Page 2856 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 2856
COMINIUS
But now ’tis odds beyond arithmetic,
And manhood is called foolery when it stands [245]
Against a falling fabric. Will you hence
Before the tag return, whose rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and o’erbear
What they are used to bear?
MENENIUS
Pray you be gone.
I’ll try whether my old wit be in request [250]
With those that have but little. This must be patched
With cloth of any colour.
COMINIUS
Nay, come away.
Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius.
PATRICIAN
This man has marred his fortune.
MENENIUS
His nature is too noble for the world.
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, [255]
Or Jove for’s power to thunder. His heart’s his mouth.
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent,
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death.
A noise within.
Here’s goodly work!
PATRICIAN
I would they were a-bed! [260]
MENENIUS
