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Complete Plays, The

Page 136

by William Shakespeare


  To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all.

  Wherefore’s this noise?

  Exit Iras. A noise within

  Enter a Guardsman

  Guard

  Here is a rural fellow

  That will not be denied your highness presence:

  He brings you figs.

  Cleopatra

  Let him come in.

  Exit Guardsman

  What poor an instrument

  May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.

  My resolution’s placed, and I have nothing

  Of woman in me: now from head to foot

  I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon

  No planet is of mine.

  Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket

  Guard

  This is the man.

  Cleopatra

  Avoid, and leave him.

  Exit Guardsman

  Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there,

  That kills and pains not?

  Clown

  Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or never recover.

  Cleopatra

  Rememberest thou any that have died on’t?

  Clown

  Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes a very good report o’ the worm; but he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do: but this is most fallible, the worm’s an odd worm.

  Cleopatra

  Get thee hence; farewell.

  Clown

  I wish you all joy of the worm.

  Setting down his basket

  Cleopatra

  Farewell.

  Clown

  You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.

  Cleopatra

  Ay, ay; farewell.

  Clown

  Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no goodness in worm.

  Cleopatra

  Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.

  Clown

  Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding.

  Cleopatra

  Will it eat me?

  Clown

  You must not think I am so simple but I know the devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women; for in every ten that they make, the devils mar five.

  Cleopatra

  Well, get thee gone; farewell.

  Clown

  Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o’ the worm.

  Exit

  Re-enter Iras with a robe, crown, & c

  Cleopatra

  Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have

  Immortal longings in me: now no more

  The juice of Egypt’s grape shall moist this lip:

  Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear

  Antony call; I see him rouse himself

  To praise my noble act; I hear him mock

  The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men

  To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come:

  Now to that name my courage prove my title!

  I am fire and air; my other elements

  I give to baser life. So; have you done?

  Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.

  Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.

  Kisses them. Iras falls and dies

  Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?

  If thou and nature can so gently part,

  The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch,

  Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still?

  If thus thou vanishest, thou tell’st the world

  It is not worth leave-taking.

  Charmian

  Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say,

  The gods themselves do weep!

  Cleopatra

  This proves me base:

  If she first meet the curled Antony,

  He’ll make demand of her, and spend that kiss

  Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou mortal wretch,

  To an asp, which she applies to her breast

  With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate

  Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool

  Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,

  That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass

  Unpolicied!

  Charmian

  O eastern star!

  Cleopatra

  Peace, peace!

  Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,

  That sucks the nurse asleep?

  Charmian

  O, break! O, break!

  Cleopatra

  As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,—

  O Antony!— Nay, I will take thee too.

  Applying another asp to her arm

  What should I stay —

  Dies

  Charmian

  In this vile world? So, fare thee well.

  Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies

  A lass unparallel’d. Downy windows, close;

  And golden Phoebus never be beheld

  Of eyes again so royal! Your crown’s awry;

  I’ll mend it, and then play.

  Enter the Guard, rushing in

  First Guard

  Where is the queen?

  Charmian

  Speak softly, wake her not.

  First Guard

  Caesar hath sent —

  Charmian

  Too slow a messenger.

  Applies an asp

  O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee.

  First Guard

  Approach, ho! All’s not well: Caesar’s beguiled.

  Second Guard

  There’s Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him.

  First Guard

  What work is here! Charmian, is this well done?

  Charmian

  It is well done, and fitting for a princess

  Descended of so many royal kings.

  Ah, soldier!

  Dies

  Re-enter Dolabella

  Dolabella

  How goes it here?

  Second Guard

  All dead.

  Dolabella

  Caesar, thy thoughts

  Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming

  To see perform’d the dreaded act which thou

  So sought’st to hinder.

  [Within] ‘A way there, a way for Caesar!’

  Re-enter Octavius Caesar and all his train marching

  Dolabella

  O sir, you are too sure an augurer;

  That you did fear is done.

  Octavius Caesar

  Bravest at the last,

  She levell’d at our purposes, and, being royal,

  Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?

  I do not see them bleed.

  Dolabella

  Who was last with them?

  First Guard

  A simple countryman, that brought her figs:

  This was his basket.

  Octavius Caesar

  Poison’d, then.

  First Guard

  O Caesar,

  This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake:

  I found her trimming up the diadem

  On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood

  And on the sudden dropp’d.

  Octavius Caesar

  O noble weakness!

  If they had swallow’d poison, ’twould appear

  By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,

  As she would catch another Anton
y

  In her strong toil of grace.

  Dolabella

  Here, on her breast,

  There is a vent of blood and something blown:

  The like is on her arm.

  First Guard

  This is an aspic’s trail: and these fig-leaves

  Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves

  Upon the caves of Nile.

  Octavius Caesar

  Most probable

  That so she died; for her physician tells me

  She hath pursued conclusions infinite

  Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed;

  And bear her women from the monument:

  She shall be buried by her Antony:

  No grave upon the earth shall clip in it

  A pair so famous. High events as these

  Strike those that make them; and their story is

  No less in pity than his glory which

  Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall

  In solemn show attend this funeral;

  And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see

  High order in this great solemnity.

  Exeunt

  The Tragedy of Coriolanus

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

  ACT I

  SCENE I. ROME. A STREET.

  SCENE II. CORIOLI. THE SENATE-HOUSE.

  SCENE III. ROME. A ROOM IN MARCIUS’ HOUSE.

  SCENE IV. BEFORE CORIOLI.

  SCENE V. CORIOLI. A STREET.

  SCENE VI. NEAR THE CAMP OF COMINIUS.

  SCENE VII. THE GATES OF CORIOLI.

  SCENE VIII. A FIELD OF BATTLE.

  SCENE IX. THE ROMAN CAMP.

  SCENE X. THE CAMP OF THE VOLSCES.

  ACT II

  SCENE I. ROME. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  SCENE II. THE SAME. THE CAPITOL.

  SCENE III. THE SAME. THE FORUM.

  ACT III

  SCENE I. ROME. A STREET.

  SCENE II. A ROOM IN CORIOLANUS’S HOUSE.

  SCENE III. THE SAME. THE FORUM.

  ACT IV

  SCENE I. ROME. BEFORE A GATE OF THE CITY.

  SCENE II. THE SAME. A STREET NEAR THE GATE.

  SCENE III. A HIGHWAY BETWEEN ROME AND ANTIUM.

  SCENE IV. ANTIUM. BEFORE AUFIDIUS’S HOUSE.

  SCENE V. THE SAME. A HALL IN AUFIDIUS’S HOUSE.

  SCENE VI. ROME. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  SCENE VII. A CAMP, AT A SMALL DISTANCE FROM ROME.

  ACT V

  SCENE I. ROME. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  SCENE II. ENTRANCE OF THE VOLSCIAN CAMP BEFORE ROME.

  SCENE III. THE TENT OF CORIOLANUS.

  SCENE IV. ROME. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  SCENE V. THE SAME. A STREET NEAR THE GATE.

  SCENE VI. ANTIUM. A PUBLIC PLACE.

  CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

  Caius Marcius, afterwards Coriolanus.

  Titus Lartius and Cominius, generals against the Volscians.

  Menenius Agrippa, friend to Coriolanus.

  Sicinius Velutus and Junius Brutus, tribunes of the people.

  Young Marcius, son to Coriolanus.

  A Roman Herald.

  Tullus Aufidius, general of the Volscians.

  Lieutenant to Aufidius.

  Conspirators with Aufidius.

  A Citizen of Antium.

  Volsce.

  Volumnia, mother to Coriolanus.

  Virgilia, wife to Coriolanus.

  Valeria, friend to Virgilia.

  Gentlewoman, attending on Virgilia.

  Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, AEdiles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.

  Scene: Rome and the neighbourhood; Corioli and the neighbourhood; Antium.

  ACT I

  SCENE I. ROME. A STREET.

  Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons

  First Citizen

  Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

  All

  Speak, speak.

  First Citizen

  You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?

  All

  Resolved. resolved.

  First Citizen

  First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.

  All

  We know’t, we know’t.

  First Citizen

  Let us kill him, and we’ll have corn at our own price.

  Is’t a verdict?

  All

  No more talking on’t; let it be done: away, away!

  Second Citizen

  One word, good citizens.

  First Citizen

  We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularise their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

  Second Citizen

  Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?

  All

  Against him first: he’s a very dog to the commonalty.

  Second Citizen

  Consider you what services he has done for his country?

  First Citizen

  Very well; and could be content to give him good report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud.

  Second Citizen

  Nay, but speak not maliciously.

  First Citizen

  I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be content to say it was for his country he did it to please his mother and to be partly proud; which he is, even till the altitude of his virtue.

  Second Citizen

  What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.

  First Citizen

  If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition.

  Shouts within

  What shouts are these? The other side o’ the city is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!

  All

  Come, come.

  First Citizen

  Soft! who comes here?

  Enter Menenius Agrippa

  Second Citizen

  Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.

  First Citizen

  He’s one honest enough: would all the rest were so!

  Menenius

  What work’s, my countrymen, in hand? where go you

  With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.

  First Citizen

  Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, which now we’ll show ’em in deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we have strong arms too.

  Menenius

  Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,

  Will you undo yourselves?

  First Citizen

  We cannot, sir, we are undone already.

  Menenius

  I tell you, friends, most charitable care

  Have the patricians of you. For your wants,

  Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well

  Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them

  Against the Roman state, whose course will on

  The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs

  Of more strong link asunder than can ever

  Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,

  The gods, not the patricians, make it, and

  Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,

  You are transported by calamity

  Thither where more attends you, and you slander

  The helms o’ the stat
e, who care for you like fathers,

  When you curse them as enemies.

  First Citizen

  Care for us! True, indeed! They ne’er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there’s all the love they bear us.

  Menenius

  Either you must

  Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,

  Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you

  A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;

  But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture

  To stale ’t a little more.

  First Citizen

  Well, I’ll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an ’t please you, deliver.

  Menenius

  There was a time when all the body’s members

  Rebell’d against the belly, thus accused it:

  That only like a gulf it did remain

  I’ the midst o’ the body, idle and unactive,

  Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

  Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments

  Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,

  And, mutually participate, did minister

  Unto the appetite and affection common

  Of the whole body. The belly answer’d —

  First Citizen

  Well, sir, what answer made the belly?

  Menenius

  Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,

  Which ne’er came from the lungs, but even thus —

  For, look you, I may make the belly smile

  As well as speak — it tauntingly replied

  To the discontented members, the mutinous parts

  That envied his receipt; even so most fitly

  As you malign our senators for that

  They are not such as you.

  First Citizen

  Your belly’s answer? What!

  The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,

  The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,

  Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter.

  With other muniments and petty helps

  In this our fabric, if that they —

  Menenius

  What then?

  ’Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then?

  First Citizen

  Should by the cormorant belly be restrain’d,

  Who is the sink o’ the body,—

  Menenius

  Well, what then?

  First Citizen

  The former agents, if they did complain,

  What could the belly answer?

  Menenius

  I will tell you

  If you’ll bestow a small — of what you have little —

 

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