Cor. I'll give my reasons, The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express What's like to be their words: "We did request it; They gave us our demands." Thus we debase The nature of our seats, and make the rabble Call our cares, fears; which will in time break ope To peck the eagles. Men. Come, enough. No, take more: Bru. Enough, with over-measure. What may be sworn by, both divine and human, Seal what I end withal! This double worship, Where one part does disdain with cause, the other Insult without all reason; where gentry, title, wisdom, Cannot conclude, but by the yea and no Of general ignorance, it must omit Real necessities, and give way the while To unstable slightness. Purpose so barr'd, it follows, Nothing is done to purpose: therefore, beseech you, You that will be less fearful than discreet, That love the fundamental part of state, More than you doubt the change on 't, that prefer To jump a body with a dangerous physic Bru. He has said enough. Sic. He has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer As traitors do. Cor. Thou wretch! despite o'erwhelm thee! What should the people do with these bald tribunes? To the greater bench. In a rebellion, When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, Let what is meet, be said, it must be meet, And throw their power i' the dust. Manifest treason. Bru. Sic. Go, call the people; [Exit Ædile.] in whose name, myself Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, A foe to the public weal. Obey, I charge thee, And follow to thine answer. Cor. Sen. We'll surety him. Com. Hence, old goat! Aged Sir, hands off. Cor. Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones Re-enter the Edile, with others, and a Rabble of Citizens. Men. On both sides more respect. Weapons! weapons! weapons! [They all bustle about CORIOLANUS Tribunes, patricians, citizens! - what ho! Cit. Peace, peace, peace! stay, hold, peace! Men. What is about to be? - I am out of breath; Confusion's near: I cannot speak. You, tribunes To the people, Coriolanus, patience: Speak, good Sicinius. Sic. Hear me! people, peace! Cit. Let's hear our tribune: Peace! Speak, speak, speak. - Sic. You are at point to lose your liberties: Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, Whom late you have nam'd for consul. Men. Fie, fie, fie! This is the way to kindle, not to quench. Cit. The people are the city. True, Bru. By the consent of all, we were establish'd The people's magistrates. Cit. You so remain. Men. And so are like to do. Com. That is the way to lay the city flat; To bring the roof to the foundation, And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, In heaps and piles of ruin. Sic. This deserves death. Bru. Or let us stand to our authority, Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, Upon the part o' the people, in whose power We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy Of present death. Sic. Therefore, lay hold of him. Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence Bru. Adiles, seize him. Hear me one word. Cit. Yield, Marcius, yield. Men. Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. Edi. Peace, peace! Men. Be that you seem, truly your country's friend, And temperately proceed to what you would Thus violently redress. There's some among you have beheld me fighting: Men. Down with that sword! - Tribunes, withdraw a while. Men. Help Marcius, help, You that be noble; help him, young, and old! Cit. Men. Down with him! down with him! [In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ediles, and the People, are beat in. Go, get you to your house: be gone, away! All will be naught else. I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house; Men. You cannot tent yourself. For 't is a sore upon us, Begone, 'beseech you. Com. Come, Sir, along with us. Men. I would they were barbarians, as they are, Though in Rome litter'd, not Romans, as they are not, Though calv'd i' the porch o' the Capitol! Put not your worthy rage into your tongue: Cor. I could beat forty of them. Men. On fair ground, I could myself Be gone; Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two tribunes. Com. But now 't is odds beyond arithmetic; And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands Men. Pray you, be gone. I'll try whether my old wit be in request Com. 1 Pat. Nay, come away. [Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and Others. This man has marr'd his fortune. Men. His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for 's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: He heard the name of death. Here's goodly work! 2 Part. [4 noise within. What, the vengeance, I would they were a-bed! Men. I would they were in Tyber! Could he not speak them fair? |