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You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not. But your people, |
I love them as they weigh- |
MENENIUS. Pray now, sit down. |
CORIOLANUS. I had rather have one scratch my head i' th' sun |
When the alarum were struck than idly sit |
To hear my nothings monster'd. Exit |
MENENIUS. Masters of the people, |
Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter- |
That's thousand to one good one- when you now see |
He had rather venture all his limbs for honour |
Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius. |
COMINIUS. I shall lack voice; the deeds of Coriolanus |
Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held |
That valour is the chiefest virtue and |
Most dignifies the haver. If it be, |
The man I speak of cannot in the world |
Be singly counterpois'd. At sixteen years, |
When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought |
Beyond the mark of others; our then Dictator, |
Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight |
When with his Amazonian chin he drove |
The bristled lips before him; he bestrid |
An o'erpress'd Roman and i' th' consul's view |
Slew three opposers; Tarquin's self he met, |
And struck him on his knee. In that day's feats, |
When he might act the woman in the scene, |
He prov'd best man i' th' field, and for his meed |
Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age |
Man-ent'red thus, he waxed like a sea, |
And in the brunt of seventeen battles since |
He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, |
Before and in Corioli, let me say |
I cannot speak him home. He stopp'd the fliers, |
And by his rare example made the coward |
Turn terror into sport; as weeds before |
A vessel under sail, so men obey'd |
And fell below his stem. His sword, death's stamp, |
Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot |
He was a thing of blood, whose every motion |
Was tim'd with dying cries. Alone he ent'red |
The mortal gate of th' city, which he painted |
With shunless destiny; aidless came off, |
And with a sudden re-enforcement struck |
Corioli like a planet. Now all's his. |
When by and by the din of war 'gan pierce |
His ready sense, then straight his doubled spirit |
Re-quick'ned what in flesh was fatigate, |
And to the battle came he; where he did |
Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if |
'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we call'd |
Both field and city ours he never stood |
To ease his breast with panting. |
MENENIUS. Worthy man! |
FIRST SENATOR. He cannot but with measure fit the honours |
Which we devise him. |
COMINIUS. Our spoils he kick'd at, |
And look'd upon things precious as they were |
The common muck of the world. He covets less |
Than misery itself would give, rewards |
His deeds with doing them, and is content |
To spend the time to end it. |
MENENIUS. He's right noble; |
Let him be call'd for. |
FIRST SENATOR. Call Coriolanus. |
OFFICER. He doth appear. |
Re-enter CORIOLANUS |
MENENIUS. The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd |
To make thee consul. |
CORIOLANUS. I do owe them still |
My life and services. |
MENENIUS. It then remains |
That you do speak to the people. |
CORIOLANUS. I do beseech you |
Let me o'erleap that custom; for I cannot |
Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them |
For my wounds' sake to give their suffrage. Please you |
That I may pass this doing. |
SICINIUS. Sir, the people |
Must have their voices; neither will they bate |
One jot of ceremony. |
MENENIUS. Put them not to't. |
Pray you go fit you to the custom, and |
Take to you, as your predecessors have, |
Your honour with your form. |
CORIOLANUS. It is a part |
That I shall blush in acting, and might well |
Be taken from the people. |
BRUTUS. Mark you that? |
CORIOLANUS. To brag unto them 'Thus I did, and thus!' |
Show them th' unaching scars which I should hide, |
As if I had receiv'd them for the hire |
Of their breath only! |
MENENIUS. Do not stand upon't. |
We recommend to you, Tribunes of the People, |
Our purpose to them; and to our noble consul |
Wish we all joy and honour. |
SENATORS. To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! |
[Flourish. Cornets. Then exeunt all |
but SICINIUS and BRUTUS] |
BRUTUS. You see how he intends to use the people. |
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