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Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, |
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius |
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, |
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, |
With all his trim belonging; and from this time, |
For what he did before Corioli, call him, |
With all the applause and clamour of the host, |
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear |
The addition nobly ever! |
All: |
Caius Marcius Coriolanus! |
CORIOLANUS: |
I will go wash; |
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive |
Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you. |
I mean to stride your steed, and at all times |
To undercrest your good addition |
To the fairness of my power. |
COMINIUS: |
So, to our tent; |
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write |
To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, |
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome |
The best, with whom we may articulate, |
For their own good and ours. |
LARTIUS: |
I shall, my lord. |
CORIOLANUS: |
The gods begin to mock me. I, that now |
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg |
Of my lord general. |
COMINIUS: |
Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? |
CORIOLANUS: |
I sometime lay here in Corioli |
At a poor man's house; he used me kindly: |
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; |
But then Aufidius was within my view, |
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you |
To give my poor host freedom. |
COMINIUS: |
O, well begg'd! |
Were he the butcher of my son, he should |
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. |
LARTIUS: |
Marcius, his name? |
CORIOLANUS: |
By Jupiter! forgot. |
I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. |
Have we no wine here? |
COMINIUS: |
Go we to our tent: |
The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time |
It should be look'd to: come. |
AUFIDIUS: |
The town is ta'en! |
First Soldier: |
'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. |
AUFIDIUS: |
Condition! |
I would I were a Roman; for I cannot, |
Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition! |
What good condition can a treaty find |
I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, |
I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me, |
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter |
As often as we eat. By the elements, |
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, |
He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation |
Hath not that honour in't it had; for where |
I thought to crush him in an equal force, |
True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way |
Or wrath or craft may get him. |
First Soldier: |
He's the devil. |
AUFIDIUS: |
Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd |
With only suffering stain by him; for him |
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary, |
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, |
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, |
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up |
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst |
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it |
Subsets and Splits