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Coriolanus
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  • ACT III SCENE II

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II 
     Act I   Scene III 
     Act I   Scene IV 
     Act I   Scene V 
     Act I   Scene VI
     Act I   Scene VII 
     Act I   Scene VIII 
     Act I   Scene IX
     Act I   Scene X 
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II 
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act III Scene I
    
     Act III Scene II 
     Act III Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene I  
     Act IV  Scene II 
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene IV 
     Act IV  Scene V 
     Act IV  Scene VI 
     Act IV  Scene VII 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Act V   Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene V 
     Act V   Scene VI
     Complete play


     Act III 

    
    ACT III: 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
    	To better vantage.
    
    MENENIUS	                  Well said, noble woman?
    	Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that
    	The violent fit o' the 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 the 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 unsever'd friends,
    	I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me,
    	In peace what each of them by the 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 the people; not by your own instruction,
    	Nor by the 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 prithee now, my son,
    	Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;
    	And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them--
    	Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business
    	Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
    	More learned than the ears--waving thy head,
    	Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
    	Now humble as the ripest mulberry
    	That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
    	Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
    	Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,
    	Were fit for thee to use as they to claim,
    	In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
    	Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far
    	As thou hast power and person.
    
    MENENIUS	This but done,
    	Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
    	For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free
    	As words to little purpose.
    
    VOLUMNIA	Prithee now,
    	Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather
    	Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
    	Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.
    
    	Enter COMINIUS
    
    COMINIUS	I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis 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
    	Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.
    
    CORIOLANUS	Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce?
    	Must I with base tongue give 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 Marcius, they to dust should grind it
    	And throw't against the wind. To the market-place!
    	You have put me now to such a part which never
    	I shall discharge to the life.
    
    COMINIUS	Come, come, we'll prompt you.
    
    VOLUMNIA	I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said
    	My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
    	To have my praise for this, perform a part
    	Thou hast not done before.
    
    CORIOLANUS	Well, I must do't:
    	Away, my disposition, and possess me
    	Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd,
    	Which quired 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 arm'd knees,
    	Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his
    	That hath 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 thy choice, then:
    	To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
    	Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
    	Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
    	Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
    	With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list
    	Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me,
    	But owe thy pride thyself.
    
    CORIOLANUS	Pray, be content:
    	Mother, I am going to the market-place;
    	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' the way of flattery further.
    
    VOLUMNIA	Do your will.
    
    	Exit
    
    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!
    
    	Exeunt
    
    
    

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