Making the mother, wife, and child, to see Our wish, which side should win: for either thou With manacles thorough our streets, or else These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee Vir. Ay, and on mine, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time. Boy. He shall not tread on me; I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. Vol. [Rising. Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so, that our request did tend These wars determine:] i. e. conclude, end. To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us, Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air, That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? world More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy; When she, (poor hen!) fond of no second brood, Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home, the fine strains-] The niceties, the refinements. "And yet to charge thy sulphur-] The meaning of the passage is, To threaten much, and yet be merciful. Like one i the stocks.] Keeps me in a state of ignominy talking to no purpose. Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust, Like him by chance :-Yet give us our despatch: And then I'll speak a little. Cor. O mother, mother! [Holding VOLUMNIA by the Hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome: But, for your son,-believe it, O, believe it, Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him. But, let it come:Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? Auf. I was mov'd withal. Cor. I dare be sworn, you were: And, sir, it is no little thing, to make 9 Does reason our petition-] Does argue for us and our petition. Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife! Auf. I am glad, thou has set thy mercy and thy honour At difference in thee: out of that I'll work Cor. [Aside. [The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS. Ay, by and by; [To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c. But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you:2 all the swords In Italy, and her confederate arms, Could not have made this peace. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Rome. A publick Place. Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS. Men. See you yond' coign o'the Capitol; yond' corner-stone? 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. 1 a former fortune.] i. e. restore myself to my former credit and power. 2 To have a temple built you:] Plutarch informs us, that a temple dedicated to the Fortune of the Ladies, was built on this occasion by order of the senate. But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.3 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. 4 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. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house; stay upon execution.] i. e. stay but for it. • He sits in his state, &c.] His state means his chair of state. |