I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be As if I loved, my little should be dieted In praises sauc'd with lies. Com. Too modest are you; More cruel to your good report, than grateful If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you (Like one that means his proper harm,) in manacles, With all the applause and clamour of the host, Bear the addition nobly ever! [Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums. All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus ! Cor. I will go wash; And when my face is fair, you shall perceive To the fairness of my power. Com. So, to our tent: Where, ere we do repose us, we will write 7 The best, with whom we may articulate, For their own good, and ours. [5] It should be remembered, that the personal him, is not unfrequently used by our author, and other writers of his age, instead of it, the neuter; and that overture, in its musical sense, is not so ancient as the age of Shakspeare. STEEV. When steel grows soft as silk, let silk be suddenly con verted to the use of war. Overture, was used by the writers of Shakspeare's time in the sense of prelude or preparation. MAL. WARB, [6] A phrase from heraldry, signifying, that he would endeavour to sup port his good opinion of him.- -Fairness for utmost. JOHNS STEEV. [7] The chief men of Corioli. 11 Lart. I shall, my lord. Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I that now Com. Take it 'tis your's.-What is't? Com. O, well begg'd! Were he the butcher of my son, he should Cor. By Jupiter, forgot : I am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.- Com. Go we to our tent: The blood upon your visage dries: 'tis time It should be look'd to: come. [Exeunt SCENE X. Cornets. Enter TULLUS The Camp of the Volces. A Flourish. AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers. Auf. The town is ta'en ! 1 Sol. Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. Auf. Condition?. I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot, Being a Volce, be that I am.-Condition! I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me ; If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, Hath not that honour in't, it had; for where I thought to crush him in an equal force, True sword to sword,) I'll potch at him some way;7 Or wrath, or craft, may get him. 1 Sol. He's the devil. [7] Potch, in used in the midland counties for a rough, violent push.STE. The modern word poke is only a hard pronunciation of this word. MAL Auf. Bolder, tho' not so subtle: My valour's poison'd, With only suffering stain by him; for him Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep, nor sanctuary, Wash my fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city; 1 Sol. Will not you go? Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove; I pray you, (Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it I may spur on my journey. 1 Sol. I shall, sir. ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE 1.-Rome. A public Place. Enter MENENIUS, SICIN IUS, and BRUTUS. Menenius. THE augurer tells me, we shall have news to-night. Bru. Good, or bad? Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius. Sic. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. Sic. The lamb. Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius. Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear, indeed, that lives like a lamb. You are two old men ; tell me one thing that I shall ask you. F] To mischief him, my valour should deviate from its own native generosity. JOHNS. [2] In my own house, with my brother posted to protect him. JOHNS. [3] Attended-that is, waited for. STEEV. [4] When the tribune, in reply to Menenius's remark, of the people's hate of Coriolanus, had observed that even beasts know their friends, Menenius asks, whom does the wolf love? implying that there are beasts which love nobody, and that among those beasts are the people. JOHNS. Both Trib. Well, sir. Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you two have not in abundance ? Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. Sic. Especially, in pride. Bru. And topping all others in boasting. Men. This is strange now: Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the right-hand file? Do you? Both Trib. Why, how are we censur'd? Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry? Both Trib. Well, well, sir, well. Men. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience : give your disposition the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud? Bru. We do it not alone, sir. Men. I know, you can do very little alone; for your helps are many; or else your actions would grow wondrous single your abilities are too infant-like, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: O, that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could! Bru. What then, sir? Men. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates (alias, fools,) as any in Rome. Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty, and tinder-like, upon too trivial motion: one that converses more with the buttock of the night, than with the forehead of the morning. What I think, I utter; and spend my malice in my breath: Meeting two such weals-men as you are, (I cannot call you Lycurguses,) if the drink you gave me, touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked 6 [5] With allusion to the fable, which says, that every man has a bag hang. ing before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him, in which he stows his own. JOHNS. [6] Rather a late lier down, than an early riser. JOHNS. face at it. I cannot say,your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables: and though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men; yet they lie deadly, that tell, you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it, that I am known well enough too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too? Bru. Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs; you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and a fosset-seller; and then rejourn the controversy of three-pence to a second day of audience.-When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the colic, you make faces like mummers; set up the bloody flag against all patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing all the peace you make in their cause, is, calling both the parties knaves: You are a pair of strange ones. Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table, than a necessary bencher in the Capitol. Men. Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave, as to stuff a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion; though, peradventure, some of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. Good e'en to your worships; more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians; I will be bold to take my leave of you. [BRUTUS and SICINIUS retire to the back of the scene. MAL. [8] That is, for their obeisance showed by bowing to you. [9] It appears from this whole speech that Shakspeare mistook the office of præfectus urbis for the tribune's office. WARB. [1] That is, declare war against patience. There is not wit enough in this satire to recompense its grossness. JOHNS. |