3. SCENE III. The tent of CORIOLANUS.
[Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others.]
We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow
Set down our host.--My partner in this action,
You must report to the Volscian lords how plainly
I have borne this business.
Only their ends
You have respected; stopped your ears against
The general suit of Rome; never admitted
A private whisper, no, not with such friends
That thought them sure of you.
This last old man,
Whom with crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
Lov'd me above the measure of a father;
Nay, godded me indeed. Their latest refuge
Was to send him; for whose old love I have,--
Though I show'd sourly to him,--once more offer'd
The first conditions, which they did refuse,
And cannot now accept, to grace him only,
That thought he could do more, a very little
I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits,
Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.--
Ha! what shout is this?
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
In the same time 'tis made? I will not.
[Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading YOUNG
MARCIUS, VALERIA, and attendants.]
My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection!
All bond and privilege of nature, break!
Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.--
What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
Which can make gods forsworn?--I melt, and am not
Of stronger earth than others.--My mother bows,
As if Olympus to a molehill should
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession which
Great nature cries "Deny not.'--Let the Volsces
Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand,
As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin.
My lord and husband!
These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
The sorrow that delivers us thus chang'd
Makes you think so.