« PreviousContinue »
Your own desert? Cor.
Ay, not Mine own desire. 1 Cit.
How! not your own desire? Cor. No, sir: 'Twas never my desire yet, to trouble The poor with begging. i Cit. You must think, if we give you any
thing, We hope to gain by you. Cor. Well then, I pray, your price o' the con
sulship? 1 Cit. The price is, sir, to ask it kindly. Cor.
Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to show
you, Which shall be yours in private.—Your good voice,
sir; What say you? 2 Cit.
You shall have it, worthy sir.
But this is something odd. 2 Cit. An 'twere to give again,- But ’tis no matter.
[Exeunt two Citizens.
Enter two other Citizens.
Cor. Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your voices, that I may be consul, I have here the customary gown.
i Cit. You have deserved nobly of your country, and you have not deserved nobly.
Cor. Your enigma?
i Cit. You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have been a rod to her friends; you have not, indeed, loved the common people.
Cor. You should account me the more virtuous, that I have not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my sworn brother the people, to earn a dearer estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod, and be off to them most counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment of some popular man, and give it bountifully to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you,
be consul. 2 Cit. We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give you our voices heartily.
i Cit. You have received many wounds for your country.
Cor. I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further. Both Cit. The gods give you joy, sir, heartily!
[Ereunt. Cor. Most sweet voices !Better it is to die, better to starve, Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. Why in this woolvish gown should I stand here, To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, Their needless vouches: Custom calls me to't:
What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
Enter three other Citizens.
your voices, bear
i Cit. He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest man's voice. .
2 Cit. Therefore let him be consul: The gods give him joy, and make him good friend to the people!
All. Amen, amen.--
Re-enter Menenius, with Brutus, and Sicinius.
Is this done?
Cor. Where? at the senate-house?
You may, sir. Cor. That I'll straight do; and, knowing my
Men. I'll keep you company.-Will you along?
Fare you well.
[Exeunt Coriol. and Menen. He has it now; and by his looks, methinks, 'Tis warm at his heart. Bru.
With a proud heart he wore His humble weeds: Will you dismiss the people?
Re-enter Citizens. Sic. How now, my masters? have you chose this
deserve your loves. 2 Cit. Amen, sir: To my poor unworthy notice, He mock'd us, when he begg'd our voices. 3 Cit.
Certainly, He flouted us down-right. i Cit. No, 'tis his kind of speech, he did not 2 Cit. Not one amongst us, save yourself, but
says, He us'd us scornfully: he should have show'd us His marks of merit, wounds receiv'd for his coun
try. Sic. Why, so he did, I am sure. Cit.
No; no man saw 'em.
[Several speak. 3 Cit. He said, he had wounds, which he could
show in private;
Sic. Why, either, were you ignorant to see't?
Could you not have told him,