Coriolanus
·IV iII 1 ·
Verse
Coriolanus Coriolanus. Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, Where is your ancient courage? you were used To say extremity was the trier of spirits; That common chances common men could bear; That when the sea was calm all boats alike Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves A noble cunning: you were used to load me With precepts that would make invincible The heart that conn'd them. Coriolanus. Nay! prithee, woman,— Volumnia. Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, And occupations perish! Coriolanus. What, what, what! I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, If you had been the wife of Hercules, Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women 'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well My hazards still have been your solace: and Believe't not lightly—though I go alone, Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen—your son Will or exceed the common or be caught With cautelous baits and practise. |