_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._