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As for my country I have shed my blood, |
Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs |
Coin words till their decay against those measles, |
Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought |
The very way to catch them. |
BRUTUS: |
You speak o' the people, |
As if you were a god to punish, not |
A man of their infirmity. |
SICINIUS: |
'Twere well |
We let the people know't. |
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 here to choose an officer, |
That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but |
The horn and noise o' the monster's, 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 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 market-place. |
CORIOLANUS: |
Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth |
The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used |
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 assured |
That 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 |
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