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DioLiu
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Test3

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Sir, I cannot tell:
We must proceed as we do find the people.
Third Conspirator:
The people will remain uncertain whilst
'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
AUFIDIUS:
I know it;
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable and free.
Third Conspirator:
Sir, his stoutness
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,--
AUFIDIUS:
That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; served his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner, and
He waged me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.
First Conspirator:
So he did, my lord:
The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,
When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
For no less spoil than glory,--
AUFIDIUS:
There was it:
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
First Conspirator:
Your native town you enter'd like a post,
And had no welcomes home: but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.
Second Conspirator:
And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
With giving him glory.
Third Conspirator:
Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he express himself, or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounced shall bury
His reasons with his body.
AUFIDIUS:
Say no more:
Here come the lords.
All The Lords:
You are most welcome home.
AUFIDIUS:
I have not deserved it.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
What I have written to you?
Lords:
We have.
First Lord:
And grieve to hear't.
What faults he made before the last, I think
Might have found easy fines: but there to end
Where he was to begin and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse.
AUFIDIUS:
He approaches: you shall hear him.
CORIOLANUS:
Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier,
No more infected with my country's love