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DioLiu
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Test3

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MENENIUS:
For one poor grain or two!
I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child,
And this brave fellow too, we are the grains:
You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt
Above the moon: we must be burnt for you.
SICINIUS:
Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid
In this so never-needed help, yet do not
Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you
Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
More than the instant army we can make,
Might stop our countryman.
MENENIUS:
No, I'll not meddle.
SICINIUS:
Pray you, go to him.
MENENIUS:
What should I do?
BRUTUS:
Only make trial what your love can do
For Rome, towards Marcius.
MENENIUS:
Well, and say that Marcius
Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
Unheard; what then?
But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
With his unkindness? say't be so?
SICINIUS:
Yet your good will
must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
As you intended well.
MENENIUS:
I'll undertake 't:
I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip
And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
He was not taken well; he had not dined:
The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
These and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him
Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.
BRUTUS:
You know the very road into his kindness,
And cannot lose your way.
MENENIUS:
Good faith, I'll prove him,
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success.
COMINIUS:
He'll never hear him.
SICINIUS:
Not?
COMINIUS:
I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury
The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me
Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do,
He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:
So that all hope is vain.
Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.
First Senator:
Stay: whence are you?
Second Senator:
Stand, and go back.
MENENIUS:
You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave,
I am an officer of state, and come
To speak with Coriolanus.
First Senator:
From whence?
MENENIUS:
From Rome.