id stringlengths 16 16 | text stringlengths 151 2.3k | word_count int64 30 60 | source stringclasses 1 value |
|---|---|---|---|
twg_000000015700 | Where they shall know our mind. Away! [_Exeunt._] SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius Enter Cominius as it were in retire, with Soldiers. COMINIUS. Breathe you, my friends. Well fought! We are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands Nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs, We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, By interims | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015701 | and conveying gusts we have heard The charges of our friends. The Roman gods Lead their successes as we wish our own, That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountring, May give you thankful sacrifice! Enter a Messenger. Thy news? MESSENGER. The citizens of Corioles have issued, And given to Lartius and to Martius battle. I saw our party to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015702 | their trenches driven, And then I came away. COMINIUS. Though thou speakest truth, Methinks thou speakst not well. How long ist since? MESSENGER. Above an hour, my lord. COMINIUS. Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums. How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour And bring thy news so late? MESSENGER. Spies of the Volsces Held me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015703 | in chase, that I was forced to wheel Three or four miles about; else had I, sir, Half an hour since brought my report. [_Exit Messenger._] Enter Martius, bloody. COMINIUS. Whos yonder, That does appear as he were flayed? O gods, He has the stamp of Martius, and I have Before-time seen him thus. MARTIUS. Come I too late? COMINIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015704 | The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor More than I know the sound of Martius tongue From every meaner man. MARTIUS. Come I too late? COMINIUS. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own. MARTIUS. O, let me clip you In arms as sound as when I wooed, in heart As merry | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015705 | as when our nuptial day was done And tapers burned to bedward! COMINIUS. Flower of warriors, how ist with Titus Lartius? MARTIUS. As with a man busied about decrees, Condemning some to death and some to exile; Ransoming him or pitying, threatning the other; Holding Corioles in the name of Rome Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015706 | let him slip at will. COMINIUS. Where is that slave Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Wheres he? Call him hither. MARTIUS. Let him alone. He did inform the truth. But for our gentlemen, The common filea plague! Tribunes for them! The mouse neer shunned the cat as they did budge From rascals worse than they. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015707 | COMINIUS. But how prevailed you? MARTIUS. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. Where is the enemy? Are you lords o th field? If not, why cease you till you are so? COMINIUS. Martius, we have at disadvantage fought, And did retire to win our purpose. MARTIUS. How lies their battle? Know you on which side They | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015708 | have placed their men of trust? COMINIUS. As I guess, Martius, Their bands i th vaward are the Antiates, Of their best trust; oer them Aufidius, Their very heart of hope. MARTIUS. I do beseech you, By all the battles wherein we have fought, By th blood we have shed together, by th vows we have made To endure friends, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015709 | that you directly set me Against Aufidius and his Antiates, And that you not delay the present, but, Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, We prove this very hour. COMINIUS. Though I could wish You were conducted to a gentle bath And balms applied to you, yet dare I never Deny your asking. Take your choice of those | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015710 | That best can aid your action. MARTIUS. Those are they That most are willing. If any such be here As it were sin to doubtthat love this painting Wherein you see me smeared; if any fear Lesser his person than an ill report; If any think brave death outweighs bad life, And that his countrys dearer than himself; Let him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015711 | alone, or so many so minded, Wave thus to express his disposition And follow Martius. [_He waves his sword._] [_They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps._] O, me alone! Make you a sword of me? If these shows be not outward, which of you But is four Volsces? None | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015712 | of you but is Able to bear against the great Aufidius A shield as hard as his. A certain number, Though thanks to all, must I select from all. The rest shall bear the business in some other fight, As cause will be obeyed. Please you to march, And I shall quickly draw out my command, Which men are best | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015713 | inclined. COMINIUS. March on, my fellows. Make good this ostentation, and you shall Divide in all with us. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VII. The gates of Corioles Titus Lartius, having set a guard upon Corioles, going with drum and trumpet toward Cominius and Caius Martius, enters with a Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout. LARTIUS. So, let the ports be guarded. Keep | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015714 | your duties As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve For a short holding. If we lose the field, We cannot keep the town. LIEUTENANT. Fear not our care, sir. LARTIUS. Hence, and shut your gates upons. Our guider, come. To th Roman camp conduct us. [_Exeunt._] SCENE | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015715 | VIII. A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps Alarum, as in battle. Enter Martius and Aufidius at several doors. MARTIUS. Ill fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee Worse than a promise-breaker. AUFIDIUS. We hate alike. Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. MARTIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015716 | Let the first budger die the others slave, And the gods doom him after! AUFIDIUS. If I fly, Martius, Hollo me like a hare. MARTIUS. Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioles walls, And made what work I pleased. Tis not my blood Wherein thou seest me masked. For thy revenge Wrench up thy power to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015717 | th highest. AUFIDIUS. Wert thou the Hector That was the whip of your bragged progeny, Thou shouldst not scape me here. [_Here they fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of Aufidius._] Officious and not valiant, you have shamed me In your condemned seconds. [_Martius fights till they be driven in breathless. Aufidius and Martius exit, separately._] SCENE IX. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015718 | The Roman camp Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, at one door, Cominius with the Romans; at another door, Martius, with his arm in a scarf. COMINIUS. If I should tell thee oer this thy days work, Thout not believe thy deeds. But Ill report it Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; Where great patricians shall attend and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015719 | shrug, I th end admire; where ladies shall be frighted And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the dull tribunes, That with the fusty plebeians hate thine honours, Shall say against their hearts We thank the gods Our Rome hath such a soldier. Yet camst thou to a morsel of this feast, Having fully dined before. Enter Titus Lartius with his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015720 | power, from the pursuit. LARTIUS. O general, Here is the steed, we the caparison. Hadst thou beheld MARTIUS. Pray now, no more. My mother, Who has a charter to extol her blood, When she does praise me grieves me. I have done As you have donethats what I can; Induced as you have beenthats for my country. He that has | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015721 | but effected his good will Hath overtaen mine act. COMINIUS. You shall not be The grave of your deserving. Rome must know The value of her own. Twere a concealment Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, To hide your doings and to silence that Which, to the spire and top of praises vouched, Would seem but modest. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015722 | Therefore, I beseech you In sign of what you are, not to reward What you have donebefore our army hear me. MARTIUS. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remembered. COMINIUS. Should they not, Well might they fester gainst ingratitude And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses Whereof we have taen good and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015723 | good storeof all The treasure in this field achieved and city, We render you the tenth, to be taen forth Before the common distribution At your only choice. MARTIUS. I thank you, general, But cannot make my heart consent to take A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it; And stand upon my common part with those That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015724 | have beheld the doing. [_A long flourish. They all cry Martius, Martius! and cast up their caps and lances. Cominius and Lartius stand bare._] May these same instruments which, you profane, Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall I th field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be Made all of false-faced soothing! When steel grows soft Soft as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015725 | the parasites silk, let him be made An ovator for the wars! No more, I say. For that I have not washed my nose that bled, Or foiled some debile wretchwhich, without note, Heres many else have doneyou shout me forth In acclamations hyperbolical, As if I loved my little should be dieted In praises sauced with lies. COMINIUS. Too | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015726 | modest are you, More cruel to your good report than grateful To us that give you truly. By your patience, If gainst yourself you be incensed, well put you, Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, Then reason safely with you. Therefore be it known, As to us to all the world, that Caius Martius Wears this wars | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015727 | garland, in token of the which My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, With all his trim belonging. And from this time, For what he did before Corioles, call him, With all th applause and clamour of the host, Caius Martius Coriolanus! Bear Th addition nobly ever! [_Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums._] ALL. Caius Martius Coriolanus! CORIOLANUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015728 | I will go wash; And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush or no. Howbeit, I thank you. I mean to stride your steed and at all times To undercrest your good addition To th fairness of my power. COMINIUS. So, to our tent, Where, ere we do repose us, we will write To Rome of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015729 | our success.You, Titus Lartius, Must to Corioles back. Send us to Rome The best, with whom we may articulate For their own good and ours. LARTIUS. I shall, my lord. CORIOLANUS. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg Of my lord general. COMINIUS. Taket, tis yours. What ist? CORIOLANUS. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015730 | sometime lay here in Corioles At a poor mans house; he used me kindly. He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; But then Aufidius was within my view, And wrath oerwhelmed my pity. I request you To give my poor host freedom. COMINIUS. O, well begged! Were he the butcher of my son, he should Be free as is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015731 | the wind.Deliver him, Titus. LARTIUS. Martius, his name? CORIOLANUS. By Jupiter, forgot! I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. Have we no wine here? COMINIUS. Go we to our tent. The blood upon your visage dries; tis time It should be looked to. Come. [_A flourish of cornets. Exeunt._] SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces A flourish. Cornets. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015732 | Enter Tullus Aufidius, bloody, with two or three soldiers. AUFIDIUS. The town is taen. SOLDIER. Twill be delivered back on good condition. AUFIDIUS. Condition? I would I were a Roman, for I cannot, Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition? What good condition can a treaty find I th part that is at mercy? Five times, Martius, I have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015733 | fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter As often as we eat. By th elements, If eer again I meet him beard to beard, Hes mine or I am his. Mine emulation Hath not that honour int it had; for where I thought to crush him in an equal | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015734 | force, True sword to sword, Ill potch at him some way, Or wrath or craft may get him. SOLDIER. Hes the devil. AUFIDIUS. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valours poisoned With only suffring stain by him; for him Shall fly out of itself. Nor sleep nor sanctuary, Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, The prayers of priests nor | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015735 | times of sacrifice, Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up Their rotten privilege and custom gainst My hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it At home, upon my brothers guard, even there, Against the hospitable canon, would I Wash my fierce hand ins heart. Go you to th city; Learn how tis held and what they are that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015736 | must Be hostages for Rome. SOLDIER. Will not you go? AUFIDIUS. I am attended at the cypress grove. I pray you Tis south the city mills,bring me word thither How the world goes, that to the pace of it I may spur on my journey. SOLDIER. I shall, sir. [_Exeunt._] ACT II SCENE I. Rome. A public place Enter Menenius | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015737 | with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius and Brutus. MENENIUS. The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight. BRUTUS. Good or bad? MENENIUS. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Martius. SICINIUS. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. MENENIUS. Pray you, who does the wolf love? SICINIUS. The lamb. MENENIUS. Ay, to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015738 | devour him, as the hungry plebeians would the noble Martius. BRUTUS. Hes a lamb indeed, that baas like a bear. MENENIUS. Hes a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you. BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, sir. MENENIUS. In what enormity is Martius poor in, that you two have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015739 | not in abundance? BRUTUS. Hes poor in no one fault, but stored with all. SICINIUS. Especially in pride. BRUTUS. And topping all others in boasting. MENENIUS. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o th right-hand file, do you? BOTH TRIBUNES. Why, how are we censured? MENENIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015740 | Because you talk of pride now, will you not be angry? BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, well, sir, well? MENENIUS. Why, tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. Give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures, at the least, if you take it as a pleasure | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015741 | to you in being so. You blame Martius for being proud. BRUTUS. We do it not alone, sir. MENENIUS. 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 infantlike for doing much alone. You talk of pride. O that you could turn your eyes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015742 | toward the napes of your necks and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could! BOTH TRIBUNES. What then, sir? MENENIUS. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as any in Rome. SICINIUS. Menenius, you are known well enough, too. MENENIUS. I am known to be a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015743 | humorous patrician and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber int; 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015744 | my malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as you areI cannot call you Lycurgusesif the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015745 | be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell 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? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015746 | BRUTUS. Come, sir, come; we know you well enough. MENENIUS. You know neither me, yourselves, nor anything. You are ambitious for poor knaves caps and legs. You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and a faucet-seller, and then rejourn the controversy of threepence to a second day of audience. When you are hearing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015747 | a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing. All the peace you make in their cause is calling both the parties knaves. You | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015748 | are a pair of strange ones. BRUTUS. Come, come. You are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol. MENENIUS. Our very priests must become mockers if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015749 | beards, and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave as to stuff a botchers cushion or to be entombed in an asss packsaddle. Yet you must be saying Martius 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 een to your Worships. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015750 | 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. [_He begins to exit. Brutus and Sicinius stand aside._] Enter Volumnia, Virgilia and Valeria How now, my as fair as noble ladiesand the moon, were she earthly, no noblerwhither do you follow your eyes so | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015751 | fast? VOLUMNIA. Honourable Menenius, my boy Martius approaches. For the love of Juno, lets go! MENENIUS. Ha? Martius coming home? VOLUMNIA. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation. MENENIUS. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee! Hoo! Martius coming home? VALERIA, VIRGILIA. Nay, tis true. VOLUMNIA. Look, heres a letter from him. The state hath another, his wife | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015752 | another, and I think theres one at home for you. MENENIUS. I will make my very house reel tonight. A letter for me? VIRGILIA. Yes, certain, theres a letter for you; I saw it. MENENIUS. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years health, in which time I will make a lip at the physician. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015753 | most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse drench. Is he not wounded? He was wont to come home wounded. VIRGILIA. O, no, no, no! VOLUMNIA. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods fort. MENENIUS. So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings he victory | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015754 | in his pocket, the wounds become him. VOLUMNIA. Ons brows, Menenius. He comes the third time home with the oaken garland. MENENIUS. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? VOLUMNIA. Titus Lartius writes they fought together, but Aufidius got off. MENENIUS. And twas time for him too, Ill warrant him that. An he had stayed by him, I would not have been | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015755 | so fidiused for all the chests in Corioles and the gold thats in them. Is the Senate possessed of this? VOLUMNIA. Good ladies, lets go.Yes, yes, yes. The Senate has letters from the General, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war. He hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly. VALERIA. In troth, theres wondrous | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015756 | things spoke of him. MENENIUS. Wondrous? Ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing. VIRGILIA. The gods grant them true. VOLUMNIA. True? Pow, waw! MENENIUS. True? Ill be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? [_To the Tribunes_.] God save your good Worships! Martius is coming home; he has more cause to be proud.Where is he wounded? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015757 | VOLUMNIA. I th shoulder and i th 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 th body. MENENIUS. One i th neck and two i th thightheres nine that I know. VOLUMNIA. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015758 | upon him. MENENIUS. Now its twenty-seven. Every gash was an enemys grave. [_A shout and flourish_.] Hark, the trumpets! VOLUMNIA. These are the ushers of Martius: before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. Death, that dark spirit, ins nervy arm doth lie, Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. [_A sennet_.] Enter Cominius the General | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015759 | and Titus Lartius, between them Coriolanus crowned with an oaken garland, with Captains and Soldiers and a Herald. Trumpets sound. HERALD. Know, Rome, that all alone Martius did fight Within Corioles gates, where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Martius; these In honour follows Coriolanus. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus. [_Sound flourish._] ALL. Welcome to Rome, renowned | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015760 | Coriolanus! CORIOLANUS. No more of this, it does offend my heart. Pray now, no more. COMINIUS. Look, sir, your mother. CORIOLANUS. O, You have, I know, petitioned all the gods For my prosperity. [_Kneels._] VOLUMNIA. Nay, my good soldier, up. [_He stands._] My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, and By deed-achieving honour newly named What is it? Coriolanus must I call | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015761 | thee? But, O, thy wife CORIOLANUS. My gracious silence, hail. Wouldst thou have laughed had I come coffined home, That weepst to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, Such eyes the widows in Corioles wear And mothers that lack sons. MENENIUS. Now the gods crown thee! CORIOLANUS. And live you yet? [_To Valeria_] O my sweet lady, pardon. VOLUMNIA. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015762 | know not where to turn. O, welcome home! And welcome, general.And youre welcome all. MENENIUS. A hundred thousand welcomes! I could weep, And I could laugh; I am light and heavy. Welcome. A curse begin at very root ons heart That is not glad to see thee! You are three That Rome should dote on; yet, by the faith of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015763 | men, We have some old crab trees here at home that will not Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors! We call a nettle but a nettle, and The faults of fools but folly. COMINIUS. Ever right. CORIOLANUS. Menenius ever, ever. HERALD. Give way there, and go on! CORIOLANUS. [_To Volumnia and Virgilia_.] Your hand, and yours. Ere in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015764 | our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited, From whom I have received not only greetings, But with them change of honours. VOLUMNIA. I have lived To see inherited my very wishes And the buildings of my fancy. Only Theres one thing wanting, which I doubt not but Our Rome will cast upon thee. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015765 | CORIOLANUS. Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way Than sway with them in theirs. COMINIUS. On, to the Capitol. [_Flourish of cornets. Exeunt in state, as before._] Brutus and Sicinius come forward. BRUTUS. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015766 | baby cry While she chats him. The kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram bout her reechy neck, Clambring the walls to eye him. Stalls, bulks, windows Are smothered up, leads filled, and ridges horsed With variable complexions, all agreeing In earnestness to see him. Seld-shown flamens Do press among the popular throngs and puff To win a vulgar station. Our | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015767 | veiled dames Commit the war of white and damask in Their nicely-gauded cheeks to th wanton spoil Of Phoebus burning kisses. Such a pother, As if that whatsoever god who leads him Were slyly crept into his human powers And gave him graceful posture. SICINIUS. On the sudden I warrant him consul. BRUTUS. Then our office may, During his power, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015768 | go sleep. SICINIUS. He cannot temprately transport his honours From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won. BRUTUS. In that theres comfort. SICINIUS. Doubt not the commoners, for whom we stand, But they, upon their ancient malice will forget With the least cause these his new honourswhich That he will give them make as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015769 | little question As he is proud to dot. BRUTUS. I heard him swear, Were he to stand for consul, never would he Appear i th marketplace nor on him put The napless vesture of humility, Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds To th people, beg their stinking breaths. SICINIUS. Tis right. BRUTUS. It was his word. O, he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015770 | would miss it rather Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him And the desire of the nobles. SICINIUS. I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose and to put it In execution. BRUTUS. Tis most like he will. SICINIUS. It shall be to him then, as our good wills, A sure destruction. BRUTUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015771 | So it must fall out To him, or our authorities for an end. We must suggest the people in what hatred He still hath held them; that tos power he would Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders, and Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them In human action and capacity Of no more soul nor fitness for the world Than camels | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015772 | in their war, who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them. SICINIUS. This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall touch the peoplewhich time shall not want If it be put upont, and thats as easy As to set dogs on sheepwill be his fire To kindle their | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015773 | dry stubble, and their blaze Shall darken him for ever. Enter a Messenger. BRUTUS. Whats the matter? MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Capitol. Tis thought That Martius shall be consul. I have seen The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind to hear him speak; matrons flung gloves, Ladies and maids their scarves and handkerchiefs, Upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015774 | him as he passed; the nobles bended As to Joves statue, and the Commons made A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts. I never saw the like. BRUTUS. Lets to the Capitol; And carry with us ears and eyes for th time, But hearts for the event. SICINIUS. Have with you. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Rome. The Capitol Enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015775 | two Officers, to lay cushions, as it were in the Capitol. FIRST OFFICER. Come, come. They are almost here. How many stand for consulships? SECOND OFFICER. Three, they say; but tis thought of everyone Coriolanus will carry it. FIRST OFFICER. Thats a brave fellow, but hes vengeance proud and loves not the common people. SECOND OFFICER. Faith, there have been | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015776 | many great men that have flattered the people who neer loved them; and there be many that they have loved they know not wherefore; so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground. Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate him manifests the true knowledge he has in their | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015777 | disposition and, out of his noble carelessness, lets them plainly seet. FIRST OFFICER. 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015778 | 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. SECOND OFFICER. 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, bonnetted, without any further deed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015779 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015780 | from every ear that heard it. FIRST OFFICER. No more of him; hes a worthy man. Make way. They are coming. A sennet. Enter the Patricians and the Tribunes of the people, Lictors before them; Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius the consul. The Patricians sit. Sicinius and Brutus take their places by themselves. Coriolanus stands. MENENIUS. Having determined of the Volsces and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015781 | To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, As the main point of this our after-meeting, To gratify his noble service that Hath thus stood for his country. Therefore please you, Most reverend and grave elders, to desire The present consul and last general In our well-found successes to report A little of that worthy work performed By Martius Caius Coriolanus, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015782 | whom We met here both to thank and to remember With honours like himself. [_Coriolanus sits._] FIRST SENATOR. Speak, good Cominius. Leave nothing out for length, and make us think Rather our states defective for requital, Than we to stretch it out. Masters o th people, We do request your kindest ears and, after, Your loving motion toward the common | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015783 | body To yield what passes here. SICINIUS. We are convented Upon a pleasing treaty and have hearts Inclinable to honour and advance The theme of our assembly. BRUTUS. Which the rather We shall be blest to do if he remember A kinder value of the people than He hath hereto prized them at. MENENIUS. Thats off, thats off! I would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015784 | you rather had been silent. Please you To hear Cominius speak? BRUTUS. Most willingly. But yet my caution was more pertinent Than the rebuke you give it. MENENIUS. He loves your people, But tie him not to be their bedfellow. Worthy Cominius, speak. [_Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away._] Nay, keep your place. FIRST SENATOR. Sit, Coriolanus. Never shame | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015785 | to hear What you have nobly done. CORIOLANUS. Your Honours, pardon. I had rather have my wounds to heal again Than hear say how I got them. BRUTUS. Sir, I hope My words disbenched you not? CORIOLANUS. No, sir. Yet oft, When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. You soothed not, therefore hurt not; but your people, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015786 | 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 monstered. [_Exit._] MENENIUS. Masters of the people, Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter Thats thousand to one good onewhen you now see He had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015787 | rather venture all his limbs for honour Than one ons ears to hear it?Proceed, Cominius. COMINIUS. I shall lack voice. The deeds of Coriolanus Should not be uttered 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 counterpoised. At sixteen | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015788 | 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 oerpressed Roman and i th Consuls view Slew three opposers. Tarquins self he met And struck him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015789 | on his knee. In that days feats, When he might act the woman in the scene, He proved best man i th field and for his meed Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age Man-entered thus, he waxed like a sea, And in the brunt of seventeen battles since He lurched all swords of the garland. For this last, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015790 | Before and in Corioles, let me say, I cannot speak him home. He stopped the flyers And by his rare example made the coward Turn terror into sport. As weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obeyed And fell below his stem. His sword, Deaths stamp, Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot He was a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015791 | thing of blood, whose every motion Was timed with dying cries. Alone he entered The mortal gate o th city, which he painted With shunless destiny; aidless came off And with a sudden reinforcement struck Corioles like a planet. Now alls his, When by and by the din of war gan pierce His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015792 | Requickened what in flesh was fatigate, And to the battle came he, where he did Run reeking oer the lives of men as if Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we called 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015793 | we devise him. COMINIUS. Our spoils he kicked at; And looked 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. Hes right noble. Let him be called for. FIRST SENATOR. Call Coriolanus. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015794 | OFFICER. He doth appear. Enter Coriolanus. MENENIUS. The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased 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 oerleap that custom, for I cannot Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015795 | 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 tot. Pray you, go fit you to the custom, and Take to you, as your predecessors have, Your honour with your form. CORIOLANUS. It | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015796 | 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 received them for the hire Of their breath only! MENENIUS. Do not stand upont. We recommend | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015797 | 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. Exeunt all but Sicinius and Brutus._] BRUTUS. You see how he intends to use the people. SICINIUS. May they perceives intent! He will require them As if he did | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015798 | contemn what he requested Should be in them to give. BRUTUS. Come, well inform them Of our proceedings here. On th marketplace I know they do attend us. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. Rome. The Forum Enter seven or eight Citizens. FIRST CITIZEN. Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. SECOND CITIZEN. We may, sir, if | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000015799 | we will. THIRD CITIZEN. We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a power that we have no power to do; for, if he show us his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our tongues into those wounds and speak for them. So, if he tell us his noble deeds, we must also | 60 | gutenberg |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.