Shakespeare's First Folio Part 465

Cornets. Enter Coriola.n.u.s, Menenius, all the Gentry, Cominius, t.i.tus Latius, and other Senators.

Corio. Tullus Auffidius then had made new head

Latius. He had, my Lord, and that it was which caus'd Our swifter Composition

Corio. So then the Volces stand but as at first, Readie when time shall prompt them, to make roade Vpon's againe

Com. They are worne (Lord Consull) so, That we shall hardly in our ages see Their Banners waue againe

Corio. Saw you Auffidius?

Latius. On safegard he came to me, and did curse Against the Volces, for they had so vildly Yeelded the Towne: he is retyred to Antium

Corio. Spoke he of me?

Latius. He did, my Lord

Corio. How? what?

Latius. How often he had met you Sword to Sword: That of all things vpon the Earth, he hated Your person most: That he would p.a.w.ne his fortunes To hopelesse rest.i.tution, so he might Be call'd your Vanquisher

Corio. At Antium liues he?

Latius. At Antium

Corio. I wish I had a cause to seeke him there, To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.

Enter Scicinius and Brutus.

Behold, these are the Tribunes of the People, The Tongues o'th' Common Mouth. I do despise them: For they doe pranke them in Authoritie, Against all n.o.ble sufferance

Scicin. Pa.s.se no further

Cor. Hah? what is that?

Brut. It will be dangerous to goe on- No further

Corio. What makes this change?

Menen. The matter?

Com. Hath he not pa.s.s'd the n.o.ble, and the Common?

Brut. Cominius, no

Corio. Haue I had Childrens Voyces?

Senat. Tribunes giue way, he shall toth' Market place

Brut. The People are incens'd against him

Scicin. Stop, or all will fall in broyle

Corio. Are these your Heard?

Must these haue Voyces, that can yeeld them now, And straight disclaim their toungs? what are your Offices?

You being their Mouthes, why rule you not their Teeth?

Haue you not set them on?

Mene. Be calme, be calme

Corio. It is a purpos'd thing, and growes by Plot, To curbe the will of the n.o.bilitie: Suffer't, and liue with such as cannot rule, Nor euer will be ruled

Brut. Call't not a Plot: The People cry you mockt them: and of late, When Corne was giuen them gratis, you repin'd, Scandal'd the Suppliants: for the People, call'd them Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to n.o.blenesse

Corio. Why this was knowne before

Brut. Not to them all

Corio. Haue you inform'd them sithence?

Brut. How? I informe them?

Com. You are like to doe such businesse

Brut. Not vnlike each way to better yours

Corio. Why then should I be Consull? by yond Clouds Let me deserue so ill as you, and make me Your fellow Tribune

Scicin. You shew too much of that, For which the People stirre: if you will pa.s.se To where you are bound, you must enquire your way, Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, Or neuer be so n.o.ble as a Consull, Nor yoake with him for Tribune

Mene. Let's be calme

Com. The People are abus'd: set on, this paltring Becomes not Rome: nor ha's Coriola.n.u.s Deseru'd this so dishonor'd Rub, layd falsely I'th' plaine Way of his Merit

Corio. Tell me of Corne: this was my speech, And I will speak't againe

Mene. Not now, not now

Senat. Not in this heat, Sir, now

Corio. Now as I liue, I will.

My n.o.bler friends, I craue their pardons: For the mutable ranke-sented Meynie, Let them regard me, as I doe not flatter, And therein behold themselues: I say againe, In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our Senate The c.o.c.kle of Rebellion, Insolence, Sedition, Which we our selues haue plowed for, sow'd, & scatter'd, By mingling them with vs, the honor'd Number, Who lack not Vertue, no, nor Power, but that Which they haue giuen to Beggers

Mene. Well, no more

Senat. No more words, we beseech you

Corio. How? no more?

As for my Country, I haue shed my blood, Not fearing outward force: So shall my Lungs Coine words till their decay, against those Meazels Which we disdaine should Tetter vs, yet sought The very way to catch them

Bru. You speake a'th' people, as if you were a G.o.d, To punish; Not a man, of their Infirmity

Sicin. 'Twere well we let the people know't

Mene. What, what? His Choller?

Cor. Choller? Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, By Ioue, 'twould be my minde

Sicin. It is a minde that shall remain a poison Where it is: not poyson any further

Corio. Shall remaine?

Heare you this Triton of the Minnoues? Marke you His absolute Shall?