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第42章

Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him CORIOLANUS Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier, No more infected with my country's love Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting Under your great command. You are to know That prosperously I have attempted and With bloody passage led your wars even to The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home Do more than counterpoise a full third part The charges of the action. We have made peace With no less honour to the Antiates Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, Together with the seal o' the senate, what We have compounded on. AUFIDIUS Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree He hath abused your powers. CORIOLANUS Traitor! how now! AUFIDIUS Ay, traitor, Marcius! CORIOLANUS Marcius! AUFIDIUS Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name Coriolanus in Corioli?

You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously He has betray'd your business, and given up, For certain drops of salt, your city Rome, I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother;

Breaking his oath and resolution like A twist of rotten silk, never admitting Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears He whined and roar'd away your victory, That pages blush'd at him and men of heart Look'd wondering each at other. CORIOLANUS Hear'st thou, Mars? AUFIDIUS Name not the god, thou boy of tears! CORIOLANUS Ha! AUFIDIUS No more. CORIOLANUS Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!

Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion--Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join To thrust the lie unto him. First Lord Peace, both, and hear me speak. CORIOLANUS Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound!

If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:

Alone I did it. Boy! AUFIDIUS Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? All Conspirators Let him die for't. All The People 'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.'

'He kill'd my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' Second Lord Peace, ho! no outrage: peace!

The man is noble and his fame folds-in This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace. CORIOLANUS O that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, To use my lawful sword! AUFIDIUS Insolent villain! All Conspirators Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body Lords Hold, hold, hold, hold! AUFIDIUS My noble masters, hear me speak. First Lord O Tullus,-- Second Lord Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. Third Lord Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet;

Put up your swords. AUFIDIUS My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure Your heaviest censure. First Lord Bear from hence his body;

And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most noble corse that ever herald Did follow to his urn. Second Lord His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.

Let's make the best of it. AUFIDIUS My rage is gone;

And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.

Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.

Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:

Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.

Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded

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