Enter VOLUMNIA.

I talk of you:

Why did you wish me milder? would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say I play

I would have had you put your power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor.

Let go.

Vol. You might have been enough the man

you are,

With striving less to be so: lesser had been

The thwartings of your dispositions, if

You had not show'd them how ye were disposed
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor.

Vol. Ay, and burn too.

Let them hang.

Enter MENENIUS and Senators.

Men. Come, come, you have been too rough,

something too rough;

You must return and mend it.

First Sen.

Unless, by not so doing, our good city

There's no remedy;

Pray, be counsell'd:

Cleave in the midst, and perish.

Vol.

I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
To better vantage.

20

30

as

the plebeians as much Coriolanus can, but she would choose her own time to show her wrath. Cf. 11. 29 and 62. Cf. also Menenius in iii. 1. 262 for a similar attitude.

Men.

Well said, noble woman!
Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that
The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic
For the whole state, I would put mine armour on
Which I can scarcely bear.

Cor.

What must I do?

Men. Return to the tribunes.

Cor.

Well, what then? what then?

Men. Repent what you have spoke.

Cor. For them! I cannot do it to the gods;
Must I then do 't to them?

Vol.
You are too absolute;
Though therein you can never be too noble,
But when extremities speak. I have heard you say,
Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,

I' the war do grow together: grant that, and

tell me,

In peace what each of them by the other lose,
That they combine not there.

Cor.

Men.

Tush, tush!

A good demand.

Vol. If it be honour in your wars to seem
The same you are not, which, for your best ends,
You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse,
That it shall hold companionship in peace

With honour, as in war, since that to both
It stands in like request?

Cor.

Why force you this?
Vol. Because that now it lies you on to speak
To the people; not by your own instruction,
Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
But with such words that are but roted in

Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom's truth.
Now, this no more dishonours you at all

55. roted, learnt by heart, not spontaneous.

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50

Than to take in a town with gentle words,
Which else would put you to your fortune and
The hazard of much blood.

I would dissemble with my nature where
My fortunes and my friends at stake required
I should do so in honour: I am in this,
Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you will rather show our general louts
How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em,
For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
Of what that want might ruin.

Men.

Noble lady!

Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.

Vol.

I prithee now, my son,

Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;

And thus far having stretch'd it-here be with
them-

Thy knee bussing the stones-for in such business
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
More learned than the ears-waving thy head,
Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
Now humble as the ripest mulberry

That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,
Were fit for thee to use as they to claim,

69. that want, the want of that inheritance.

75. bussing, kissing.

77. waving, repeatedly bowing.

78. Which often, thus, correcting, etc. If the text is right, 'humble' must be an imperative. 'Humble (your

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70

80

head), correcting thy pride with submissive gestures, like these.' The passage barely yields sense; but of the many alterations proposed (such as Johnson's 'with for which') none can be called convincing. Prof. Littledale proposes instead of ' often,' 'offer' (as if for decapitation).

In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far

As thou hast power and person.

Men.

This but done,

Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free

As words to little purpose.

Vol.

Prithee now,

Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst

rather

Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf

Than flatter him in a bower.

90

Here is Cominius.

Enter COMINIUS.

Com. I have been i' the market-place; and, sir, 'tis fit

You make strong party, or defend yourself

By calmness or by absence: all's in anger.
Men. Only fair speech.

Com.

I think 'twill serve, if he

Can thereto frame his spirit.

Vol.
He must, and will.
Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.

Cor. Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce?
Must I with base tongue give my noble heart
A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do 't:
Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it
And throw't against the wind. To the market-
place!

You have put me now to such a part which never
I shall discharge to the life.

Com.

Come, come, we 'll prompt you.
Vol. I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said

99. unbarbed sconce head

without a helmet.

100

102. this single plot, my

single person.

My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
To have my praise for this, perform a part
Thou hast not done before.

Cor.

Well, I must do 't :

Away, my disposition, and possess me

Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd,
Which quired with my drum, into a pipe

Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice

That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves
Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up
The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue
Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees,
Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his
That hath received an alms! I will not do 't,
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
And by my body's action teach my mind
A most inherent baseness.

At thy choice, then:

Vol.
To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list.
Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me,
But owe thy pride thyself.

Cor.

Pray, be content:

Mother, I am going to the market-place;

Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves,
Cog their hearts from them, and come home

beloved

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