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2 Serv. 'Tis so: and as wars, in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher; so it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.

1 Serv. Ay, and it makes men hate one another. 3 Serv. Reason; because they then less need one another. The wars, for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volcians.-They are rising, they are rising.

All. In, in, in, in.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Rome. A Publick Place.

Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.

Sic. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; His remedies are tame i' the present peace And quietness o' the people, which before

Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends Blush, that the world goes well; who rather had, Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold Dissentious numbers pestering streets, than see Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going About their functions friendly.

Enter MENENIUS.

Bru. We stood to't in good time. Is this Mene

nius?

Sic. "Tis he, 'tis he: O, he is grown most kind Of late. Hail, sir!

Men.

Hail to you both!

Sic. Your Coriolanus, sir, is not much miss'd,

But with his friends: the common-wealth doth stand And so would do, were he more angry at it.

Men. All's well; and might have been much better,

if

He could have temporiz'd.

Sic.

Where is he, hear you?

Men. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four Citizens.

Cit. The gods preserve you both!

Sic.

Good-e'en, our neighbours.

Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all.

1 Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our

knees,

Are bound to pray

for you
both.

Sic.

Live, and thrive!

Bru. Farewell, kind neighbours: We wish'd Co

riolanus

Had lov'd you as we did.

Cit.

Now the gods keep you!

Both Tri. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Citizens.

Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,

Than when these fellows ran about the streets,
Crying, Confusion.

Bru.

Caius Marcius was

A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,

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Sic. We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

Bru. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without him.

Ed.

Enter Edile.

Worthy tribunes,

There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
Reports, the Volces with two several powers
Are enter'd in the Roman territories;

And with the deepest malice of the war
Destroy what lies before them.

Men.

'Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,

Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;

Which were inshell'd, when Marcius stood for Rome,

And durst not once peep out.

Sic.

Of Marcius?

Come, what talk you

Bru. Go see this rumourer whipp'd.-It cannot be, The Volces dare break with us.

Men.

Cannot be!

We have record, that very well it can;

And three examples of the like have been

Within my age. But reason with the fellow,
Before you punish him, where he heard this;
Lest you shall chance to whip your information,
And beat the messenger who bids beware
Of what is to be dreaded.

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Mess. The nobles, in great earnestness, are going All to the senate house: some news is come,

That turns their countenances.

Sic.

"Tis this slave;

Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes:-his raising!

Nothing but his report!

Mess.

Yes, worthy sir,

The slave's report is seconded; and more,
More fearful, is deliver'd.

Sic.

What more fearful?

Mess. It is spoke freely out of many mouths,
(How probable, I do not know,) that Marcius,
Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome;
And vows revenge as spacious, as between

The young'st and oldest thing.

Sic.

This is most likely!

Bru. Rais'd only, that the weaker sort may wish

Good Marcius home again.

Sic.

Men. This is unlikely:

The very trick on't.

He and Aufidius can no more atone",

Than violentest contrariety.

Enter another Messenger.

Mess. You are sent for to the senate:

A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius,
Associated with Aufidius, rages

Upon our territories; and have already

O'er-borne their way, consum'd with fire, and took What lay before them.

Enter COMINIUS.

Com. O, you have made good work!

Men.

What news? what news?

Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters,

and

To melt the city leads upon your pates;

To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses;-
Men. What's the news? what's the news?

Com. Your temples burned in their cement; and Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd

Into an augre's bore.

Mien.

Pray now, your news?

You have made fair work, I fear me:-Pray, your

news?

If Marcius should be join'd with Volcians,

Com.

If!

He is their god; he leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better: and they follow him,

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