Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 142

by William Shakespeare


  Be not as common fools; if you are not,

  Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,

  If they be senators: and they are no less,

  When, both your voices blended, the great’st taste

  Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate,

  And such a one as he, who puts his ‘shall,’

  His popular ‘shall’ against a graver bench

  Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself!

  It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches

  To know, when two authorities are up,

  Neither supreme, how soon confusion

  May enter ’twixt the gap of both and take

  The one by the other.

  Cominius

  Well, on to the market-place.

  Coriolanus

  Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth

  The corn o’ the storehouse gratis, as ’twas used

  Sometime in Greece,—

  Menenius

  Well, well, no more of that.

  Coriolanus

  Though there the people had more absolute power,

  I say, they nourish’d disobedience, fed

  The ruin of the state.

  Brutus

  Why, shall the people give

  One that speaks thus their voice?

  Coriolanus

  I’ll give my reasons,

  More worthier than their voices. They know the corn

  Was not our recompense, resting well assured

  That ne’er did service for’t: being press’d to the war,

  Even when the navel of the state was touch’d,

  They would not thread the gates. This kind of service

  Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i’ the war

  Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show’d

  Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation

  Which they have often made against the senate,

  All cause unborn, could never be the motive

  Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?

  How shall this bisson multitude digest

  The senate’s courtesy? Let deeds express

  What’s like to be their words: ‘we did request it;

  We are the greater poll, and in true fear

  They gave us our demands.’ Thus we debase

  The nature of our seats and make the rabble

  Call our cares fears; which will in time

  Break ope the locks o’ the senate and bring in

  The crows to peck the eagles.

  Menenius

  Come, enough.

  Brutus

  Enough, with over-measure.

  Coriolanus

  No, take more:

  What may be sworn by, both divine and human,

  Seal what I end withal! This double worship,

  Where one part does disdain with cause, the other

  Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom,

  Cannot conclude but by the yea and no

  Of general ignorance,— it must omit

  Real necessities, and give way the while

  To unstable slightness: purpose so barr’d, it follows,

  Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,—

  You that will be less fearful than discreet,

  That love the fundamental part of state

  More than you doubt the change on’t, that prefer

  A noble life before a long, and wish

  To jump a body with a dangerous physic

  That’s sure of death without it, at once pluck out

  The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick

  The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour

  Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state

  Of that integrity which should become’t,

  Not having the power to do the good it would,

  For the in which doth control’t.

  Brutus

  Has said enough.

  Sicinius

  Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer

  As traitors do.

  Coriolanus

  Thou wretch, despite o’erwhelm thee!

  What should the people do with these bald tribunes?

  On whom depending, their obedience fails

  To the greater bench: in a rebellion,

  When what’s not meet, but what must be, was law,

  Then were they chosen: in a better hour,

  Let what is meet be said it must be meet,

  And throw their power i’ the dust.

  Brutus

  Manifest treason!

  Sicinius

  This a consul? no.

  Brutus

  The aediles, ho!

  Enter an Aedile

  Let him be apprehended.

  Sicinius

  Go, call the people:

  Exit Aedile

  in whose name myself

  Attach thee as a traitorous innovator,

  A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee,

  And follow to thine answer.

  Coriolanus

  Hence, old goat!

  Senators, & C We’ll surety him.

  Cominius

  Aged sir, hands off.

  Coriolanus

  Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones

  Out of thy garments.

  Sicinius

  Help, ye citizens!

  Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the Aediles

  Menenius

  On both sides more respect.

  Sicinius

  Here’s he that would take from you all your power.

  Brutus

  Seize him, Aediles!

  Citizens

  Down with him! down with him!

  Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons!

  They all bustle about Coriolanus, crying

  ‘Tribunes!’ ‘Patricians!’ ‘Citizens!’ ‘What, ho!’

  ‘Sicinius!’ ‘Brutus!’ ‘Coriolanus!’ ‘Citizens!’

  ‘Peace, peace, peace!’ ‘stay, hold, peace!’

  Menenius

  What is about to be? I am out of breath;

  Confusion’s near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes

  To the people! Coriolanus, patience!

  Speak, good Sicinius.

  Sicinius

  Hear me, people; peace!

  Citizens

  Let’s hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.

  Sicinius

  You are at point to lose your liberties:

  Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,

  Whom late you have named for consul.

  Menenius

  Fie, fie, fie!

  This is the way to kindle, not to quench.

  First Senator

  To unbuild the city and to lay all flat.

  Sicinius

  What is the city but the people?

  Citizens

  True,

  The people are the city.

  Brutus

  By the consent of all, we were establish’d

  The people’s magistrates.

  Citizens

  You so remain.

  Menenius

  And so are like to do.

  Cominius

  That is the way to lay the city flat;

  To bring the roof to the foundation,

  And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,

  In heaps and piles of ruin.

  Sicinius

  This deserves death.

  Brutus

  Or let us stand to our authority,

  Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce,

  Upon the part o’ the people, in whose power

  We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy

  Of present death.

  Sicinius

  Therefore lay hold of him;

  Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence

  Into destruction cast him.

  Brutus

  Aedil
es, seize him!

  Citizens

  Yield, Marcius, yield!

  Menenius

  Hear me one word;

  Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

  Aedile

  Peace, peace!

  Menenius

  [To Brutus] Be that you seem, truly your country’s friend,

  And temperately proceed to what you would

  Thus violently redress.

  Brutus

  Sir, those cold ways,

  That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous

  Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him,

  And bear him to the rock.

  Coriolanus

  No, I’ll die here.

  Drawing his sword

  There’s some among you have beheld me fighting:

  Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.

  Menenius

  Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile.

  Brutus

  Lay hands upon him.

  Cominius

  Help Marcius, help,

  You that be noble; help him, young and old!

  Citizens

  Down with him, down with him!

  In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Aediles, and the People, are beat in

  Menenius

  Go, get you to your house; be gone, away!

  All will be naught else.

  Second Senator

  Get you gone.

  Cominius

  Stand fast;

  We have as many friends as enemies.

  Menenius

  Sham it be put to that?

  First Senator

  The gods forbid!

  I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;

  Leave us to cure this cause.

  Menenius

  For ’tis a sore upon us,

  You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you.

  Cominius

  Come, sir, along with us.

  Coriolanus

  I would they were barbarians — as they are,

  Though in Rome litter’d — not Romans — as they are not,

  Though calved i’ the porch o’ the Capitol —

  Menenius

  Be gone;

  Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;

  One time will owe another.

  Coriolanus

  On fair ground

  I could beat forty of them.

  Cominius

  I could myself

  Take up a brace o’ the best of them; yea, the two tribunes:

  But now ’tis odds beyond arithmetic;

  And manhood is call’d foolery, when it stands

  Against a falling fabric. Will you hence,

  Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend

  Like interrupted waters and o’erbear

  What they are used to bear.

  Menenius

  Pray you, be gone:

  I’ll try whether my old wit be in request

  With those that have but little: this must be patch’d

  With cloth of any colour.

  Cominius

  Nay, come away.

  Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others

  A Patrician

  This man has marr’d his fortune.

  Menenius

  His nature is too noble for the world:

  He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

  Or Jove for’s power to thunder. His heart’s his mouth:

  What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;

  And, being angry, does forget that ever

  He heard the name of death.

  A noise within

  Here’s goodly work!

  Second Patrician

  I would they were abed!

  Menenius

  I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!

  Could he not speak ’em fair?

  Re-enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble

  Sicinius

  Where is this viper

  That would depopulate the city and

  Be every man himself?

  Menenius

  You worthy tribunes,—

  Sicinius

  He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock

  With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,

  And therefore law shall scorn him further trial

  Than the severity of the public power

  Which he so sets at nought.

  First Citizen

  He shall well know

  The noble tribunes are the people’s mouths,

  And we their hands.

  Citizens

  He shall, sure on’t.

  Menenius

  Sir, sir,—

  Sicinius

  Peace!

  Menenius

  Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt

  With modest warrant.

  Sicinius

  Sir, how comes’t that you

  Have holp to make this rescue?

  Menenius

  Hear me speak:

  As I do know the consul’s worthiness,

  So can I name his faults,—

  Sicinius

  Consul! what consul?

  Menenius

  The consul Coriolanus.

  Brutus

  He consul!

  Citizens

  No, no, no, no, no.

  Menenius

  If, by the tribunes’ leave, and yours, good people,

  I may be heard, I would crave a word or two;

  The which shall turn you to no further harm

  Than so much loss of time.

  Sicinius

  Speak briefly then;

  For we are peremptory to dispatch

  This viperous traitor: to eject him hence

  Were but one danger, and to keep him here

  Our certain death: therefore it is decreed

  He dies to-night.

  Menenius

  Now the good gods forbid

  That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude

  Towards her deserved children is enroll’d

  In Jove’s own book, like an unnatural dam

  Should now eat up her own!

  Sicinius

  He’s a disease that must be cut away.

  Menenius

  O, he’s a limb that has but a disease;

  Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.

  What has he done to Rome that’s worthy death?

  Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost —

  Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,

  By many an ounce — he dropp’d it for his country;

  And what is left, to lose it by his country,

  Were to us all, that do’t and suffer it,

  A brand to the end o’ the world.

  Sicinius

  This is clean kam.

  Brutus

  Merely awry: when he did love his country,

  It honour’d him.

  Menenius

  The service of the foot

  Being once gangrened, is not then respected

  For what before it was.

  Brutus

  We’ll hear no more.

  Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence:

  Lest his infection, being of catching nature,

  Spread further.

  Menenius

  One word more, one word.

  This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find

  The harm of unscann’d swiftness, will too late

  Tie leaden pounds to’s heels. Proceed by process;

  Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out,

  And sack great Rome with Romans.

  Brutus

  If it were so,—

  Sicinius

  What do ye talk?

  Have we not had a taste of his obedience?

  Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come.

  Menenius

  Consider this: he has been bred i’ the wars
>
  Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school’d

  In bolted language; meal and bran together

  He throws without distinction. Give me leave,

  I’ll go to him, and undertake to bring him

  Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,

  In peace, to his utmost peril.

  First Senator

  Noble tribunes,

  It is the humane way: the other course

  Will prove too bloody, and the end of it

  Unknown to the beginning.

  Sicinius

  Noble Menenius,

  Be you then as the people’s officer.

  Masters, lay down your weapons.

  Brutus

  Go not home.

  Sicinius

  Meet on the market-place. We’ll attend you there:

  Where, if you bring not Marcius, we’ll proceed

  In our first way.

  Menenius

  I’ll bring him to you.

  To the Senators

  Let me desire your company: he must come,

  Or what is worst will follow.

  First Senator

  Pray you, let’s to him.

  Exeunt

  SCENE II. A ROOM IN CORIOLANUS’S HOUSE.

  Enter Coriolanus with Patricians

  Coriolanus

  Let them puff all about mine ears, present me

  Death on the wheel or at wild horses’ heels,

  Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,

  That the precipitation might down stretch

  Below the beam of sight, yet will I still

  Be thus to them.

  A Patrician

  You do the nobler.

  Coriolanus

  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 ordinance stood up

  To speak of peace or war.

  Enter Volumnia

  I talk of you:

  Why did you wish me milder? would you have me

  False to my nature? Rather say I play

  The man I am.

  Volumnia

  O, sir, sir, sir,

  I would have had you put your power well on,

  Before you had worn it out.

  Coriolanus

  Let go.

  Volumnia

  You might have been enough the man you are,

  With striving less to be so; lesser had been

  The thwartings of your dispositions, if

  You had not show’d them how ye were disposed

  Ere they lack’d power to cross you.

  Coriolanus

  Let them hang.

  A Patrician

  Ay, and burn too.

  Enter Menenius and Senators

  Menenius

  Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough; You must return and mend it.

  First Senator

  There’s no remedy;

  Unless, by not so doing, our good city

  Cleave in the midst, and perish.

  Volumnia

  Pray, be counsell’d:

  I have a heart as little apt as yours,

  But yet a brain that leads my use of anger

 

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