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MENENIUS.

       What, what? his choler?

       CORIOLANUS.

       Choler!

       Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,

       By Jove, ‘twould be my mind!

       SICINIUS.

       It is a mind

       That shall remain a poison where it is,

       Not poison any further.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Shall remain!—

       Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you

       His absolute ‘shall’?

       COMINIUS.

       ‘Twas from the canon.

       CORIOLANUS.

       ‘Shall’!

       O good, but most unwise patricians! why,

       You grave but reckless senators, have you thus

       Given Hydra leave to choose an officer,

       That with his peremptory ‘shall,’ being but

       The horn and noise o’ the monster, wants not spirit

       To say he’ll turn your current in a ditch,

       And make your channel his? If he have power,

       Then vail your ignorance: if none, awake

       Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn’d,

       Be not as common fools; if you are not,

       Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,

       If they be senators: and they are no less

       When, both your voices blended, the great’st taste

       Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate;

       And such a one as he, who puts his ‘shall,’

       His popular ‘shall,’ against a graver bench

       Than ever frown’d in Greece. By Jove himself,

       It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches

       To know, when two authorities are up,

       Neither supreme, how soon confusion

       May enter ‘twixt the gap of both and take

       The one by the other.

       COMINIUS.

       Well, on to the marketplace.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth

       The corn o’ the storehouse gratis, as ‘twas us’d

       Sometime in Greece,—

       MENENIUS.

       Well, well, no more of that.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Though there the people had more absolute power,—

       I say they nourish’d disobedience, fed

       The ruin of the state.

       BRUTUS.

       Why shall the people give

       One that speaks thus their voice?

       CORIOLANUS.

       I’ll give my reasons,

       More worthier than their voices. They know the corn

       Was not our recompense, resting well assur’d

       They ne’er did service for’t; being press’d to the war,

       Even when the navel of the state was touch’d,

       They would not thread the gates,—this kind of service

       Did not deserve corn gratis: being i’ the war,

       Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show’d

       Most valour, spoke not for them. The accusation

       Which they have often made against the senate,

       All cause unborn, could never be the motive

       Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?

       How shall this bisson multitude digest

       The senate’s courtesy? Let deeds express

       What’s like to be their words:—‘We did request it;

       We are the greater poll, and in true fear

       They gave us our demands:’— Thus we debase

       The nature of our seats, and make the rabble

       Call our cares fears; which will in time

       Break ope the locks o’ the senate and bring in

       The crows to peck the eagles.—

       MENENIUS.

       Come, enough.

       BRUTUS.

       Enough, with over-measure.

       CORIOLANUS.

       No, take more:

       What may be sworn by, both divine and human,

       Seal what I end withal!—This double worship,—

       Where one part does disdain with cause, the other

       Insult without all reason; where gentry, title, wisdom,

       Cannot conclude but by the yea and no

       Of general ignorance—it must omit

       Real necessities, and give way the while

       To unstable slightness: purpose so barr’d, it follows,

       Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,—

       You that will be less fearful than discreet;

       That love the fundamental part of state

       More than you doubt the change on’t; that prefer

       A noble life before a long, and wish

       To jump a body with a dangerous physic

       That’s sure of death without it,—at once pluck out

       The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick

       The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour

       Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state

       Of that integrity which should become’t;

       Not having the power to do the good it would,

       For the ill which doth control’t.

       BRUTUS.

       Has said enough.

       SICINIUS.

       Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer

       As traitors do.

       CORIOLANUS.

       Thou wretch, despite o’erwhelm thee!—

       What should the people do with these bald tribunes?

       On whom depending, their obedience fails

       To the greater bench: in a rebellion,

       When what’s not meet, but what must be, was law,

       Then were they chosen; in a better hour

       Let what is meet be said it must be meet,

       And throw their power i’ the dust.

       BRUTUS.

       Manifest treason!

       SICINIUS.

       This a consul? no.

       BRUTUS.

       The aediles, ho!—Let him be apprehended.

       SICINIUS.

       Go call the people [Exit BRUTUS.]; in whose name myself

       Attach thee as a traitorous innovator,

      

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