Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand
The grandchild to her blood. But out, affection!
All bond and privilege of nature, break!

Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.

What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am

not

Of stronger earth than others.

My mother bows;

As if Olympus to a molehill should
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great nature cries' Deny not.'

Let the Volsces

Plough Rome, and harrow Italy: I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand,
As if a man were author of himself

And knew no other kin.

Vir.

My lord and husband!

Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in
Rome.

Vir. The sorrow that delivers us thus changed
Makes you think so.

Cor.

Like a dull actor now,

I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say
For that 'Forgive our Romans.'

O, a kiss

Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,

And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted sink, my knee, i' the earth;

Of thy deep duty more impression show

[Kneels.

50

46. the jealous queen of heaven. Juno among the Romans presided over marriage rites.

Than that of common sons.

Vol.

O, stand up blest!
Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,

I kneel before thee; and unproperly
Show duty, as mistaken all this while
Between the child and parent.

Cor.

[Kneels.

What is this?

Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murdering impossibility, to make

What cannot be, slight work.

Vol.

Thou art my warrior;
I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle
That's curdied by the frost from purest snow
And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria!
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,

Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

Cor.

60

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst

prove

To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,

And saving those that eye thee!

Vol.

Cor. That's my brave boy!

Your knee, sirrah.

Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,

65. The moon of Rome. Luna was identified with Diana and was hence the goddess of chastity. The chaste,' 'cold'

moon belongs to classic, the 'fickle' ('lunish') moon to mediæval, folklore.

74. flaw, gust of wind.

Are suitors to you.

Cor.

I beseech you, peace:

Or, if you 'ld ask, remember this before:

The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not

To allay my rages and revenges with
Your colder reasons.

Vol.

O, no more, no more!

You have said you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we 'll
Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our
raiment

And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
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;

Making the mother, wife and child to see
The son, the husband and the father tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us

80. The thing I have forsworn, etc.; i.e. in saying no, I shall not be refusing your re

80

90

100

quest, as such, but merely observing my oath to refuse any. 82. capitulate, negotiate.

Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
Alas, how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles thorough our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
And bear the palm for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune till

110

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee 120 Rather to show a noble grace to both parts

Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner

March to assault thy country than to tread

Trust to 't, thou shalt not-on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

Vir.

Ay, and mine,

That brought you forth this boy, to keep your

name

Living to time.

Young Mar. A' shall not tread on me;
I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.

Vol.

130

[Rising.

Nay, go not from us thus.

If it were so that our request did tend

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy

The Volsces whom you serve, you might con

demn us,

120. determine, are decided or ended.

As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the
Romans,

'This we received;' and each in either side

Give the all-hail to thee, and cry 'Be blest

For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great

son,

The end of war 's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit,
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ: The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
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:
He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons. There's no man in the
world

More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me

prate

140

150

Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life 160
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,

When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request 's unjust,
152. charge. So Theobald for Ff 'change.'