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Test3

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Stop,
Or all will fall in broil.
CORIOLANUS:
Are these your herd?
Must these have voices, that can yield them now
And straight disclaim their tongues? What are
your offices?
You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
Have you not set them on?
MENENIUS:
Be calm, be calm.
CORIOLANUS:
It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot,
To curb the will of the nobility:
Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule
Nor ever will be ruled.
BRUTUS:
Call't not a plot:
The people cry you mock'd them, and of late,
When corn was given them gratis, you repined;
Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them
Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.
CORIOLANUS:
Why, this was known before.
BRUTUS:
Not to them all.
CORIOLANUS:
Have you inform'd them sithence?
BRUTUS:
How! I inform them!
CORIOLANUS:
You are like to do such business.
BRUTUS:
Not unlike,
Each way, to better yours.
CORIOLANUS:
Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,
Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
Your fellow tribune.
SICINIUS:
You show too much of that
For which the people stir: if you will pass
To where you are bound, you must inquire your way,
Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
Or never be so noble as a consul,
Nor yoke with him for tribune.
MENENIUS:
Let's be calm.
COMINIUS:
The people are abused; set on. This paltering
Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus
Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely
I' the plain way of his merit.
CORIOLANUS:
Tell me of corn!
This was my speech, and I will speak't again--
MENENIUS:
Not now, not now.
First Senator:
Not in this heat, sir, now.
CORIOLANUS:
Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends,
I crave their pardons:
For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them
Regard me as I do not flatter, and
Therein behold themselves: I say again,
In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate
The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd,
and scatter'd,
By mingling them with us, the honour'd number,
Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that
Which they have given to beggars.
MENENIUS:
Well, no more.
First Senator:
No more words, we beseech you.
CORIOLANUS:
How! no more!