SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the
city
Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome
CORIOLANUS
Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast
With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage? you were used
To say extremity was the trier of spirits;
That common chances common men could bear;
That when the sea was calm all boats alike
Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows,
When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves
A noble cunning: you were used to load me
With precepts that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.
VIRGILIA
O heavens! O heavens!
CORIOLANUS
Nay! prithee, woman,--
VOLUMNIA
Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,
And occupations perish!
CORIOLANUS
What, what, what!
I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother.
Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say,
If you had been the wife of Hercules,
Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved
Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,
Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother:
I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,
Thy tears are salter than a younger man's,
And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general,
I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld
Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women
'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes,
As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well
My hazards still have been your solace: and
Believe't not lightly--though I go alone,
Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen
Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son
Will or exceed the common or be caught
With cautelous baits and practise.
VOLUMNIA
My first son.
Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
With thee awhile: determine on some course,
More than a wild exposure to each chance
That starts i' the way before thee.
CORIOLANUS
O the gods!
COMINIUS
I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee
Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us
And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth
A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
O'er the vast world to seek a single man,
And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
I' the absence of the needer.
CORIOLANUS
Fare ye well:
Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full
Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one
That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate.
Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,
Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come.
While I remain above the ground, you shall
Hear from me still, and never of me aught
But what is like me formerly.
MENENIUS
That's worthily
As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
If I could shake off but one seven years
From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
I'd with thee every foot.
CORIOLANUS
Give me thy hand: Come.
Exeunt
SCENE II. The same. A street near the
gate
Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an Aedile
SICINIUS
Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further.
The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided
In his behalf.
BRUTUS
Now we have shown our power,
Let us seem humbler after it is done
Than when it was a-doing.
SICINIUS
Bid them home:
Say their great enemy is gone, and they
Stand in their ancient strength.
BRUTUS
Dismiss them home.
Exit Aedile
Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS
Here comes his mother.
SICINIUS
Let's not meet her.
BRUTUS
Why?
SICINIUS
They say she's mad.
BRUTUS
They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way.
VOLUMNIA
O, you're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods
Requite your love!
MENENIUS
Peace, peace; be not so loud.
VOLUMNIA
If that I could for weeping, you should hear,--
Nay, and you shall hear some.
[To BRUTUS]
Will you be gone?
VIRGILIA
[To SICINIUS] You shall stay too: I would I had the power
To say so to my husband.
SICINIUS
Are you mankind?
VOLUMNIA
Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool.
Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship
To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
Than thou hast spoken words?
SICINIUS
O blessed heavens!
VOLUMNIA
More noble blows than ever thou wise words;
And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go:
Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son
Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,
His good sword in his hand.
SICINIUS
What then?
VIRGILIA
What then!
He'd make an end of thy posterity.
VOLUMNIA
Bastards and all.
Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
MENENIUS
Come, come, peace.
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