BRUTUS.
Or let us stand to our authority
Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce,
Upon the part o’ th’ people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Martius is worthy
Of present death.
SICINIUS.
Therefore lay hold of him,
Bear him to th’ rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.
BRUTUS.
Aediles, seize him!
ALL PLEBEIANS.
Yield, Martius, yield!
MENENIUS.
Hear me one word.
Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.
AEDILES.
Peace, peace!
MENENIUS.
Be that you seem, truly your country’s friend,
And temp’rately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.
BRUTUS.
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.
[Coriolanus draws his sword.]
CORIOLANUS.
No; I’ll die here.
There’s some among you have beheld me fighting.
Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.