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Men. Consider this ;-He has been bred i'the wars
Go not hoine.
I'll bring him to you:
must come, Or what is worst will follow. 1 Sen.
Pray you, let's to bim,
A room in Coriolanus's house.
Enter Coriolanus, and Patricians. Cor. Let them pull all about mine ears; present Death on the wheel, or at wild horses' heels;
* Finely sifted.
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
Enter Volumnia. '
You do the nobler. Cor. I muse*, my mother Does not approve me further, who was wont To call them woollen vassals, things created To buy and sell with groats; to show bare heads In congregations, to yawn; be still, and wonder, : When one but of my ordinancet stood up To speak of peace, or war. I talk of you;
O, sir, sir, sir,
Let them hang. Vol. Ay, and burn too..
Enter Menenius, and Senators. Men. Come, come, you have been too rough,
something too rough; . You must return, and mend it. 1 Sen.
There's no remedy:
Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Pray be counseld:
Well said, noble woman:
Cor. What must I do?
Return to the tribunes. Cor.
Well, What then? what then? Men.
Repent what you have spoke. Cor. For them ?- I cannot do it to the gods ; Must I then do't to them?
You are too absolute; Though therein you can never be too noble, But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, I' the war do grow together: Grant that, and tell me, In peace, what each of them by th' other lose. That they combine not there. Cor.
Tush, tush! Men.
A good demand. Vol. If it be honour, in your wars, to seem The same you are not (which, for your best ends, You adopt your policy), how is it less, or worse, That it shall hold companionship in peace With honour; as in war; since that to both It stands in like request ? Cor.
Why force* you this? Vol. Because that now it lies you on to speak To the people; not by your own instruction, Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you to,
But with such words that are but roted in
I pr'ythee now, my son, Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; And thus far having stretch'd it (here be with them), Thy knee bussing the stones (for in such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant More learned than the ears), waving thy head, Which often, thus, cortecting thy stout heart, That humble, as the ripest mulberry, Now will not hold the handling: Or, say to them. Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils, Hast not the soft way, which, thou dost confess, Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim, In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far As thou hast power, and person. Men.
This but done, Even as she speaks, why, all their hearts were yours: For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free As words to little purpose.
Prythee now, Go, and be rul'd: although, I know, thou hadstra
ther Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf, Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.
Enter Cominius. Com. I have been i'the market-place: and, sir,
Men. Only fair speech.
I think, 'twill serve, if he
He must, and will: Pr'ythee now, say, you will, and go about it. Cor. Must I go show them my unbarb'd sconce ?
Must I, With my base tongue, give to my noble heart A lie, that it must bear? Well, I will do't: Yet were there but this single plot to lose, This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it, And throw it against the wind. To the market
place You have put me now to such a part, which never I shall discharge to the life. Com.
Come, come, we'll prompt you. Vol. I pr'ythee now, sweet son; as thou hast said, My praises made thee first a soldier, so, To have my praise for this, perform a part, Thou hast not done before. Cor.
Well, I must do't: Away, my disposition, and possess me Some harlot's spirit! My throat of war be turu'd, Which quired with my drum, into a pipe Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves
* Unshaven head.