Coriolanus by William Shakespeare
Act 1 - Scene 9
The Roman camp.
Cominius : If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
[p]Thou'ldst not
believe thy deeds: but I'll report it
[p]Where senators shall mingle
tears with smiles,
[p]Where great patricians shall attend and
shrug,
[p]I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,
[p]And,
gladly quaked, hear more; where the
[p]dull tribunes,
[p]That, with
the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
[p]Shall say against their
hearts 'We thank the gods
[p]Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
[p]Yet
camest thou to a morsel of this feast,
[p]Having fully dined
before.
[p][Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power,]
[p]from the
pursuit]
Titus Lartius : O general,
[p]Here is the steed, we the caparison:
[p]Hadst thou
beheld--
Coriolanus : Pray now, no more: my mother,
[p]Who has a charter to extol her
blood,
[p]When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
[p]As you
have done; that's what I can; induced
[p]As you have been; that's for
my country:
[p]He that has but effected his good will
[p]Hath
overta'en mine act.
Cominius : You shall not be
[p]The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
[p]The
value of her own: 'twere a concealment
[p]Worse than a theft, no less
than a traducement,
[p]To hide your doings; and to silence
that,
[p]Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
[p]Would seem
but modest: therefore, I beseech you
[p]In sign of what you are, not
to reward
[p]What you have done--before our army hear me.
Coriolanus : I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
[p]To hear themselves
remember'd.
Cominius : Should they not,
[p]Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
[p]And
tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
[p]Whereof we have
ta'en good and good store, of all
[p]The treasure in this field
achieved and city,
[p]We render you the tenth, to be ta'en
forth,
[p]Before the common distribution, at
[p]Your only choice.
Coriolanus : I thank you, general;
[p]But cannot make my heart consent to take
[p]A
bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
[p]And stand upon my common
part with those
[p]That have beheld the doing.
[p][A long flourish.
They all cry 'CORIOLANUS! CORIOLANUS!']
[p]cast up their caps and
lances: COMINIUS and TITUS
[p]stand bare]
Coriolanus : May these same instruments, which you profane,
[p]Never sound more!
when drums and trumpets shall
[p]I' the field prove flatterers, let
courts and cities be
[p]Made all of false-faced soothing!
[p]When
steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,
[p]Let him be made a
coverture for the wars!
[p]No more, I say! For that I have not
wash'd
[p]My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.--
[p]Which,
without note, here's many else have done,--
[p]You shout me
forth
[p]In acclamations hyperbolical;
[p]As if I loved my little
should be dieted
[p]In praises sauced with lies.
Cominius : Too modest are you;
[p]More cruel to your good report than
grateful
[p]To us that give you truly: by your patience,
[p]If 'gainst
yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,
[p]Like one that means his
proper harm, in manacles,
[p]Then reason safely with you. Therefore,
be it known,
[p]As to us, to all the world, that Caius
CORIOLANUS
[p]Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
[p]My
noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
[p]With all his trim
belonging; and from this time,
[p]For what he did before Corioli, call
him,
[p]With all the applause and clamour of the host,
[p]CAIUS
CORIOLANUS CORIOLANUS! Bear
[p]The addition nobly ever!
All : Caius CORIOLANUS Coriolanus!
Coriolanus : I will go wash;
[p]And when my face is fair, you shall
perceive
[p]Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.
[p]I mean to
stride your steed, and at all times
[p]To undercrest your good
addition
[p]To the fairness of my power.
Cominius : So, to our tent;
[p]Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
[p]To
Rome of our success. You, Titus TITUS,
[p]Must to Corioli back: send
us to Rome
[p]The best, with whom we may articulate,
[p]For their own
good and ours.
Titus Lartius : I shall, my lord.
Coriolanus : The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
[p]Refused most princely gifts,
am bound to beg
[p]Of my lord general.
Cominius : Take't; 'tis yours. What is't?
Coriolanus : I sometime lay here in Corioli
[p]At a poor man's house; he used me
kindly:
[p]He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
[p]But then Aufidius
was within my view,
[p]And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request
you
[p]To give my poor host freedom.
Cominius : O, well begg'd!
[p]Were he the butcher of my son, he should
[p]Be free
as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Titus Lartius : CORIOLANUS, his name?
Coriolanus : By Jupiter! forgot.
[p]I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.
[p]Have we
no wine here?
Cominius : Go we to our tent:
[p]The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis
time
[p]It should be look'd to: come.
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Next: Act 1 - Scene 10
