'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?
Cons. Let him die for't. [Several speak at once.]
Citizens [Speaking promiscuously]. Tear him to pieces; do it presently. He killed my son—my daughter;—he killed my cousin Marcus;—he killed my father…. O that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, To use my lawful sword. Insolent villain! …Traitor!—how now?…. Ay, TRAITOR, Marcius. Marcius? Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius. Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that ROBBERY—thy STOLEN NAME, Coriolanus, in CORIOLI?…. […. Honest, my lord? 'Ay, honest.']
Cons. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.' 'Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? Against him FIRST.'
Surely, if that 'Heir apparent' to whom the History of HENRY THE SEVENTH was dedicated by the author, with an urgent recommendation of the 'rare accidents' in that reign to the royal notice and consideration; if that prince had but chanced in some thoroughly thoughtful mood to light upon this yet more 'ancient piece,' he might have found here, also, some things worthy of his notice. It cannot be denied, that the poet's mode of handling the same historical question is much more bold and clear than that of the professed philosopher. But probably this Prince was not aware that his father entertained at Whitehall then, not a literary Historian, merely—a Book-maker, able to compose narratives of the past in an orderly chronological prosaic manner, according to the received method—but a Show-man, also, an Historical Show-man, with such new gifts and arts; a true Magician, who had in his closet a mirror which possessed the property of revealing, not the past nor the present only, but the future, 'with a near aim,' an aim so near that it might well seem 'magical'; and that a cloud was flaming in it, even then, 'which drizzled blood upon the Capitol.' This Prince of Wales did not know, any more than his father did, that they had in their court then an historical scholar, with such an indomitable passion for the stage, with such a decided turn for acting—one who felt himself divinely prompted to a part in that theatre which is the Globe—one who had laid out all for his share in that. They did not either of them know, fortunately for us, that they had in their royal train such an Historic Sport-Manager, such a Prospero for Masques; that there was a true 'Phil-harmonus' there, with so clear an inspiration of scientific statesmanship. They did not know that they had in that servant of the crown, so supple, so 'patient—patient as the midnight sleep,' patient 'as the ostler that for the poorest piece will bear the knave by the volume'—such a born aspirant for rule; one who had always his eye on the throne, one who had always in mind their usurpation of it. They did not know that they had a Hamlet in their court, who never lost sight of his purpose, or faltered in his execution of it; who had found a scientific ground for his actions, an end for his ends; who only affected incoherence; and that it was he who was intriguing to such purpose with the PLAYERS.
The Elizabethan revolutionist was suppressed: then 'Fame, who is the posthumous sister of rebellion, sprang up.'
'O like a book of sports thou'lt read me o'er,
But there's more in me than thou'lt understand.'
'Henceforth guard thee well,
For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
But by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,
I'll kill thee everywhere, yea o'er and o'er.'