CORIOLANUS
Let them pull 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.
FIRST 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.
CORIOLANUS
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 showed them how were disposed
they lacked power to cross you.
CORIOLANUS
Let them hang!
VOLUMNIA
Ay, and burn too.
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 counselled.
I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
To better vantage.
MENENIUS
Well said, noble woman.
Before he should thus stoop to th’ herd—but that
The violent fit o’ th’ time craves it as physic
For the whole state—I would put mine armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.
CORIOLANUS
What must I do?
MENENIUS
Return to th’ Tribunes.
CORIOLANUS
Well, what then? What then?
MENENIUS
Repent what you have spoke.
CORIOLANUS
For them? I cannot do it to the gods.
Must I then do’t to them?
VOLUMNIA
You are too absolute,
Though therein you can never be too noble
But when extremities speak. I have heard you say
Honour and policy, like unsevered friends,
I’ th’ war do grow together. Grant that, and tell me
In peace what each of them by th’ other lose
That they combine not there.
CORIOLANUS
Tush, tush!
MENENIUS
A good demand.
VOLUMNIA
If it be honour in your wars to seem
The same you are not, which for your best ends
You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse
That it shall hold companionship in peace
With honour as in war, since that to both
It stands in like request?
CORIOLANUS
Why force you this?
VOLUMNIA
Because that now it lies you on to speak
To th’ people, not by your own instruction,
Nor by th’ matter which your heart prompts you,
But with such words that are but rooted in
Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom’s truth.
Now, this no more dishonours you at all
Than to take in a town with gentle words,
Which else would put you to your fortune and
The hazard of much blood.
I would dissemble with my nature where
My fortunes and my friends at stake required
I should do so in honour. I am in this
Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you will rather show our general louts
How you can frown than spend a fawn upon ’em
For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
Of what that want might ruin.
MENENIUS
Noble lady!—
Come, go with us; speak fair. You may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.
VOLUMNIA
I now, my son,
Go to them with this bonnet in hand,
And thus far having stretched it—here be with them—
knee bussing the stones—for in such busines
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant
More learned than the ears—waving head,
Which often thus correcting stout heart,
Now humble as the ripest mulberry
That will not hold the handling. Or say to them
art their soldier and, being bred in broils,
not the soft way, which confess
Were fit for to use, as they to claim,
In asking their good loves; but wilt frame
Thyself, , hereafter theirs, so far
As power and person.
MENENIUS
This but done
Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
For they have pardons, being asked, as free
As words to little purpose.
VOLUMNIA
now,
Go, and be ruled; although I know hadst rather
Follow enemy in a fiery gulf
Than flatter him in a bower.
VOLUMNIA
Here is Cominius.
COMINIUS
I have been i’ th’ marketplace; and, sir, fit
You make strong party or defend yourself
By calmness or by absence. All’s in anger.
MENENIUS
Only fair speech.
COMINIUS
I think ’twill serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.
VOLUMNIA
He must, and will.—
, now, say you will, and go about it.
CORIOLANUS
Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? Must I
With my base tongue give to my noble heart
A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do’t.
Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
This mould of Martius, they to dust should grind it
And throw’t against the wind. To th’ marketplace!
You have put me now to such a part which never
I shall discharge to th’ life.
COMINIUS
Come, come, we’ll prompt you.
VOLUMNIA
I now, sweet son, as said
My praises made first a soldier, so,
To have my praise for this, perform a part
not done before.
CORIOLANUS
Well, I must do’t.
Away, my disposition, and possess me
Some harlot’s spirit! My throat of war be turned,
Which choired with my drum, into a pipe
Small as an eunuch or the virgin voice
That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves
Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys’ tears take up
The glasses of my sight! A beggar’s tongue
Make motion through my lips, and my armed knees,
Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his
That received an alms! I will not do’t,
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
And, by my body’s action, teach my mind
A most inherent baseness.
VOLUMNIA
At choice, then.
To beg of , it is my more dishonour
Than of them. Come all to ruin. Let
mother rather feel pride than fear
dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
With as big heart as . Do as list.
valiantness was mine; suck’dst it from me,
But owe pride thyself.
CORIOLANUS
Pray, be content.
Mother, I am going to the marketplace.
Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves,
Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved
Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going.
Commend me to my wife. I’ll return consul,
Or never trust to what my tongue can do
I’ th’ way of flattery further.
VOLUMNIA
Do your will.
COMINIUS
Away! The Tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself
To answer mildly, for they are prepared
With accusations, as I hear, more strong
Than are upon you yet.
CORIOLANUS
The word is “mildly.” Pray you, let us go.
Let them accuse me by invention, I
Will answer in mine honour.
MENENIUS
Ay, but mildly.
CORIOLANUS
Well, mildly be it, then. Mildly.