The Complete Tragedies of William Shakespeare - All 12 Books in One Edition. William Shakespeare

If I say fine, cry ‘Fine!’- if death, cry ‘Death;’

       Insisting on the old prerogative

       And power i’ the truth o’ the cause.

       AEDILE.

       I shall inform them.

       BRUTUS.

       And when such time they have begun to cry,

       Let them not cease, but with a din confus’d

       Enforce the present execution

       Of what we chance to sentence.

       AEDILE.

       Very well.

       SICINIUS.

       Make them be strong, and ready for this hint,

       When we shall hap to give’t them.

       BRUTUS.

       Go about it.

       [Exit AEDILE.]

       Put him to choler straight: he hath been us’d

       Ever to conquer, and to have his worth

       Of contradiction; being once chaf’d, he cannot

       Be rein’d again to temperance; then he speaks

       What’s in his heart; and that is there which looks

       With us to break his neck.

       SICINIUS.

       Well, here he comes.

       [Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, Senators, and Patricians.]

       MENENIUS.

       Calmly, I do beseech you.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece

       Will bear the knave by the volume.—The honoured gods

       Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice

       Supplied with worthy men! plant love among’s!

       Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,

       And not our streets with war!

       FIRST SENATOR.

       Amen, amen!

       MENENIUS.

       A noble wish.

       [Re-enter the AEDILE, with Citizens.]

       SICINIUS.

       Draw near, ye people.

       AEDILE.

       List to your tribunes; audience: peace, I say!

       CORIOLANUS.

       First, hear me speak.

       BOTH TRIBUNES.

       Well, say.—Peace, ho!

       CORIOLANUS.

       Shall I be charg’d no further than this present?

       Must all determine here?

       SICINIUS.

       I do demand,

       If you submit you to the people’s voices,

       Allow their officers, and are content

       To suffer lawful censure for such faults

       As shall be proved upon you.

       CORIOLANUS.

       I am content.

       MENENIUS.

       Lo, citizens, he says he is content:

       The warlike service he has done, consider; think

       Upon the wounds his body bears, which show

       Like graves i’ the holy churchyard.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Scratches with briers,

       Scars to move laughter only.

       MENENIUS.

       Consider further,

       That when he speaks not like a citizen,

       You find him like a soldier: do not take

       His rougher accents for malicious sounds,

       But, as I say, such as become a soldier,

       Rather than envy you.

       COMINIUS.

       Well, well, no more.

       CORIOLANUS.

       What is the matter,

       That being pass’d for consul with full voice,

       I am so dishonour’d that the very hour

       You take it off again?

       SICINIUS.

       Answer to us.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Say then: ‘tis true, I ought so.

       SICINIUS.

       We charge you that you have contriv’d to take

       From Rome all season’d office, and to wind

       Yourself into a power tyrannical;

       For which you are a traitor to the people.

       CORIOLANUS.

       How! traitor!

       MENENIUS.

       Nay, temperately; your promise.

       CORIOLANUS.

       The fires i’ the lowest hell fold in the people!

       Call me their traitor!—Thou injurious tribune!

       Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,

       In thy hands clutch’d as many millions, in

       Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say,

       Thou liest unto thee with a voice as free

       As I do pray the gods.

       SICINIUS.

       Mark you this, people?

       CITIZENS.

       To the rock, to the rock, with him!

       SICINIUS.

       Peace!

       We need not put new matter to his charge:

       What you have seen him do and heard him speak,

       Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,

       Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying

       Those whose great power must try him; even this,

       So criminal and in such capital kind,

       Deserves the extremest death.

       BRUTUS.

       But since he hath

       Serv’d well for Rome,—

       CORIOLANUS.

       What do you prate of service?

       BRUTUS.

       I talk of that that know it.

       CORIOLANUS.

       You?

       MENENIUS.

       Is this the promise that you made your mother?

       COMINIUS.

       Know, I pray you,—

       CORIOLANUS.

       I’ll know no further:

       Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,

       Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger

       But with a grain a day, I would not buy

       Their mercy at the price of one fair word,

       Nor check my courage for what they can give,

       To have’t with saying Good-morrow.

       SICINIUS.

       For that he has,—

       As much