LORDS. You are most welcome home. AUFIDIUS. I have not deserv'd 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. Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; the 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 Doth 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 th' Romans; and we here deliver, Subscrib'd by th' consuls and patricians, Together with the seal o' th' Senate, what We have compounded on. AUFIDIUS. Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor in the highest degree He hath abus'd 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' th' 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' th' war; but at his nurse's tears He whin'd and roar'd away your victory, That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart Look'd wond'ring each at others. 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 forc'd 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,