« AnteriorContinuar »
To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars
Cor. That's my brave boy.
Your knee, sirrah.
Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
Are suitors to you.
I beseech you, peace:
The things, I have forsworn to grant, may never
Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
Again with Rome's mechanicks :-Tell me not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.
O, no more, no more!
You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow,
flaw, gust, storm.
Fail to grant us our request.
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
With manacles thorough our streets, or else
These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
He shall not tread on me;
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us, As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say, This mercy we have showed; the Romans,
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd
determine, close, end. [COR. 106]
To both Romans and Volcians.
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
That should but rive an oak.' Why dost not speak? Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?-Daughter, speak you :
Than can our reasons.-There's no man in the world
The meaning is, to threaten much and yet be merciful. Keeps me in a state of ignominy, talking to no purpose. 3 reason, advocate.
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
O mother, mother! [Holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, silent. What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome: But, for your son,—believe it, O, believe it, Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him. But, let it come :Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was mov'd withal.
Cor. I dare be sworn, you were : And, sir, it is no little thing, to make Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part, I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, Stand to me in this cause.-O mother! wife!
Auf. I am glad, thou has set thy mercy and thy honour
At difference in thee: out of that I'll work'
[Aside. [The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS. Ay, by and by;
[TO VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c. But we will drink together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve To have a temple built you: all the swords
I will take advantage of this concession to restore myself to my former credit and power.
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.
SCENE IV.-Rome. A publick place.
Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS.
Men. See you yond' coign o' th' Capitol; yond' corner-stone?
Sic. Why, what of that?
Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.
Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?
Men. There is differency between a grub, and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.
Sic. He loved his mother dearly.
Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight-year old horse.' The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.
Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.
Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of
Remembers his dam subintelligitur.