Carry his honours even whether 't was pride,
Which out of daily fortune ever taints
The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
Not to be other than one thing, not moving

From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace

Even with the same austerity and garb

As he controlled the war; but one of these

As he hath spices of them all, not all,

For I dare so far free him-made him feared;
So, hated; and so, banished; but he has a merit,
To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues

Lie in the interpretation of the time;

And power unto itself most commendable
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair

To extol what it hath done.

One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do

fail.

Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, Thou 'rt poor'st of all; then, shortly art thou mine.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Rome. A Public Place.

Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others.

Men. No, I'll not go; you hear what he hath said,

Which was sometime his general; who loved him
In a most dear particular. He called me father :
But what o' that? Go, you that banished him ;
A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coyed
To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
Com. He would not seem to know me.

Do you hear?

Men.
Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name,
I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to, forbad all names;
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,

Till he had forged himself a name 'o the fire
Of burning Rome.

Men. Why, so; you have made good work:

162

CORIOLANUS.

A pair of tribunes that have wracked fair Rome,
To make coals cheap; a noble memory!

Com. I minded him, how royal 't was to pardon When it was less expected: he replied,

It was a rare petition of a state
To one whom they had punished.

Men. Very well could he say less?
Com. I offered to awaken his regard

For 's private friends: his answer to me was,
He could not stay to pick them in a pile

Of noisome, musty chaff.

He said, 't was folly,

For one poor grain or two to leave unburnt
And still to nose the offence.

Men.

For one poor grain or two!

I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child,
And this brave fellow too, we are the grains:

you are smelt
You are the musty chaff, and
We must be burnt for
Above the moon.

you.

Sic. Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your

aid

In this so never-needed help, yet do not
Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you
Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
More than the instant army we can make,

Sic. Pray you, go to him.

Men.

What should I do?

Bru. Only make trial what your love can do

For Rome, towards Marcius.

Men.

Well; and say that Marcius

Return me, as Cominius is returned,

Unheard ;-but as a discontented friend

Griefshot with his unkindness.

Say it be so; what then?

And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me.
He was not taken well: he had not dined:
The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we've stuffed
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore, I'll watch
him

Till he be dieted to my request,

And then I'll set upon him.

Bru. You know the very road into his kindness

And cannot lose your way.

Men.

Good faith, I'll prove him.

Speed how it will, I shall ere long have knowledge

Com. I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye Red as 't would burn Rome; and his injury The gaoler to his pity. I kneeled before him ; "T was very faintly he said, "Rise;" dismissed me Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, He sent in writing after me, what he would not ; Bound with an oath to hold to his conditions : So that all hope is vain,

Unless in 's noble mother, and his wife,

Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him

For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,

And with our fair entreaties haste them on.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.—The Volscian Camp before Rome. The Guards at their stations.

Enter to them MENENIUS.

1 G. Stay whence are you?