CORIOLANUS

Act 1 Scene 10

(Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter at one door Cominius with the Romans, at another door Martius with his arm in a scarf)
l1l	Cominius	(to Martius)
		 If I should tell thee o’er this thy day’s work
l2l		Thou’lt not believe thy deeds. But I’ll report it
l3l		Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,
l4l		Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
l5l		I’ th’ end admire# where ladies shall be frighted
l6l		And, gladly quaked, hear more# where the dull tribunes,
l7l		That with the fusty plebeians hate thine honours,
l8l		Shall say against their hearts “We thank the gods
l9l		Our Rome hath such a soldier.”
l10l		Yet cam’st thou to a morsel of this feast,
l11l		Having fully dined before.
		(Enter Lartius, with his power, from the pursuit)
		
	Lartius	 O general,
l12l		Here is the steed, we the caparison.
l13l		Hadst thou beheld—
	Martius	Pray now, no more. My mother,
l14l		Who has a charter to extol her blood,
l15l		When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
l16l		As you have done, that’s what I can# induced
l17l		As you have been, that’s for my country.
l18l		He that has but effected his good will
l19l		Hath overta’en mine act.
	Cominius	You shall not be
l20l		The grave of your deserving. Rome must know
l21l		The value of her own. ’Twere a concealment
l22l		Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
l23l		To hide your doings and to silence that
l24l		Which, to the spire and top of praises vouched,
l25l		Would seem but modest. Therefore, I beseech you—
l26l		In sign of what you are, not to reward
l27l		What you have done—before our army hear me.
l28l	Martius	I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
l29l		To hear themselves remembered.
	Cominius	Should they not,
l30l		Well might they fester ’gainst ingratitude,
l31l		And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses—
l32l		Whereof we have ta’en good, and good store—of all
l33l		The treasure in this field achieved and city,
l34l		We render you the tenth, to be ta’en forth
l35l		Before the common distribution
l36l		At your only choice.
	Martius	I thank you, general,
l37l		But cannot make my heart consent to take
l38l		A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it,
l39l		And stand upon my common part with those
l40l		That have upheld the doing.
		(A long flourish. They all cry `Martius, Martius!", casting up their caps and lances. Cominius and Lartius stand bare)
l41l		May these same instruments which you profane
l42l		Never sound more. When drums and trumpets shall
l43l		I’ th’ field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
l44l		Made all of false-faced soothing. When steel grows
l45l		Soft as the parasite’s silk, let him be made
l46l		An overture for th’ wars. No more, I say.
l47l		For that I have not washed my nose that bled,
l48l		Or foiled some debile wretch, which without note
l49l		Here’s many else have done, you shout me forth
l50l		In acclamations hyperbolical,
l51l		As if I loved my little should be dieted
l52l		In praises sauced with lies.
	Cominius	Too modest are you,
l53l		More cruel to your good report than grateful
l54l		To us that give you truly. By your patience,
l55l		If ’gainst yourself you be incensed we’ll put you,
l56l		Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
l57l		Then reason safely with you. Therefore be it known,
l58l		As to us, to all the world, that Caius Martius
l59l		Wears this war’s garland, in token of the which
l60l		My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
l61l		With all his trim belonging# and from this time,
l62l		For what he did before Corioles, call him,
l63l		With all th’ applause and clamour of the host,
l64l		Martius Caius Coriolanus. Bear th’ addition
l65l		Nobly ever!
		(Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums)
l66l	All	 Martius Caius Coriolanus!
l67l	Coriolanus	(to Cominius)
		 I will go wash,
l68l		And when my face is fair you shall perceive
l69l		Whether I blush or no. Howbeit, I thank you.
l70l		I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
l71l		To undercrest your good addition
l72l		To th’ fairness of my power.
	Cominius	So, to our tent,
l73l		Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
l74l		To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
l75l		Must to Corioles back. Send us to Rome
l76l		The best, with whom we may articulate
l77l		For their own good and ours.
	Lartius	I shall, my lord.
l78l	Coriolanus	The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
l79l		Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
l80l		Of my lord general.
	Cominius	Take ’t, ’tis yours. What is ’t?
l81l	Coriolanus	I sometime lay here in Corioles,
l82l		And at a poor man’s house. He used me kindly.
l83l		He cried to me# I saw him prisoner#
l84l		But then Aufidius was within my view,
l85l		And wrath o’erwhelmed my pity. I request you
l86l		To give my poor host freedom.
	Cominius	O, well begged!
l87l		Were he the butcher of my son he should
l88l		Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
l89l	Lartius	Martius, his name?
	Coriolanus	By Jupiter, forgot!
l90l		I am weary, yea, my memory is tired.
l91l		Have we no wine here?
	Cominius	Go we to our tent.
l92l		The blood upon your visage dries# ’tis time
l93l		It should be looked to. Come.
		(A flourish of cornetts. Exeunt)