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

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


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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,

       In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame

       Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far

       As thou hast power and person.

       MENENIUS.

       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.

       VOLUMNIA.

       Pr’ythee now,

       Go, and be rul’d; although I know thou had’st rather

       Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf

       Than flatter him in a bower.

       [Enter COMINIUS.]

       Here is Cominius.

       COMINIUS.

       I have been i’ the marketplace; and, sir, ‘tis fit

       You make strong party, or defend yourself

       By calmness or by absence: all’s in anger.

       MENENIUS.

       Only fair speech.

       COMINIUS.

       I think ‘twill serve, if he

       Can thereto frame his spirit.

       VOLUMNIA.

       He must, and will.—

       Pr’ythee now, say you will, and go about it.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Must I go show them my unbarb’d sconce? must I

       With my base tongue, give to 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 marketplace:—

       You have put me now to such a part which never

       I shall discharge to the life.

       COMINIUS.

       Come, come, we’ll prompt you.

       VOLUMNIA.

       I pr’ythee now, sweet son,—as thou hast said

       My praises made thee first a soldier, so,

       To have my praise for this, perform a part

       Thou hast not done before.

       CORIOLANUS.

       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 receiv’d 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.

       VOLUMNIA.

       At thy choice, then:

       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.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Pray, be content:

       Mother, I am going to the marketplace;

       Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves,

       Cog their hearts from them, and come home belov’d

       Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going.

       Commend me to my wife. I’ll return consul;

       Or never trust to what my tongue can do

       I’ the way of flattery further.

       VOLUMNIA.

       Do your will.

       [Exit.]

       COMINIUS.

       Away! The tribunes do attend you: arm yourself

       To answer mildly; for they are prepar’d

       With accusations, as I hear, more strong

       Than are upon you yet.

       CORIOLANUS.

       The word is, mildly.—Pray you let us go:

       Let them accuse me by invention, I

       Will answer in mine honour.

       MENENIUS.

       Ay, but mildly.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Well, mildly be it then; mildly.

       [Exeunt.]

       SCENE III. Rome. The Forum.

       [Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.]

       BRUTUS.

       In this point charge him home, that he affects

       Tyrannical power: if he evade us there,

       Enforce him with his envy to the people;

       And that the spoil got on the Antiates

       Was ne’er distributed.

       [Enter an AEDILE.]

       What, will he come?

       AEDILE.

       He’s coming.

       BRUTUS.

       How accompanied?

       AEDILE.

       With old Menenius, and those senators

       That always favour’d him.

       SICINIUS.

       Have you a catalogue

       Of all the voices that we have procur’d,

       Set down by the poll?

       AEDILE.

       I have; ‘tis ready.

       SICINIUS.

       Have you collected them by tribes?

       AEDILE.

       I have.

       SICINIUS.

       Assemble presently the people hither:

       And when they hear me say ‘It shall be so

       I’ the right and strength o’ the commons,’ be it either

      


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