_Bru_. The Aediles! ho! let him be apprehended.
_Sic_. Go call the people; [_Exit Brutus_] _in whose name, myself_ Attach _thee_ [_thee_] as a traitorous INNOVATOR, A FOE to the PUBLIC WEAL. Obey, I charge thee, And follow to thine answer.
_Cor_. Hence, old goat!
_Senators and Patricians. We"ll surety him_.
_Cor_. Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones Out of thy garments.
_Sic_. Help, ye citizens.
[_Re-enter Brutus, with the Aediles, and a rabble of citizens._]
_Men_. _On both sides, more respect._
_Sic_. There"s HE that would _Take from you all your power_.
_Bru_. _Seize him, Aediles_.
_Cit_. _Down with him. Down with him_.
[_Several speak_.]
_Second Sen_. Weapons! Weapons! Weapons!
[_They all bustle about_ CORIOLa.n.u.s.]
Tribunes, patricians:--citizens:--what ho:-- Sicinius, Brutus:--Coriola.n.u.s:--citizens:--
_Cit_. _Peace!--Peace!--Peace!--stay!--hold!--peace!_
_Men_. _What is about to be? I am out of breath: Confusion"s near! I cannot speak_: you tribunes To the people.--_Coriola.n.u.s_, patience:-- Speak, good Sicinius.
_Sic_. Hear me, people;--_Peace_.
_Cit_. Let"s hear _our_ tribune:--Peace,--_Speak, speak, speak_.
_Sic_. _You are at point to lose your liberties_, Marcius _would have all from you_; Marcius Whom late you have named for consul.
_Men_. Fye, fye, fye.
That is the way to _kindle_, not to _quench_.
_Sen_. To _unbuild_ the _city and to lay all flat_.
_Sic_. What is the city, but _the people_.
_Cit_. TRUE, The _people are_ the city.
_Bru_. By the consent of ALL, we were established The _people"s_ magistrates.
_Cit_. You so remain.
_Men_. And so are like to do.
_Cor_. That is the way to lay the city flat, To bring the _roof_ to the _foundation_; And bury all which yet _distinctly ranges, In heaps and piles of ruin_.
_Sic_. _This deserves death._
_Bru_. Or let us stand to our authority, Or let us lose it:--
Truly, one hears the Revolutionary voices here. Observing the history which is in all men"s lives, "Figuring the nature of the times deceased, a man _may prophesy_," as it would seem, "with a _near aim_,"--quite near--"of the _main_ chance of things, as yet, not come to life, which in their weak beginnings lie intreasured. Such things become the hatch and brood of _time_," this Poet says; but art, it seems, antic.i.p.ates that process. There appears to be more of the future here, than of the times deceased.
_Bru_. We do here p.r.o.nounce Upon the _part of the people, in whose power We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy_ Of _present death._
_Sic_. Therefore, lay hold of him; Bear him to the rook Tarpeian, and from thence Into destruction cast him.
_Bru_. aediles, seize him.
_Cit_. Yield, Marcius, yield.
_Men_. Hear me, one word.
Beseech you, tribunes, hear me, but a word.
_aediles_. Peace, peace.
_Men_. Be that you _seem, truly your country"s friend_, And _temperately_ proceed to what you would Thus _violently_ redress.
_Bru_. Sir, those _cold ways_ That seem _like prudent helps_, are very _poisonous_.
Where the _disease is violent_.--Lay hands upon him, And bear him to the rock.
_Cor_. No: I"ll die here. [_Drawing his sword_.]
There"s some among you have beheld me fighting; Come _try upon yourselves_, what you have _seen_ me.
_Men_. DOWN with THAT SWORD; tribunes, withdraw awhile.
_Bru_. Lay hands upon him.
_Men_. Help, help, MARCIUS, help!
You that be n.o.bLE, help him, young and old.
_Cit_. DOWN WITH HIM! DOWN WITH HIM!
"In this _mutiny, the Tribunes, the aediles, and the People, are all_ BEAT IN," so the stage direction informs us, which appears a little singular, considering there is but _one sword_ drawn, and the victorious faction does not appear to have the advantage in numbers.
It is, however, only a temporary success, as the victors seem to be aware.
_Men_. Go, get you to _your houses, be gone away_, All will be nought else.
_Second Sen_. Get you gone.
_Cor_. _Stand fast, We have as many friends as enemies._