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Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
Halloo me like a hare.
We hate alike: | Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store, of all
If I fly, Marcius,
Mar. Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, And made what work I pleas'd; 'tis not my blood Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge Wrench up thy power to the highest. Auf. Wert thou the Hector That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, 12 Thou should'st not 'scape me here.
They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. Officious, and not valiant, you have sham'd me In your condemned seconds.
Exeunt fighting, all driven by MARCIUS.
To hear themselves remember'd.
In sign of what you are, not to reward
Should they not, Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, And tent themselves with death. Of all the
Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !
Com. So, to our tent; Where, ere we do repose us, we will write To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome The best, with whom we may articulate, For their own good and ours.
I shall, my lord. Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now Refus'd most princely gifts, am bound to beg 80 Of my lord general.
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
O! well begg'd.
Were he the butcher of my son, he should
By Jupiter! forgot. 90
SCENE X.-The Camp of the Volsces.
A Flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers.
Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.
I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Auf. The town is ta'en!
First Sold. Twill be deliver'd back on good of us o' the right-hand file? do you?
Sic., Bru. Why, how are we censured?
Men. Because you talk of pride now,-will you not be angry?
Sic., Bru. Well, well, sir; well.
Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will 10b you of a great deal of patience: give your dispositious the reins. and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud?
Bru. We do it not alone, sir.
And would'st do so, I think, should we encounter
He's the devil.
Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's
With only suffering stain by him; for him
Learn how 'tis held, and what they are that must
I shall, sir. Exeunt.
Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men : tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
Sic., Bru. Well, sir.
Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor in that you two have not in abundance?
Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
Sic. Especially in pride.
Bru. And topping all others in boasting. Men. This is strange now: do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean
Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Men. I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone. You talk of pride: O! that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves. O! that you could. Bru. What then, sir?
Men. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as any in Rome.
Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like upon too trivial motion; one that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning. What I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath. Meeting two such weals-men as you are, I cannot call you Lycurguses, if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have delivered the matter well when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables; and though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too?
Bru. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orangewife and a fosset-seller, and then rejourn the controversy of three-pence to a second day of When you are hearing a matter audience. between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the colic, you make faces like
he gives my son the whole name of the war.
Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.
Val. In troth there's wondrous things spoke of him.
Men. Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.
Men. True! I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? To the Tribunes. God save your good worships! Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud. Where
Vir. The gods grant them true!
as you are.
Men. Our very priests must become mockers if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects When you speak best unto the purpose it is not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so hon-is he wounded? ourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. Good den to your worships: more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.
BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside. Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA. How now, my as fair as noble ladies, and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler, whither do you follow your eyes so fast?
Vol. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go.
Vol. I' the shoulder and i' the left arm: there will be large cicatrices to show the people when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' the body.
Men. One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh, there 's nine that I know.
Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.
Men. Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was
Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;.
A Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and
Men. Ha! Marcius coming home?
Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.
Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! Marcius coming home!
Vol., Vir. Nay, 'tis true.
Vol. Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath another, his wife another; and I think there's one at home for you.
Men. I will make my very house reel to-night. A letter for me!
Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw 't.
Her. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,
All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! Cor. No more of this; it does offend my heart:
Pray now, no more.
Look, sir, your mother!
Men. A letter for me! It gives me an estate Com. of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign Cor. prescription in Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, of no better report than You have, I know, petition'd all the gods For my prosperity. Is he not wounded? he was a horse-drench. wont to come home wounded. Vir. O no, no, no.
Vol. O he is wounded; I thank the gods 130 for 't.
Men. So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings a victory in his pocket? The wounds become him.
My gracious silence, hail! Would'st thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd
Vol. On's brows, Menenius; he comes the third time home with the oaken garland.
Men. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? Vol. Titus Lartius writes they fought together, but Aufidius got off.
Men. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: an he had stayed by him I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the 143 senate possessed of this? Vol. Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate has letters from the general, wherein
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah! my dear,
Vol. I know not where to turn: O! welcome
And welcome, general; and ye 're welcome all.
And I could laugh; I am light, and heavy. | Appear i' the market-place, nor on him put Welcome!
The napless vesture of humility;
Nor, showing, as the manner is, his wounds
Bru. It was his word. Oh! he would miss
A curse begin at very root on 's heart
We have some old crab-trees here at home that
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors! And the desire of the nobles.
'Tis most like he will.
Sic. It shall be to him then as our good wills, Your A sure destruction.
So it must fall out
He still hath held them; that to's power he
Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, and
Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them,
hand, and yours:
Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
I have liv'd 211
On, to the Capitol! Exeunt in state, as before. The Tribunes remain. Bru. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights
Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse
Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'd
On the sudden,
I warrant him consul.
During his power, go sleep.
Sic. He cannot temperately transport his
Then our office may,
I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose and to put it In execution.
From where he should begin and end, but will
Lose those he hath won.
In that there 's comfort. Sic. Doubt not the commoners, for whom we stand,
But they upon their ancient malice will
Which that he'll give them, make I as little
As he is proud to do 't.
Of no more soul nor fitness for the world
love they know not why, they hate upon no
First Of If he did not care whether he had their love or no, he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither good nor harm; but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can render it him, and leaves nothing undone that may fully discover him their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.
He loves your people;
CORIOLANUS rises, and offers to go away.
I love them as they weigh.
Pray now, sit down.
Second Off. He hath deserved worthily of his country; and his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonneted, without any further deed to have them at all into their estimation and report; but he hath so planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions in their hearts, that for their tongues to be silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.
First Off. No more of him; he's a worthy man: make way, they are coming.
A Sennet. Enter, with Lictors before them, COMINIUS the Consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, many other Senators, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their places; the Tribunes take theirs also by themselves.
Men. Having determin'd of the Volsces, and
Most reverend and grave elders, to desire
He had rather venture all his limbs for honour
Com. I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
The man I speak of cannot in the world
Speak, good Cominius:
To the Tribunes.
Masters o' the people,
We do request your kindest ears, and after,
We are convented
But yet my caution was more pertinent
Which the rather
That's off, that's off; I would you rather had been silent. Please you To hear Cominius speak?
Before and in Corioli, let me say,
I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers,
And fell below his stem: his sword, death's
Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot