Page 2924 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

CORIOLANUS

Not of a woman’s tenderness to be
Requires nor child nor woman’s face to see. [130]
I have sat too long.

He rises.

VOLUMNIA
Nay, go not from us thus.

If it were so that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us

As poisonous of your honour. No, our suit [135]
Is that you reconcile them, while the Volsces
May say ‘This mercy we have showed’, the Romans
‘This we received’, and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee and cry ‘Be blest

For making up this peace!’ Thou know’st, great son, [140]
The end of war’s uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit

Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: ‘The man was noble, [145]
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country, and his name remains

To th’ensuing age abhorred.’ Speak to me, son.
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods, [150]

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’th’air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think’st thou it honourable for a nobleman
Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: [155]

He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy.
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons. There’s no man in the world

More bound to’s mother, yet here he lets me prate
Like one i’th’stocks. Thou hast never in thy life [160]