate to Martius. Where I finde him, were it At home, vpon my Brothers Guard, euen there Against the hospitable Canon, would I Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' Citie, Learne how 'tis held, and what they are that must
[830]
Be Hostages for Rome.
Soul.

Will not you go?

Auf. I am attended at the Cyprus groue. I pray you ('Tis South the City Mils) bring me word thither How the world goes: that to the pace of it
[835]
I may spurre on my iourney.
Soul.

I shall sir.

Actus Secundus. [Act 2, Scene 1] Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius & Brutus. Men.

The Agurer tels me, wee shall haue Newes to

night.

Bru.

Good or bad?

Men.
[840]

Not according to the prayer of the people, for

they loue not Martius.

Sicin.

Nature teaches Beasts to know their Friends.

Men.

Pray you, who does the Wolfe loue?

Sicin.

The Lambe.

Men.
[845]

I, to deuour him, as the hungry Plebeians would

the Noble Martius.

Bru.

He's a Lambe indeed, that baes like a Beare.

Men.

Hee's a Beare indeede, that liues like a Lambe.

You two are old men, tell me one thing that I shall aske

[850]

you.

Both.

Well sir.

Men.

In what enormity is Martius poore in, that you

two haue not in abundance?

Bru.

He's poore in no one fault, but stor'd withal.

Sicin.
[855]

Especially in Pride.

Bru.

And topping all others in boasting.

Men.

This is strange now: Do you two know, how

you are censured heere in the City, I mean of vs a'th'right

hand File, do you?

Both.
[860]

Why? how are we censur'd?

Men.

Because you talke of Pride now, will you not

be angry.

Both.

Well, well sir, well.

Men.

Why 'tis no great matter: for a very little theefe

[865]

of Occasion, will rob you of a great deale of Patience:

Image


[full image]

Right Column


Giue your dispositions the reines, and bee angry at your

pleasures (at the least) if you take it as a pleasure to you, in

being so: you blame Martius for being proud.

Brut.

We do it not alone, sir.

Men.

I know you can doe very little alone, for your

[870]

helpes are many, or else your actions would growe won­

drous single: your abilities are to Infant‑like, for doing

much alone. You talke of Pride: Oh, that you could turn

your eyes toward the Napes of your neckes, and make

but an Interiour suruey of your good selues. Oh that you

[875]

could.

Both.

What then sir?

Men.

Why then you should discouer a brace of vn­

meriting, proud, violent, testie Magistrates (alias Fooles)

as any in Rome.

Sicin.
[880]

Menenius, you are knowne well enough too.

Men.

I am knowne to be a humorous Patritian, and

one that loues a cup of hot Wine, with not a drop of alay­

ing Tiber in't: Said, to be something imperfect in fauou­

ring the first complaint, hasty and Tinder‑like vppon, to

[885]

triuiall motion: One, that conuerses more with the But­

tocke of the night, then with the forhead of the morning.

What I think, I vtter, and spend my malice in my breath.

Meeting two such Weales men as you are (I cannot call

you Licurgusses,) if the drinke you giue me, touch my Pa­

[890]

lat aduersly, I make a crooked face at it, I can say, your

Worshippes haue deliuer'd the matter well, when I finde

the Asse in compound, with the Maior part of your sylla­

bles. And though I must be content to beare with those,

that say you are reuerend graue men, yet they lye deadly,

[895]

that tell you haue good faces, if you see this in the Map

of my Microcosme, followes it that I am knowne well e­

nough too? What harme can your beesome Conspectui­

ties gleane out of this Charracter, if I be knowne well e­

nough too.

Bru.
[900]

Come sir come, we know you well enough.

Menen.

You know neither mee, your selues, nor any

thing: you are ambitious, for poore knaues cappes and

legges: you weare out a good wholesome Forenoone, in

hearing a cause betweene an Orendge wife, and a Forset‑

[905]

seller, and then reiourne the Controuersie of three‑pence to a

second day of Audience. When you are hearing a

matter betweene party and party, if you chaunce to bee

pinch'd with the Collike, you make faces like Mum­

mers, set vp the bloodie Flagge against all Patience, and

[910]

in roaring for a Chamber‑pot, dismisse the Controuersie

bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing: All the

peace you make in their Cause, is calling both the parties

Knaues. You are a payre of strange ones.

Bru.

Come, come, you are well vnderstood to bee a

[915]

perfecter gyber for the Table, then a necessary Bencher in

the Capitoll.

Men.

Our very Priests must become Mockers, if they

shall encounter such ridiculous Subiects as you are, when

you speake best vnto the purpose. It is not woorth the

[920]

wagging of your Beards, and your Beards deserue not so

honourable a graue, as to stuffe a Botchers Cushion, or to

be intomb'd in an Asses Packe‑saddle; yet you must bee

saying, Martius is proud: who in a cheape estimation, is

worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion, though per­

[925]

aduenture some of the best of 'em were hereditarie hang­

men. Godden to your Worships, more of your conuer­

sation would infect my Braine, being the Heardsmen of

the Beastly Plebeans. I will be bold to take my leaue of

you.

Bru. and Scic. Aside. Enter

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Actus Secundus. [Act 2, Scene 1] Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius & Brutus. Men.

The Agurer tels me, wee shall haue Newes to

night.

Bru.

Good or bad?

Men.
[840]

Not according to the prayer of the people, for

they loue not Martius.

Sicin.

Nature teaches Beasts to know their Friends.

Men.

Pray you, who does the Wolfe loue?

Sicin.

The Lambe.

Men.
[845]

I, to deuour him, as the hungry Plebeians would

the Noble Martius.

Bru.

He's a Lambe indeed, that baes like a Beare.

Men.

Hee's a Beare indeede, that liues like a Lambe.

You two are old men, tell me one thing that I shall aske

[850]

you.

Both.

Well sir.

Men.

In what enormity is Martius poore in, that you

two haue not in abundance?

Bru.

He's poore in no one fault, but stor'd withal.

Sicin.
[855]

Especially in Pride.

Bru.

And topping all others in boasting.

Men.

This is strange now: Do you two know, how

you are censured heere in the City, I mean of vs a'th'right

hand File, do you?

Both.
[860]

Why? how are we censur'd?

Men.

Because you talke of Pride now, will you not

be angry.

Both.

Well, well sir, well.

Men.

Why 'tis no great matter: for a very little theefe

[865]

of Occasion, will rob you of a great deale of Patience: Giue your dispositions the reines, and bee angry at your

pleasures (at the least) if you take it as a pleasure to you, in

being so: you blame Martius for being proud.

Brut.

We do it not alone, sir.

Men.

I know you can doe very little alone, for your

[870]

helpes are many, or else your actions would growe won­

drous single: your abilities are to Infant‑like, for doing

much alone. You talke of Pride: Oh, that you could turn

your eyes toward the Napes of your neckes, and make

but an Interiour suruey of your good selues. Oh that you

[875]

could.

Both.

What then sir?

Men.

Why then you should discouer a brace of vn­

meriting, proud, violent, testie Magistrates (alias Fooles)

as any in Rome.

Sicin.
[880]

Menenius, you are knowne well enough too.

Men.

I am knowne to be a humorous Patritian, and

one that loues a cup of hot Wine, with not a drop of alay­

ing Tiber in't: Said, to be something imperfect in fauou­

ring the first complaint, hasty and Tinder‑like vppon, to

[885]

triuiall motion: One, that conuerses more with the But­

tocke of the night, then with the forhead of the morning.

What I think, I vtter, and spend my malice in my breath.

Meeting two such Weales men as you are (I cannot call

you Licurgusses,) if the drinke you giue me, touch my Pa­

[890]

lat aduersly, I make a crooked face at it, I can say, your

Worshippes haue deliuer'd the matter well, when I finde

the Asse in compound, with the Maior part of your sylla­

bles. And though I must be content to beare with those,

that say you are reuerend graue men, yet they lye deadly,

[895]

that tell you haue good faces, if you see this in the Map

of my Microcosme, followes it that I am knowne well e­

nough too? What harme can your beesome Conspectui­

ties gleane out of this Charracter, if I be knowne well e­

nough too.

Bru.
[900]

Come sir come, we know you well enough.

Menen.

You know neither mee, your selues, nor any

thing: you are ambitious, for poore knaues cappes and

legges: you weare out a good wholesome Forenoone, in

hearing a cause betweene an Orendge wife, and a Forset‑

[905]

seller, and then reiourne the Controuersie of three‑pence to a

second day of Audience. When you are hearing a

matter betweene party and party, if you chaunce to bee

pinch'd with the Collike, you make faces like Mum­

mers, set vp the bloodie Flagge against all Patience, and

[910]

in roaring for a Chamber‑pot, dismisse the Controuersie

bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing: All the

peace you make in their Cause, is calling both the parties

Knaues. You are a payre of strange ones.

Bru.

Come, come, you are well vnderstood to bee a

[915]

perfecter gyber for the Table, then a necessary Bencher in

the Capitoll.

Men.

Our very Priests must become Mockers, if they

shall encounter such ridiculous Subiects as you are, when

you speake best vnto the purpose. It is not woorth the

[920]

wagging of your Beards, and your Beards deserue not so

honourable a graue, as to stuffe a Botchers Cushion, or to

be intomb'd in an Asses Packe‑saddle; yet you must bee

saying, Martius is proud: who in a cheape estimation, is

worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion, though per­

[925]

aduenture some of the best of 'em were hereditarie hang­

men. Godden to your Worships, more of your conuer­

sation would infect my Braine, being the Heardsmen of

the Beastly Plebeans. I will be bold to take my leaue of

you.

Bru. and Scic. Aside. Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria.

How now (my as faire as Noble) Ladyes, and the Moone

were shee Earthly, no Nobler; whither doe you follow

your Eyes so fast?

Volum.
[930]

Honorable Menenius, my Boy Martius appro­

ches: for the loue of Iuno let's goe.

Menen.

Ha? Martius comming home?

Volum.

I, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous

approbation.

Menen.
[935]

Take my Cappe Iupiter, and I thanke thee:

hoo, Martius comming home?

2. Ladies.

Nay, 'tis true.

Volum.

Looke, here's a Letter from him, the State hath

another, his Wife another, and (I thinke) there's one at

[940]

home for you.

Menen. I will make my very house reele to night: A Letter for me? Virgil.

Yes certaine, there's a Letter for you, I saw't.

Menen.

A Letter for me? it giues me an Estate of se­

[945]

uen yeeres health; in which time, I will make a Lippe at

the Physician: The most soueraigne Prescription in Galen,

is but Emperickqutique; and to this Preseruatiue, of no

better report then a Horse‑drench. Is he not wounded?

he was wont to come home wounded?

Virgil.
[950]

Oh no, no, no.

Volum.

Oh, he is wounded, I thanke the Gods for't.

Menen.

So doe I too, if it be not too much: brings a

Victorie in his Pocket? the wounds become him.

Volum.

On's Browes: Menenius, hee comes the third

[955]

time home with the Oaken Garland.

Menen.

Ha's he disciplin'd Auffidius soundly?

Volum.

Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but

Auffidius got off.

Menen.

And 'twas time for him too, Ile warrant him

[960]

that: and he had stay'd by him, I would not haue been so

fiddious'd, for all the Chests in Carioles, and the Gold

that's in them. Is the Senate possest of this?

Volum.

Good Ladies let's goe. Yes, yes, yes: The

Senate ha's Letters from the Generall, wherein hee giues

[965]

my Sonne the whole Name of the Warre: he hath in this

action out‑done his former deeds doubly.

Valer.

In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.

Menen.

Wondrous: I, I warrant you, and not with­

out his true purchasing.

Virgil.
[970]

The Gods graunt them true.

Volum.

True? pow waw.

Mene.

True? Ile be sworne they are true: where is

hee wounded, God saue your good Worships? Martius

is comming home: hee ha's more cause to be prowd:

[975]

where is he wounded?

Volum.

Ith' Shoulder, and ith' left Arme: there will be

large Cicatrices to shew the People, when hee shall stand

for his place: he receiued in the repulse of Tarquin seuen

hurts ith' Body.

Mene.
[980]

One ith' Neck, and two ith' Thigh, there's nine

that I know.

Volum.

Hee had, before this last Expedition, twentie

fiue Wounds vpon him.

Mene.

Now it's twentie seuen; euery gash was an

[985]

Enemies Graue. Hearke, the Trumpets.

A showt, and flourish. Volum. These are the Vshers of Martius: Before him, hee carryes Noyse; And behinde him, hee leaues Teares: Death, that darke Spirit, in's neruie Arme doth lye,
[990]
Which being aduanc'd, declines, and then men dye.
A Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter Cominius the Generall, and Titus Latius: be­ tweene them Coriolanus, crown'd with an Oaken Garland, with Captaines and Soul­ diers, and a Herauld. Herauld. Know Rome, that all alone Martius did fight Within Corioles Gates: where he hath wonne, With Fame, a Name to Martius Caius: These in honor followes Martius Caius Coriolanus.
[995]
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.
Sound. Flourish. All.

Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.

Coriol.

No more of this, it does offend my heart: pray

now no more.

Com.

Looke, Sir, your Mother.

Coriol.
[1000]

Oh! you haue, I know, petition'd all the Gods

for my prosperitie.

Kneeles. Volum. Nay, my good Souldier, vp: My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, And by deed‑atchieuing Honor newly nam'd,
[1005]
What is it ( Coriolanus) must I call thee? But oh, thy Wife.
Corio. My gracious silence, hayle: Would'st thou haue laugh'd, had I come Coffin'd home, That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah my deare,
[1010]
Such eyes the Widowes in Carioles were, And Mothers that lacke Sonnes.
Mene.

Now the Gods Crowne thee.

Com.

And liue you yet? Oh my sweet Lady, pardon.

Volum. I know not where to turne.
[1015]
Oh welcome home: and welcome Generall, And y'are welcome all.
Mene. A hundred thousand Welcomes: I could weepe, and I could laugh, I am light, and heauie; welcome:
[1020]
A Curse begin at very root on's heart, That is not glad to see thee. You are three, that Rome should dote on: Yet by the faith of men, we haue Some old Crab‑trees here at home,
[1025]
That will not be grafted to your Rallish. Yet welcome Warriors: Wee call a Nettle, but a Nettle; And the faults of fooles, but folly.
Com.

Euer right.

Cor.
[1030]

Menenius, euer, euer.

Herauld.

Giue way there, and goe on.

Cor. Your Hand, and yours? Ere in our owne house I doe shade my Head, The good Patricians must be visited,
[1035]
From whom I haue receiu'd not onely greetings, But with them, change of Honors.
Volum. I haue liued, To see inherited my very Wishes, And the Buildings of my Fancie:
[1040]
Onely there's one thing wanting, Which (I doubt not) but our Rome Will cast vpon thee.
Cor. Know, good Mother, I had rather be their seruant in my way,
[1045]
Then sway with them in theirs.
Com.

On, to the Capitall.

Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt. in State, as before. Enter Brutus and Scicinius Bru. All tongues speake of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him. Your pratling Nurse Into a rapture lets her Baby crie,
[1050]
While she chats him: the Kitchin Malkin pinnes Her richest Lockram 'bout her reechie necke, Clambring the Walls to eye him: Stalls, Bulkes, Windowes, are smother'd vp, Leades fill'd, and Ridges hors'd
[1055]
With variable Complexions; all agreeing In earnestnesse to see him: seld‑showne Flamins Doe presse among the popular Throngs, and puffe To winne a vulgar station: our veyl'd Dames Commit the Warre of White and Damaske
[1060]
In their nicely gawded Cheekes, toth' wanton spoyle Of Phoebus burning Kisses: such a poother, As if that whatsoeuer God, who leades him, Were slyly crept into his humane powers, And gaue him gracefull posture.
Scicin.
[1065]

On the suddaine, I warrant him Consull.

Brutus.

Then our Office may, during his power, goe

sleepe.

Scicin. He cannot temp'rately transport his Honors, From where he should begin, and end, but will
[1070]
Lose those he ha wonne.
Brutus.

In that there's comfort.

Scici. Doubt not, The Commoners, for whom we stand, but they Vpon their ancient mallice, will forget
[1075]
With the least cause, these his new Honors, Which that he will giue them, make I as little question, As he is prowd to doo't.
Brutus. I heard him sweare, Were he to stand for Consull, neuer would he
[1080]
Appeare i'th'Market place, nor on him put The Naples Vesture of Humilitie, Nor shewing (as the manner is) his Wounds Toth' People, begge their stinking Breaths.
Scicin.

'Tis right.

Brutus.
[1085]
It was his word: Oh he would misse it, rather then carry it, But by the suite of the Gentry to him, And the desire of the Nobles.
Scicin.

I wish no better, then haue him hold that pur­

[1090]

pose, and to put it in execution.

Brutus.

'Tis most like he will.

Scicin.

It shall be to him then, as our good wills; a

sure destruction.

Brutus. So it must fall out
[1095]
To him, or our Authorities, for an end. We must suggest the People, in what hatred He still hath held them: that to's power he would Haue made them Mules, silenc'd their Pleaders, And dispropertied their Freedomes; holding them,
[1100]
In humane Action, and Capacitie, Of no more Soule, nor fitnesse for the World, Then Cammels in their Warre, who haue their Prouand Onely for bearing Burthens, and sore blowes For sinking vnder them.
Scicin.
[1105]
This (as you say) suggested, At some time, when his soaring Insolence Shall teach the People, which time shall not want, If he be put vpon't, and that's as easie, As to set Dogges on Sheepe, will be his fire
[1110]
To kindle their dry Stubble: and their Blaze Shall darken him for euer.
Enter a Messenger. Brutus.

What's the matter?

Mess. You are sent for to the Capitoll: 'Tis thought, that Martius shall be Consull:
[1115]
I haue seene the dumbe men throng to see him, And the blind to heare him speak: Matrons flong Gloues, Ladies and Maids their Scarffes, and Handkerchers, Vpon him as he pass'd: the Nobles bended As to Ioues Statue, and the Commons made
[1120]
A Shower, and Thunder, with their Caps, and Showts: I neuer saw the like.
Brutus. Let's to the Capitoll, And carry with vs Eares and Eyes for th'time, But Hearts for the euent. Scicin.
[1125]

Haue with you.

Exeunt.
 

Download the digital text of the play

        
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<div type="scene" n="1" rend="notPresent">
   <head rend="italic center">Actus Secundus.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 1]</head>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the
      <lb/>people, Sicinius &amp; Brutus.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="837">The Agurer tels me, wee shall haue Newes to
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   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
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      <p n="839">Good or bad?</p>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Sicin.</speaker>
      <p n="842">Nature teaches Beasts to know their Friends.</p>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="843">Pray you, who does the Wolfe loue?</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicin.</speaker>
      <p n="844">The Lambe.</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="845">I, to deuour him, as the hungry Plebeians would
      <lb n="846"/>the Noble<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bru.</speaker>
      <p n="847">He's a Lambe indeed, that baes like a Beare.</p>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="848">Hee's a Beare indeede, that liues like a Lambe.
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   <sp who="#F-cor-bot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Both.</speaker>
      <p n="851">Well sir.</p>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="852">In what enormity is<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>poore in, that you
      <lb n="853"/>two haue not in abundance?</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bru.</speaker>
      <p n="854">He's poore in no one fault, but stor'd withal.</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicin.</speaker>
      <p n="855">Especially in Pride.</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bru.</speaker>
      <p n="856">And topping all others in boasting.</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="857">This is strange now: Do you two know, how
      <lb n="858"/>you are censured heere in the City, I mean of vs a'th'right
      <lb n="859"/>hand File, do you?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Both.</speaker>
      <p n="860">Why? how are we censur'd?</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="861">Because you talke of Pride now, will you not
      <lb n="862"/>be angry.</p>
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   <sp who="#F-cor-bot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Both.</speaker>
      <p n="863">Well, well sir, well.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="864">Why 'tis no great matter: for a very little theefe
      <lb n="865"/>of Occasion, will rob you of a great deale of Patience:<cb n="2"/>Giue your dispositions the reines, and bee angry at your
      <lb n="866"/>pleasures (at the least) if you take it as a pleasure to you, in
      <lb n="867"/>being so: you blame<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>for being proud.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brut.</speaker>
      <p n="868">We do it not alone, sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="869">I know you can doe very little alone, for your
      <lb n="870"/>helpes are many, or else your actions would growe won­
      <lb n="871"/>drous single: your abilities are to Infant‑like, for doing
      <lb n="872"/>much alone. You talke of Pride: Oh, that you could turn
      <lb n="873"/>your eyes toward the Napes of your neckes, and make
      <lb n="874"/>but an Interiour suruey of your good selues. Oh that you
      <lb n="875"/>could.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Both.</speaker>
      <p n="876">What then sir?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="877">Why then you should discouer a brace of vn­
      <lb n="878"/>meriting, proud, violent, testie Magistrates (alias Fooles)
      <lb n="879"/>as any in Rome.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicin.</speaker>
      <p n="880">
         <hi rend="italic">Menenius</hi>, you are knowne well enough too.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="881">I am knowne to be a humorous<hi rend="italic">Patritian</hi>, and
      <lb n="882"/>one that loues a cup of hot Wine, with not a drop of alay­
      <lb n="883"/>ing Tiber in't: Said, to be something imperfect in fauou­
      <lb n="884"/>ring the first complaint, hasty and Tinder‑like vppon, to
      <lb n="885"/>triuiall motion: One, that conuerses more with the But­
      <lb n="886"/>tocke of the night, then with the forhead of the morning.
      <lb n="887"/>What I think, I vtter, and spend my malice in my breath.
      <lb n="888"/>Meeting two such Weales men as you are (I cannot call
      <lb n="889"/>you<hi rend="italic">Licurgusses</hi>,) if the drinke you giue me, touch my Pa­
      <lb n="890"/>lat aduersly, I make a crooked face at it, I can say, your
      <lb n="891"/>Worshippes haue deliuer'd the matter well, when I finde
      <lb n="892"/>the Asse in compound, with the Maior part of your sylla­
      <lb n="893"/>bles. And though I must be content to beare with those,
      <lb n="894"/>that say you are reuerend graue men, yet they lye deadly,
      <lb n="895"/>that tell you haue good faces, if you see this in the Map
      <lb n="896"/>of my Microcosme, followes it that I am knowne well e­
      <lb n="897"/>nough too? What harme can your beesome Conspectui­
      <lb n="898"/>ties gleane out of this Charracter, if I be knowne well e­
      <lb n="899"/>nough too.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bru.</speaker>
      <p n="900">Come sir come, we know you well enough.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="901">You know neither mee, your selues, nor any
      <lb n="902"/>thing: you are ambitious, for poore knaues cappes and
      <lb n="903"/>legges: you weare out a good wholesome Forenoone, in
      <lb n="904"/>hearing a cause betweene an Orendge wife, and a Forset‑
      <lb n="905"/>seller, and then reiourne the Controuersie of three‑pence to a
      <lb n="906"/>second day of Audience. When you are hearing a
      <lb n="907"/>matter betweene party and party, if you chaunce to bee
      <lb n="908"/>pinch'd with the Collike, you make faces like Mum­
      <lb n="909"/>mers, set vp the bloodie Flagge against all Patience, and
      <lb n="910"/>in roaring for a Chamber‑pot, dismisse the Controuersie
      <lb n="911"/>bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing: All the
      <lb n="912"/>peace you make in their Cause, is calling both the parties
      <lb n="913"/>Knaues. You are a payre of strange ones.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bru.</speaker>
      <p n="914">Come, come, you are well vnderstood to bee a
      <lb n="915"/>perfecter gyber for the Table, then a necessary Bencher in
      <lb n="916"/>the Capitoll.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Men.</speaker>
      <p n="917">Our very Priests must become Mockers, if they
      <lb n="918"/>shall encounter such ridiculous Subiects as you are, when
      <lb n="919"/>you speake best vnto the purpose. It is not woorth the
      <lb n="920"/>wagging of your Beards, and your Beards deserue not so
      <lb n="921"/>honourable a graue, as to stuffe a Botchers Cushion, or to
      <lb n="922"/>be intomb'd in an Asses Packe‑saddle; yet you must bee
      <lb n="923"/>saying,<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>is proud: who in a cheape estimation, is
      <lb n="924"/>worth all your predecessors, since<hi rend="italic">Deucalion</hi>, though per­
      <lb n="925"/>aduenture some of the best of 'em were hereditarie hang­
      <lb n="926"/>men. Godden to your Worships, more of your conuer­
      <lb n="927"/>sation would infect my Braine, being the Heardsmen of
      <lb n="928"/>the Beastly Plebeans. I will be bold to take my leaue of
      <lb n="929"/>you.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="business">Bru. and Scic. Aside.</stage>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0627-0.jpg" n="9"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria.</stage>
   <p>How now (my as faire as Noble) Ladyes, and the Moone
      <lb/>were shee Earthly, no Nobler; whither doe you follow
      <lb/>your Eyes so fast?</p>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="930">Honorable<hi rend="italic">Menenius</hi>, my Boy<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>appro­
      <lb n="931"/>ches: for the loue of<hi rend="italic">Iuno</hi>let's goe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="932">Ha?<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>comming home?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="933">I, worthy<hi rend="italic">Menenius</hi>, and with most prosperous
      <lb n="934"/>approbation.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="935">Take my Cappe<hi rend="italic">Iupiter</hi>, and I thanke thee:
      <lb n="936"/>hoo,<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>comming home?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm #F-cor-vir">
      <speaker rend="italic">2. Ladies.</speaker>
      <p n="937">Nay, 'tis true.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="938">Looke, here's a Letter from him, the State hath
      <lb n="939"/>another, his Wife another, and (I thinke) there's one at
      <lb n="940"/>home for you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <l n="941">I will make my very house reele to night:</l>
      <l n="942">A Letter for me?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vir">
      <speaker rend="italic">Virgil.</speaker>
      <p n="943">Yes certaine, there's a Letter for you, I saw't.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="944">A Letter for me? it giues me an Estate of se­
      <lb n="945"/>uen yeeres health; in which time, I will make a Lippe at
      <lb n="946"/>the Physician: The most soueraigne Prescription in<hi rend="italic">Galen</hi>,
      <lb n="947"/>is but Emperickqutique; and to this Preseruatiue, of no
      <lb n="948"/>better report then a Horse‑drench. Is he not wounded?
      <lb n="949"/>he was wont to come home wounded?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vir">
      <speaker rend="italic">Virgil.</speaker>
      <p n="950">Oh no, no, no.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="951">Oh, he is wounded, I thanke the Gods for't.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="952">So doe I too, if it be not too much: brings a
      <lb n="953"/>Victorie in his Pocket? the wounds become him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="954">On's Browes:<hi rend="italic">Menenius</hi>, hee comes the third
      <lb n="955"/>time home with the Oaken Garland.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="956">Ha's he disciplin'd<hi rend="italic">Auffidius</hi>soundly?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="957">
         <hi rend="italic">Titus Lartius</hi>writes, they fought together, but
      <lb n="958"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Auffidius</hi>got off.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="959">And 'twas time for him too, Ile warrant him
      <lb n="960"/>that: and he had stay'd by him, I would not haue been so
      <lb n="961"/>fiddious'd, for all the Chests in Carioles, and the Gold
      <lb n="962"/>that's in them. Is the Senate possest of this?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="963">Good Ladies let's goe. Yes, yes, yes: The
      <lb n="964"/>Senate ha's Letters from the Generall, wherein hee giues
      <lb n="965"/>my Sonne the whole Name of the Warre: he hath in this
      <lb n="966"/>action out‑done his former deeds doubly.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-val">
      <speaker rend="italic">Valer.</speaker>
      <p n="967">In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Menen.</speaker>
      <p n="968">Wondrous: I, I warrant you, and not with­
      <lb n="969"/>out his true purchasing.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vir">
      <speaker rend="italic">Virgil.</speaker>
      <p n="970">The Gods graunt them true.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="971">True? pow waw.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mene.</speaker>
      <p n="972">True? Ile be sworne they are true: where is
      <lb n="973"/>hee wounded, God saue your good Worships?<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>
         
      <lb n="974"/>is comming home: hee ha's more cause to be prowd:
      <lb n="975"/>where is he wounded?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="976">Ith' Shoulder, and ith' left Arme: there will be
      <lb n="977"/>large Cicatrices to shew the People, when hee shall stand
      <lb n="978"/>for his place: he receiued in the repulse of<hi rend="italic">Tarquin</hi>seuen
      <lb n="979"/>hurts ith' Body.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mene.</speaker>
      <p n="980">One ith' Neck, and two ith' Thigh, there's nine
      <lb n="981"/>that I know.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <p n="982">Hee had, before this last Expedition, twentie
      <lb n="983"/>fiue Wounds vpon him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mene.</speaker>
      <p n="984">Now it's twentie seuen; euery gash was an
      <lb n="985"/>Enemies Graue. Hearke, the Trumpets.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="business">A showt, and flourish.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <l n="986">These are the Vshers of<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>:</l>
      <l n="987">Before him, hee carryes Noyse;</l>
      <l n="988">And behinde him, hee leaues Teares:</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="989">Death, that darke Spirit, in's neruie Arme doth lye,</l>
      <l n="990">Which being aduanc'd, declines, and then men dye.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic" type="business">A Sennet. Trumpets sound.</stage>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Cominius the Generall, and Titus Latius: be­
      <lb/>tweene them Coriolanus, crown'd with an Oaken
      <lb/>Garland, with Captaines and Soul­
      <lb/>diers, and a Herauld.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-her">
      <speaker rend="italic">Herauld.</speaker>
      <l n="991">Know Rome, that all alone<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>did fight</l>
      <l n="992">Within Corioles Gates: where he hath wonne,</l>
      <l n="993">With Fame, a Name to<hi rend="italic">Martius Caius:</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="994">These in honor followes<hi rend="italic">Martius Caius Coriolanus</hi>.</l>
      <l n="995">Welcome to Rome, renowned<hi rend="italic">Coriolanus</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Sound. Flourish.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-all">
      <speaker rend="italic">All.</speaker>
      <p n="996">Welcome to Rome, renowned<hi rend="italic">Coriolanus</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Coriol.</speaker>
      <p n="997">No more of this, it does offend my heart: pray
      <lb n="998"/>now no more.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-com">
      <speaker rend="italic">Com.</speaker>
      <p n="999">Looke, Sir, your Mother.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Coriol.</speaker>
      <p n="1000">Oh! you haue, I know, petition'd all the Gods
      <lb n="1001"/>for my prosperitie.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic inline" type="business">Kneeles.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <l n="1002">Nay, my good Souldier, vp:</l>
      <l n="1003">My gentle<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>, worthy<hi rend="italic">Caius</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1004">And by deed‑atchieuing Honor newly nam'd,</l>
      <l n="1005">What is it (<hi rend="italic">Coriolanus</hi>) must I call thee?</l>
      <l n="1006">But oh, thy Wife.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corio.</speaker>
      <l n="1007">My gracious silence, hayle:</l>
      <l n="1008">Would'st thou haue laugh'd, had I come Coffin'd home,</l>
      <l n="1009">That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah my deare,</l>
      <l n="1010">Such eyes the Widowes in Carioles were,</l>
      <l n="1011">And Mothers that lacke Sonnes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mene.</speaker>
      <p n="1012">Now the Gods Crowne thee.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-com">
      <speaker rend="italic">Com.</speaker>
      <p n="1013">And liue you yet? Oh my sweet Lady, pardon.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <l n="1014">I know not where to turne.</l>
      <l n="1015">Oh welcome home: and welcome Generall,</l>
      <l n="1016">And y'are welcome all.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-men">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mene.</speaker>
      <l n="1017">A hundred thousand Welcomes:</l>
      <l n="1018">I could weepe, and I could laugh,</l>
      <l n="1019">I am light, and heauie; welcome:</l>
      <l n="1020">A Curse begin at very root on's heart,</l>
      <l n="1021">That is not glad to see thee.</l>
      <l n="1022">You are three, that Rome should dote on:</l>
      <l n="1023">Yet by the faith of men, we haue</l>
      <l n="1024">Some old Crab‑trees here at home,</l>
      <l n="1025">That will not be grafted to your Rallish.</l>
      <l n="1026">Yet welcome Warriors:</l>
      <l n="1027">Wee call a Nettle, but a Nettle;</l>
      <l n="1028">And the faults of fooles, but folly.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-com">
      <speaker rend="italic">Com.</speaker>
      <p n="1029">Euer right.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
      <p n="1030">
         <hi rend="italic">Menenius</hi>, euer, euer.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-her">
      <speaker rend="italic">Herauld.</speaker>
      <p n="1031">Giue way there, and goe on.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
      <l n="1032">Your Hand, and yours?</l>
      <l n="1033">Ere in our owne house I doe shade my Head,</l>
      <l n="1034">The good Patricians must be visited,</l>
      <l n="1035">From whom I haue receiu'd not onely greetings,</l>
      <l n="1036">But with them, change of Honors.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-vlm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Volum.</speaker>
      <l n="1037">I haue liued,</l>
      <l n="1038">To see inherited my very Wishes,</l>
      <l n="1039">And the Buildings of my Fancie:</l>
      <l n="1040">Onely there's one thing wanting,</l>
      <l n="1041">Which (I doubt not) but our Rome</l>
      <l n="1042">Will cast vpon thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
      <l n="1043">Know, good Mother,</l>
      <l n="1044">I had rather be their seruant in my way,</l>
      <l n="1045">Then sway with them in theirs.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-com">
      <speaker rend="italic">Com.</speaker>
      <p n="1046">On, to the Capitall.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic inline" type="business">Flourish. Cornets.</stage>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt. in State, as before.</stage>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0628-0.jpg" n="10"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Enter Brutus and Scicinius</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bru.</speaker>
      <l n="1047">All tongues speake of him, and the bleared sights</l>
      <l n="1048">Are spectacled to see him. Your pratling Nurse</l>
      <l n="1049">Into a rapture lets her Baby crie,</l>
      <l n="1050">While she chats him: the Kitchin<hi rend="italic">Malkin</hi>pinnes</l>
      <l n="1051">Her richest Lockram 'bout her reechie necke,</l>
      <l n="1052">Clambring the Walls to eye him:</l>
      <l n="1053">Stalls, Bulkes, Windowes, are smother'd vp,</l>
      <l n="1054">Leades fill'd, and Ridges hors'd</l>
      <l n="1055">With variable Complexions; all agreeing</l>
      <l n="1056">In earnestnesse to see him: seld‑showne Flamins</l>
      <l n="1057">Doe presse among the popular Throngs, and puffe</l>
      <l n="1058">To winne a vulgar station: our veyl'd Dames</l>
      <l n="1059">Commit the Warre of White and Damaske</l>
      <l n="1060">In their nicely gawded Cheekes, toth' wanton spoyle</l>
      <l n="1061">Of<hi rend="italic">Phoebus</hi>burning Kisses: such a poother,</l>
      <l n="1062">As if that whatsoeuer God, who leades him,</l>
      <l n="1063">Were slyly crept into his humane powers,</l>
      <l n="1064">And gaue him gracefull posture.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <p n="1065">On the suddaine, I warrant him Consull.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <p n="1066">Then our Office may, during his power, goe
      <lb n="1067"/>sleepe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <l n="1068">He cannot temp'rately transport his Honors,</l>
      <l n="1069">From where he should begin, and end, but will</l>
      <l n="1070">Lose those he ha<gap extent="2"
              unit="chars"
              reason="illegible"
              agent="inkBlot"
              resp="#LMC"/>wonne.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <p n="1071">In that there's comfort.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scici.</speaker>
      <l n="1072">Doubt not,</l>
      <l n="1073">The Commoners, for whom we stand, but they</l>
      <l n="1074">Vpon their ancient mallice, will forget</l>
      <l n="1075">With the least cause, these his new Honors,</l>
      <l n="1076">Which that he will giue them, make I as little question,</l>
      <l n="1077">As he is prowd to doo't.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <l n="1078">I heard him sweare,</l>
      <l n="1079">Were he to stand for Consull, neuer would he</l>
      <l n="1080">Appeare i'th'Market place, nor on him put</l>
      <l n="1081">The Naples Vesture of Humilitie,</l>
      <l n="1082">Nor shewing (as the manner is) his Wounds</l>
      <l n="1083">Toth' People, begge their stinking Breaths.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <p n="1084">'Tis right.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <l n="1085">It was his word:</l>
      <l n="1086">Oh he would misse it, rather then carry it,</l>
      <l n="1087">But by the suite of the Gentry to him,</l>
      <l n="1088">And the desire of the Nobles.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <p n="1089">I wish no better, then haue him hold that pur­
      <lb n="1090"/>pose, and to put it in execution.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <p n="1091">'Tis most like he will.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <p n="1092">It shall be to him then, as our good wills; a
      <lb n="1093"/>sure destruction.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <l n="1094">So it must fall out</l>
      <l n="1095">To him, or our Authorities, for an end.</l>
      <l n="1096">We must suggest the People, in what hatred</l>
      <l n="1097">He still hath held them: that to's power he would</l>
      <l n="1098">Haue made them Mules, silenc'd their Pleaders,</l>
      <l n="1099">And dispropertied their Freedomes; holding them,</l>
      <l n="1100">In humane Action, and Capacitie,</l>
      <l n="1101">Of no more Soule, nor fitnesse for the World,</l>
      <l n="1102">Then Cammels in their Warre, who haue their Prouand</l>
      <l n="1103">Onely for bearing Burthens, and sore blowes</l>
      <l n="1104">For sinking vnder them.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <l n="1105">This (as you say) suggested,</l>
      <l n="1106">At some time, when his soaring Insolence</l>
      <l n="1107">Shall teach the People, which time shall not want,</l>
      <l n="1108">If he be put vpon't, and that's as easie,</l>
      <l n="1109">As to set Dogges on Sheepe, will be his fire</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1110">To kindle their dry Stubble: and their Blaze</l>
      <l n="1111">Shall darken him for euer.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter a Messenger.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <p n="1112">What's the matter?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-mes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mess.</speaker>
      <l n="1113">You are sent for to the Capitoll:</l>
      <l n="1114">'Tis thought, that<hi rend="italic">Martius</hi>shall be Consull:</l>
      <l n="1115">I haue seene the dumbe men throng to see him,</l>
      <l n="1116">And the blind to heare him speak: Matrons flong Gloues,</l>
      <l n="1117">Ladies and Maids their Scarffes, and Handkerchers,</l>
      <l n="1118">Vpon him as he pass'd: the Nobles bended</l>
      <l n="1119">As to<hi rend="italic">Ioues</hi>Statue, and the Commons made</l>
      <l n="1120">A Shower, and Thunder, with their Caps, and Showts:</l>
      <l n="1121">I neuer saw the like.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-bru">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brutus.</speaker>
      <l n="1122">Let's to the Capitoll,</l>
      <l n="1123">And carry with vs Eares and Eyes for th'time,</l>
      <l n="1124">But Hearts for the euent.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cor-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Scicin.</speaker>
      <p n="1125">Haue with you.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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