Leave nothing out for length, and make us think, Sic. We are convented Upon a pleasing treaty; and have hearts The theme of our assembly. Bru. Which the rather We shall be bless'd to do, if he remember A kinder value of the people, than He hath hereto priz'd them at. Men. That's off, that's off, I would you rather had been silent: Please you Bru. Than the rebuke you give it. Men. He loves your people; But tie him not to be their bedfellow. Worthy Cominius, speak-Nay, keep your place. [Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away. 1 Sen. Sit, Coriolanus: never shame to hear What you have nobly done. Cor. Your honours' pardon; I had rather have my wounds to heal again, Than bear say how I got them. Bru. My words disbench'd you not. Sir, I hope, No, sir: yet oft, Cor. When blows have made me stay, I filed from words. You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not: But, your peo ple, I love them as they weigh. Men. Pray now, sit down. Nothing to the purpose. Cor. I had rather have one scratch my head i'the sun, When the alarum were struck, than idly sit Men. [Erit Coriolanus. Masters o'the people, Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter That valour is the chiefest virtue, and Be singly counterpois'd. At sixteen years, He lurch'd all swords o'the garland. For this last, I cannot speak him home: He stopp'd the fliers; Turn terror into sport: as waves before Summons to battle. Without a beard. + Possessor. Bearded. Smooth-faced enough to act a woman's parts. A vessel under sail, so men obey'd, Men. Worthy man! 1 Sen. He cannot but with measure fit the honours Which we devise him. Com. Our spoils he kick'd at; And look'd upon things precious, as they were The common muck o'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. Men. Let him be call'd for. 1 Sen. Off. He doth appear. He's right noble; Call for Coriolanus. Re-enter Coriolanus. Men. The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd To make thee consul. Men. It then remains, That you do speak to the people. Cor. 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 Must have their voices; One jot of ceremony. Men. Sir, the people neither will they bate Put them not to't: Pray you, go fit you to the custom; and Cor. It is a part That I shall blush in acting, and might well Be taken from the people. Bru. Mark you that? Cor. To brag unto them,-Thus I did, and thus;Show them the unaking scars which I should hide, As if I had received them for the hire, Of their breath only : Men. 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. Sen. To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! As if he did contemn what he requested Should be in them to give. Bru. Come, we'll inform them [Exeunt. Of our proceedings here: on the market-place, SCENE III. The same. The Forum. Enter several Citizens. 1 Cit. Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. 2 Cit. We may, sir, if we will. 3 Cit. 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 tell him our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is monstrous: and for the multitude to be ingrateful, were to make a monster of the multitude; of the which, we being members, should bring ourselves to be moustrous members. 1 Cit. And to make us no better thought of, a little help will serve: for once, when we stood up about the corn, he himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude. 3 Cit. We have been called so of many; not that our heads are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, but that our wits are so diversly coloured: and truly I think, if all our wits were to issue out of one scull, they would fly east, west, north, south; and their consent of one direct way should be at once to all the points o'the compass. 2 Cit. Think you so? Which way, do you judge, my wit would fly? 3 Cit. Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's will, 'tis strongly wedged up in a blockhead: but if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward. |