Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 137

by William Shakespeare


  Patience awhile, you’ll hear the belly’s answer.

  First Citizen

  Ye’re long about it.

  Menenius

  Note me this, good friend;

  Your most grave belly was deliberate,

  Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer’d:

  ‘True is it, my incorporate friends,’ quoth he,

  ‘That I receive the general food at first,

  Which you do live upon; and fit it is,

  Because I am the store-house and the shop

  Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,

  I send it through the rivers of your blood,

  Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o’ the brain;

  And, through the cranks and offices of man,

  The strongest nerves and small inferior veins

  From me receive that natural competency

  Whereby they live: and though that all at once,

  You, my good friends,’— this says the belly, mark me,—

  First Citizen

  Ay, sir; well, well.

  Menenius

  ‘Though all at once cannot

  See what I do deliver out to each,

  Yet I can make my audit up, that all

  From me do back receive the flour of all,

  And leave me but the bran.’ What say you to’t?

  First Citizen

  It was an answer: how apply you this?

  Menenius

  The senators of Rome are this good belly,

  And you the mutinous members; for examine

  Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly

  Touching the weal o’ the common, you shall find

  No public benefit which you receive

  But it proceeds or comes from them to you

  And no way from yourselves. What do you think,

  You, the great toe of this assembly?

  First Citizen

  I the great toe! why the great toe?

  Menenius

  For that, being one o’ the lowest, basest, poorest,

  Of this most wise rebellion, thou go’st foremost:

  Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,

  Lead’st first to win some vantage.

  But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs:

  Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;

  The one side must have bale.

  Enter Caius Marcius

  Hail, noble Marcius!

  Marcius

  Thanks. What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues,

  That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,

  Make yourselves scabs?

  First Citizen

  We have ever your good word.

  Marcius

  He that will give good words to thee will flatter

  Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,

  That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,

  The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,

  Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;

  Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,

  Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

  Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is

  To make him worthy whose offence subdues him

  And curse that justice did it.

  Who deserves greatness

  Deserves your hate; and your affections are

  A sick man’s appetite, who desires most that

  Which would increase his evil. He that depends

  Upon your favours swims with fins of lead

  And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye?

  With every minute you do change a mind,

  And call him noble that was now your hate,

  Him vile that was your garland. What’s the matter,

  That in these several places of the city

  You cry against the noble senate, who,

  Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else

  Would feed on one another? What’s their seeking?

  Menenius

  For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,

  The city is well stored.

  Marcius

  Hang ’em! They say!

  They’ll sit by the fire, and presume to know

  What’s done i’ the Capitol; who’s like to rise,

  Who thrives and who declines; side factions and give out

  Conjectural marriages; making parties strong

  And feebling such as stand not in their liking

  Below their cobbled shoes. They say there’s grain enough!

  Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,

  And let me use my sword, I’ll make a quarry

  With thousands of these quarter’d slaves, as high

  As I could pick my lance.

  Menenius

  Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;

  For though abundantly they lack discretion,

  Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,

  What says the other troop?

  Marcius

  They are dissolved: hang ’em!

  They said they were an-hungry; sigh’d forth proverbs,

  That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,

  That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not

  Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds

  They vented their complainings; which being answer’d,

  And a petition granted them, a strange one —

  To break the heart of generosity,

  And make bold power look pale — they threw their caps

  As they would hang them on the horns o’ the moon,

  Shouting their emulation.

  Menenius

  What is granted them?

  Marcius

  Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,

  Of their own choice: one’s Junius Brutus,

  Sicinius Velutus, and I know not —’sdeath!

  The rabble should have first unroof’d the city,

  Ere so prevail’d with me: it will in time

  Win upon power and throw forth greater themes

  For insurrection’s arguing.

  Menenius

  This is strange.

  Marcius

  Go, get you home, you fragments!

  Enter a Messenger, hastily

  Messenger

  Where’s Caius Marcius?

  Marcius

  Here: what’s the matter?

  Messenger

  The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.

  Marcius

  I am glad on ’t: then we shall ha’ means to vent

  Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.

  Enter Cominius, Titus Lartius, and other Senators; Junius Brutus and Sicinius Velutus

  First Senator

  Marcius, ’tis true that you have lately told us;

  The Volsces are in arms.

  Marcius

  They have a leader,

  Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to ’t.

  I sin in envying his nobility,

  And were I any thing but what I am,

  I would wish me only he.

  Cominius

  You have fought together.

  Marcius

  Were half to half the world by the ears and he.

  Upon my party, I’ld revolt to make

  Only my wars with him: he is a lion

  That I am proud to hunt.

  First Senator

  Then, worthy Marcius,

  Attend upon Cominius to these wars.

  Cominius

  It is your former promise.

  Marcius

  Sir, it is;

  And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou

  Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus’ face.

  What, art thou stiff? stand’st out?

  Titus

  No, Caius Marcius;

  I’ll lean upon one crutch and fight with t’other,
r />   Ere stay behind this business.

  Menenius

  O, true-bred!

  First Senator

  Your company to the Capitol; where, I know,

  Our greatest friends attend us.

  Titus

  [To Cominius] Lead you on.

  To Marcius

  Right worthy you priority.

  Cominius

  Noble Marcius!

  First Senator

  [To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone!

  Marcius

  Nay, let them follow:

  The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither

  To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners,

  Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.

  Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but Sicinius and Brutus

  Sicinius

  Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?

  Brutus

  He has no equal.

  Sicinius

  When we were chosen tribunes for the people,—

  Brutus

  Mark’d you his lip and eyes?

  Sicinius

  Nay. but his taunts.

  Brutus

  Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.

  Sicinius

  Be-mock the modest moon.

  Brutus

  The present wars devour him: he is grown

  Too proud to be so valiant.

  Sicinius

  Such a nature,

  Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow

  Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder

  His insolence can brook to be commanded

  Under Cominius.

  Brutus

  Fame, at the which he aims,

  In whom already he’s well graced, can not

  Better be held nor more attain’d than by

  A place below the first: for what miscarries

  Shall be the general’s fault, though he perform

  To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure

  Will then cry out of Marcius ‘O if he

  Had borne the business!’

  Sicinius

  Besides, if things go well,

  Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall

  Of his demerits rob Cominius.

  Brutus

  Come:

  Half all Cominius’ honours are to Marcius.

  Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults

  To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed

  In aught he merit not.

  Sicinius

  Let’s hence, and hear

  How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,

  More than his singularity, he goes

  Upon this present action.

  Brutus

  Lets along.

  Exeunt

  SCENE II. CORIOLI. THE SENATE-HOUSE.

  Enter Tullus Aufidius and certain Senators

  First Senator

  So, your opinion is, Aufidius,

  That they of Rome are entered in our counsels

  And know how we proceed.

  Aufidius

  Is it not yours?

  What ever have been thought on in this state,

  That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome

  Had circumvention? ’Tis not four days gone

  Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think

  I have the letter here; yes, here it is.

  Reads

  ‘They have press’d a power, but it is not known

  Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;

  The people mutinous; and it is rumour’d,

  Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,

  Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,

  And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,

  These three lead on this preparation

  Whither ’tis bent: most likely ’tis for you:

  Consider of it.’

  First Senator

  Our army’s in the field

  We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready

  To answer us.

  Aufidius

  Nor did you think it folly

  To keep your great pretences veil’d till when

  They needs must show themselves; which in the hatching,

  It seem’d, appear’d to Rome. By the discovery.

  We shall be shorten’d in our aim, which was

  To take in many towns ere almost Rome

  Should know we were afoot.

  Second Senator

  Noble Aufidius,

  Take your commission; hie you to your bands:

  Let us alone to guard Corioli:

  If they set down before ’s, for the remove

  Bring your army; but, I think, you’ll find

  They’ve not prepared for us.

  Aufidius

  O, doubt not that;

  I speak from certainties. Nay, more,

  Some parcels of their power are forth already,

  And only hitherward. I leave your honours.

  If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,

  ’Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike

  Till one can do no more.

  All

  The gods assist you!

  Aufidius

  And keep your honours safe!

  First Senator

  Farewell.

  Second Senator

  Farewell.

  All

  Farewell.

  Exeunt

  SCENE III. ROME. A ROOM IN MARCIUS’ HOUSE.

  Enter Volumnia and Virgilia they set them down on two low stools, and sew

  Volumnia

  I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour than in the embracements of his bed where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when for a day of kings’ entreaties a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering how honour would become such a person. that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.

  Virgilia

  But had he died in the business, madam; how then?

  Volumnia

  Then his good report should have been my son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.

  Enter a Gentlewoman

  Gentlewoman

  Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.

  Virgilia

  Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.

  Volumnia

  Indeed, you shall not.

  Methinks I hear hither your husband’s drum,

  See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair,

  As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him:

  Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:

  ‘Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear,

  Though you were born in Rome:’ his bloody brow

  With his mail’d hand then wiping, forth he goes,

  Like to a harvest-man that’s task’d to mow

  Or all or lose his hire.

  Virgilia

  His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!

  Volumnia

  Away, you fool! it more becomes a man

  Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,

  When she did suckle Hector, look’d not lovelier

  Than Hector’s forehead when it spit forth blood

  At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria,

&nbs
p; We are fit to bid her welcome.

  Exit Gentlewoman

  Virgilia

  Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!

  Volumnia

  He’ll beat Aufidius’ head below his knee

  And tread upon his neck.

  Enter Valeria, with an Usher and Gentlewoman

  Valeria

  My ladies both, good day to you.

  Volumnia

  Sweet madam.

  Virgilia

  I am glad to see your ladyship.

  Valeria

  How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith. How does your little son?

  Virgilia

  I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.

  Volumnia

  He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his school-master.

  Valeria

  O’ my word, the father’s son: I’ll swear,’tis a very pretty boy. O’ my troth, I looked upon him o’ Wednesday half an hour together: has such a confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his fall enraged him, or how ’twas, he did so set his teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked it!

  Volumnia

  One on ’s father’s moods.

  Valeria

  Indeed, la, ’tis a noble child.

  Virgilia

  A crack, madam.

  Valeria

  Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the idle husewife with me this afternoon.

  Virgilia

  No, good madam; I will not out of doors.

  Valeria

  Not out of doors!

  Volumnia

  She shall, she shall.

  Virgilia

  Indeed, no, by your patience; I’ll not over the threshold till my lord return from the wars.

  Valeria

  Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.

  Virgilia

  I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither.

  Volumnia

  Why, I pray you?

  Virgilia

  ’Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.

  Valeria

  You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all the yarn she spun in Ulysses’ absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.

  Virgilia

  No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

  Valeria

  In truth, la, go with me; and I’ll tell you excellent news of your husband.

  Virgilia

  O, good madam, there can be none yet.

  Valeria

  Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.

  Virgilia

  Indeed, madam?

  Valeria

  In earnest, it’s true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.

 

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