I saw't. MENENIUS A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. VIRGILIA O, no, no, no. VOLUMNIA O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. MENENIUS So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. VOLUMNIA On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home with the oaken garland. MENENIUS Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? VOLUMNIA Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off. MENENIUS And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? VOLUMNIA Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly VALERIA In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. MENENIUS Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing. VIRGILIA The gods grant them true! VOLUMNIA True! pow, wow. MENENIUS True! I'll be sworn they are true.
Where is he wounded?
To the Tribunes God save your good worships! Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? VOLUMNIA I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. MENENIUS One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's nine that I know. VOLUMNIA He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him. MENENIUS Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave.
A shout and flourish Hark! the trumpets. VOLUMNIA These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;
Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.
A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald Herald Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these In honour follows Coriolanus.
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
Flourish All Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! CORIOLANUS No more of this; it does offend my heart:
Pray now, no more. COMINIUS Look, sir, your mother! CORIOLANUS O, You have, I know, petition'd all the gods For my prosperity!
Kneels VOLUMNIA Nay, my good soldier, up;
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and By deed-achieving honour newly named,--What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?--But O, thy wife! CORIOLANUS My gracious silence, hail!
Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, And mothers that lack sons. MENENIUS Now, the gods crown thee! CORIOLANUS And live you yet?
To VALERIA O my sweet lady, pardon. VOLUMNIA I know not where to turn: O, welcome home:
And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all. MENENIUS A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome.
A curse begin at very root on's heart, That is not glad to see thee! You are three That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, We have some old crab-trees here at home that will not Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:
