_Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Enter, from one side_,
COMINIUS _with the_ Romans; _from the other side_, MARCIUS,
_with his arm in a scarf_.[2728]
_Com._ If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it,[2729]
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles;
Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug,[2730]
I' the end admire; where ladies shall be frighted, 5
And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the dull tribunes,
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,[2731]
Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods
Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, 10
Having fully dined before.
_Enter_ TITUS LARTIUS, _with his power, from the pursuit_.[2732]
_Lart._ O general,
Here is the steed, we the caparison:[2733]
Hadst thou beheld--[2734]
_Mar._ Pray now, no more: my mother,[2735]
Who has a charter to extol her blood,[2735]
When she does praise me grieves me. I have done[2736] 15
As you have done; that's what I can: induced[2736]
As you have been; that's for my country:[2736]
He that has but effected his good will
Hath overta'en mine act.
_Com._ You shall not be[2737]
The grave of your deserving; Rome must know[2737] 20
The value of her own: 'twere a concealment[2737]
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,[2737]
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you-- 25
In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done--before our army hear me.
_Mar._ I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
To hear themselves remember'd.
_Com._ Should they not,
Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, 30
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store, of all[2738]
The treasure in this field achieved and city,[2739]
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at[2740][2741] 35
Your only choice.[2741]
_Mar._ I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it,
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.[2742] 40
[_A long flourish. They all cry_ 'Marcius! Marcius!' _cast up their
caps and lances: Cominius and Lartius stand bare_.
_Mar._ May these same instruments, which you profane,[2743]
Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall[2743]
I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be[2743][2744][2745]
Made all of false-faced soothing![2743][2745][2746]
When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,[2743][2747] 45
Let him be made a coverture for the wars![2743][2748][2749]
No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd[2743][2749][2750]
My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch,[2743]
Which without note here's many else have done,[2743]
You shout me forth[2743][2751][2752] 50
In acclamations hyperbolical;[2743][2751]
As if I loved my little should be dieted[2743]
In praises sauced with lies.[2743]
_Com._ Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report than grateful
To us that give you truly: by your patience,[2753] 55
If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,[2754]
Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
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, 60
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,[2755]
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[2756][2757] 65
The addition nobly ever! [_Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums._[2756]
_All._ Caius Marcius Coriolanus![2757][2758]
_Cor._ I will go wash;[2759]
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush, or no: howbeit, I thank you: 70
I mean to stride your steed; and at all times
To undercrest your good addition
To the fairness of my power.[2760]
_Com._ So, to our tent;
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write[2761]
To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, 75
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate
For their own good and ours.
_Lart._ I shall, my lord.
_Cor._ The gods begin to mock me. I, that now[2759][2762][2763]
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg[2762] 80
Of my lord general.[2762][2764]
_Com._ Take 't; 'tis yours. What is't?[2764][2765]
_Cor._ I sometime lay here in Corioli[2759][2764]
At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:[2764][2766]
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view, 85
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor host freedom.
_Com._ O, well begg'd!
Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
_Lart._ Marcius, his name?
_Cor._ By Jupiter, forgot:[2759] 90
I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.[2767]
Have we no wine here?
_Com._ Go we to our tent:
The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
It should be look'd to: come. [_Exeunt._