BRU.

We'll hear no more.

Pursue him to his house and pluck him thence,

Lest his infection, being of catching nature,

Spread further.

MEN.

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 belov'd) break out,

And sack great Rome with Romans.

BRU.

If it were so –

SIC.

What do ye talk?

Have we not had a taste of his obedience –

Our aediles smote, ourselves resisted? Come.

MEN.

Consider this: he has been bred i' th' wars

Since 'a 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.

1. SEN.

Noble tribunes,

It is the humane way. The other course

Will prove too bloody; and the end of it

Unknown to the beginning.

SIC.

Noble Menenius,

Be you then as the people's officer.

Masters, lay down your weapons.

BRU.

Go not home.

SIC.

Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there;

Where if you bring not Martius, we'll proceed

In our first way.

MEN.

I'll bring him to you.

 

[To the Senators.]

 

Let me desire your company. He must come,

Or what is worst will follow.

[1.] SEN.

Pray you let's to him.

 

Exeunt omnes.

 

 

[Scene II]

Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.

 

COR.

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.

NOBLE.

You do the nobler.

COR.

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.

VOL.

O, sir, sir, sir,

I would have had you put your power well on

Before you had worn it out.

COR.

Let go.

VOL.

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 dispos'd

Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

COR.

Let them hang!

VOL.

Ay, and burn too.

 

Enter Menenius with the Senators.

 

MEN.

Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough;

You must return and mend it.

[1.] SEN.

There's no remedy,

Unless, by not so doing, our good city

Cleave in the midst and perish.

VOL.

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.

MEN.

Well said, noble woman!

Before he should thus stoop to th' [herd], but that

The violent fit a' th' time craves it as physic

For the whole state, I would put mine armor on,

Which I can scarcely bear.

COR.

What must I do?

MEN.

Return to th' tribunes.

COR.

Well, what then? what then?

MEN.

Repent what you have spoke.

COR.

For them? I cannot do it to the gods,

Must I then do't to them?

VOL.

You are too absolute,

Though therein you can never be too noble,

But when extremities speak. I have heard you say

Honor and policy, like unsever'd 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.

COR.

Tush, tush!

MEN.

A good demand.

VOL.

If it be honor 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 honor, as in war, since that to both

It stands in like request?

COR.

Why force you this?

VOL.

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 roted in

Your tongue, though but bastards, and syllables

Of no allowance, to your bosom's truth.

Now, this no more dishonors 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 requir'd

I should do so in honor. 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.

MEN.

Noble lady!

– Come go with us, speak fair. You may salve so,

Not what is dangerous present, but the loss

Of what is past.