If you have heard your general talk of Rome, Men. I tell thee, fellow, (Of whom he's chief,) with all the size that verity I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise I G. 'Faith, Sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf, as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous to lie, as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary on the party of your general. 2 G. Howsoever you have been his liar, (as you say you have,) I am one that, telling true under him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. Men. Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not speak with him till after dinner. I G. You are a Roman, are you? I G. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the very defender of them, and, in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon. Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation. 2 G. Come, my captain knows you not. Men. I mean, thy general. I G. My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest I let forth your half pint of blood;-back, -that's the utmost of your having:-back. Men. Nay, but, fellow, fellow, Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. Cor. What's the matter? Men. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you: you shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment with him, if thou stand'st not i' the state of hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. -The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to thee; but being assured none but myself could [ACT V. Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, And would have sent it. [Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. I G. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back? 2 G. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? Men. I neither care for the world, nor your general: for such things as you, I can scarce think there's by himself, fears it not from another: let your geneany, you are so slight. He that hath a will to die ral do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was said to, Away! [Exit. I G. A noble fellow, I warrant him. rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken. 2 G. The worthy fellow is our general: he is the [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The Tent of CORIOLANUS. row Set down our host.-My partner in this action, Only their ends Auf. Cor. Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. Vir. The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think so. Cor. Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, Even to a full disgrace.--Best of my flesh, Forgive my tyranny; but do not say, For that, "Forgive our Romans." O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip Hath virgin'd it e'er since.-You gods! I prate, And the most noble mother of the world Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; [Kneels. Your knees to me? to your corrected son? Thou art my warrior; The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle, Cor. The god of soldiers, With the consent of supreme Jove, inform Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, And saving those that eye thee! Vol. Cor. That's my brave boy! Or, if you'd ask, remember this before,- Again with Rome's mechanics:-tell me not Vol. O, no more, no more! And state of bodies, would bewray what life Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts, Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow; Making the mother, wife, and child, to see Our wish, which side should win; for either thou With manacles through our streets, or else Vir. Boy. He shall not tread on me; I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be, Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. I have sat too long. Vol. [Rising. Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so, that our request did tend Your knee, sirrah. To save the Romans, thereby to destroy [us, Romans, "This we receiv'd;" and each in either side Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, "Be bless'd For making up this peace!" Thou know'st, great son, The end of war's uncertain; but this certain, To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate When she, (poor hen!) fond of no second brood, This is the last:-so we will home to Rome, Cor. [After holding VOLUMNIA by the hand in What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, Auf. [Aside.] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy Sic. Why, what of that? Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is no hope in't: our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution. Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man? Men. There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing. Sic. He loved his mother dearly. Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in. Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us! Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them; and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. |