We call a nettle but a nettle and The faults of fools but folly. COMINIUS Ever right. CORIOLANUS Menenius ever, ever. Herald Give way there, and go on! CORIOLANUS [To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours:
Ere in our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited;
From whom I have received not only greetings, But with them change of honours. VOLUMNIA I have lived To see inherited my very wishes And the buildings of my fancy: only There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but Our Rome will cast upon thee. CORIOLANUS Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way, Than sway with them in theirs. COMINIUS On, to the Capitol!
Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward BRUTUS All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed With variable complexions, all agreeing In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens Do press among the popular throngs and puff To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames Commit the war of white and damask in Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother As if that whatsoever god who leads him Were slily crept into his human powers And gave him graceful posture. SICINIUS On the sudden, I warrant him consul. BRUTUS Then our office may, During his power, go sleep. SICINIUS He cannot temperately transport his honours From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won. BRUTUS In that there's comfort. SICINIUS Doubt not The commoners, for whom we stand, but they Upon their ancient malice will forget With the least cause these his new honours, which That he will give them make I as little question As he is proud to do't. BRUTUS I heard him swear, Were he to stand for consul, never would he Appear i' the market-place nor on him put The napless vesture of humility;
Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds To the people, beg their stinking breaths. SICINIUS 'Tis right. BRUTUS It was his word: O, he would miss it rather Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, And the desire of the nobles. SICINIUS I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose and to put it In execution. BRUTUS 'Tis most like he will. SICINIUS It shall be to him then as our good wills, A sure destruction. BRUTUS So it must fall out To him or our authorities. For an end, We must suggest the people in what hatred He still hath held them; that to's power he would Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, In human action and capacity, Of no more soul nor fitness for the world Than camels in the war, who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them. SICINIUS This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall touch the people--which time shall not want, If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.
Enter a Messenger BRUTUS What's the matter? Messenger You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought That Marcius shall be consul:
I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, As to Jove's statue, and the commons made A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts:
I never saw the like. BRUTUS Let's to the Capitol;
And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, But hearts for the event. SICINIUS Have with you.
