Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, Not what is dangerous present, but the loss Of what is past. VOLUMNIA 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, 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 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. Here is Cominius.
Enter COMINIUS COMINIUS 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. MENENIUS Only fair speech. COMINIUS I think 'twill serve, if he Can thereto frame his spirit. VOLUMNIA He must, and will Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. CORIOLANUS 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. COMINIUS Come, come, we'll prompt you. VOLUMNIA I prithee 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 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. 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 market-place;
Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved 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 prepared 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!
