But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me. Cas. You love me not.
Bru. I do not like your faults.
Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.
Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
For Cassius is aweary of the world :
Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; Checked like a bondman; all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learned and conned by rote, To cast into my teeth. Oh, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes!-There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart: Strike as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know,
When thou didst hate him worst thou lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
Bru. Sheath your dagger:
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
Cas. Hath Cassius lived
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him? Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too.
Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. Bru. And my heart too.
Cas. O Brutus !
Bru. What's the matter?
Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful ?
Bru. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
CORIOLANUS AND AUFIDIUS.-CORIOLANUS. Cor. I plainly, Tullus, by your looks perceive You disapprove my conduct.
Auf. I mean not to assail thee with the clamour Of loud reproaches and the war of words; But, pride apart, and all that can pervert The light of steady reason, here to make A candid, fair proposal.
Auf. I need not tell thee, that I have performed My utmost promise. Thou hast been protected; Hast had thy amplest, most ambitious wish; Thy wounded pride is healed, thy dear revenge Completely sated; and to crown thy fortune At the same time, thy peace with Rome restored. Thou art no more a Volscian, but a Roman; Return, return; thy duty calls upon thee Still to protect the city thou hast saved; It yet may be in danger from our arms;
Retire: I will take care thou may'st with safety.
Cor. With safety? Heavens !-and thinkest thou Corio
Will stoop to thee for safety ?-No: my safeguard
Is in myself, a bosom void of fear.—
O'tis an act of cowardice and baseness
To seize the very time my hands are fettered By the strong chain of former obligation, The safe, sure moment to insult me.- -Gods! Were I now free, as on that day I was, When at Corioli I tamed thy pride, This had not been.
Auf. Thou speakest the truth: it had not. O for that time again! Propitious gods,
you will bless me, grant it! Know, for that, For that dear purpose, I have now proposed Thou shouldst return; I pray thee, Marcius, do it; And we shall meet again on nobler terms.
Cor. Till I have cleared my honour in your council, And proved before them all, to thy confusion The falsehood of thy charge; as soon in battle I would before thee fly, and howl for mercy, As quit the station they've assigned me here.
Auf. Thou canst not hope acquittal from the Volscians. Cor. I do:-Nay, more, expect their approbation, Their thanks. I will obtain them such a peace As thou durst never ask; a perfect union
Of their whole nation with imperial Rome, In all her privileges, all her rights;
By the just gods, I will.-What wouldst thou more? Auf. What would I more, proud Roman ?
Fire the cursed forest, where these Roman wolves
Haunt and infest their nobler neighbours round them; Extirpate from the bosom of this land
A false, perfidious people, who, beneath The mask of freedom, are a combination Against the liberty of human kind;
The genuine seed of outlaws and of robbers.
Cor. The seed of gods.-'Tis not for thee, vain boaster,
"Tis not for such as thou-so often spared
By her victorious sword, to speak of Rome, But with respect, and awful veneration.— Whate'er her blots, whate'er her giddy factions There is more virtue in one single year
Of Roman story, than your Volscian annals
Can boast through all their creeping, dark duration. Auf. I thank thy rage: -This full displays the traitor. [Cor. Traitor! How now?
Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.
Cor. Marcius!
Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stolen name, Coriolanus, in Corioli?
You lords, and heads of the state, perfidiously He has betrayed your business, and given up, For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,- I say, your city,-to his wife and mother; Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting Counsel of the war: but at his nurse's tears He whined and roared away your victory; That pages blushed at him, and men of heart Looked wondering at each other.
Cor. Hearest thou, Mars?
Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears. Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!- Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cot, I Fluttered your Volscians in Corioli, Alone I did it. Boy!]-But let us part; rash hand should do a hasty deed
My cooler thought forbids.
The worst thy sword can do; while thou from me Hast nothing to expect but sore destruction;
Quit then this hostile camp: once more I tell thee, Thou art not here one single hour in safety. [Cor. O that I had thee in the field, With six Aufidiuses, or more, thy tribe, To use my lawful sword!]
The two passages in the above scene enclosed between brackets [] are extracted from Shakespere's "Coriolanus.”
EDWARD AND WARWICK.-EARL OF WARWICK.
Edw. Let me have no intruders; above all,
Keep Warwick from my sight.
Enter WARWICK.
War. Behold him here;
No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask My Lord of Suffolk's leave. There was a time When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain
Edw. There was a time, perhaps,
When Warwick more desired, and more deserved it.
War. Never: I've been a foolish faithful slave; All my best years, the morning of my life, Hath been devoted to your service: what Are now the fruits? Disgrace and infamy! My spotless name, which never yet the breath Of calumny had tainted, made the mock For foreign fools to carp at: but 'tis fit Who trust in princes, should be thus rewarded. Edw. I thought, my lord, I had full well repaid Your services with honours, wealth, and power Unlimited; thy all-directing hand
Guided in secret every latent wheel
Of government, and moved the whole machine: Warwick was all in all, and powerless Edward Stood like a cipher in the great account.
War. Who gave that cipher worth, and seated thee On England's throne? Thy undistinguished name Had rotted in the dust from whence it sprang And mouldered in oblivion, had not Warwick Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore, And stamped it with a diadem. Thou know'st This wretched country, doom'd, perhaps, like Rome, To fall by its own self-destroying hand, Tost for so many years in the rough sea Of civil discord, but for me had perished. In that distressful hour I seized the helm,
Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and steered Your shattered vessel safe into the harbour. You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid
Which you no longer want; but know, proud youth, He who forgets a friend deserves a foe.
Edw. Know too, reproach for benefits received Pays every debt, and cancels obligation.
War. Why, that indeed is frugal honesty ;
A thrifty saving knowledge; when the debt
Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharged,
A sponge will wipe out all and cost you nothing.
Edw. When you have counted o'er the numerous train
Of mighty gifts your bounty lavished on me,
You may remember next the injuries
Which I have done you: let me know them all,
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