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Cominius complete text
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| Cominius. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, | 1.9.1
| Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it | 1.9.2
| Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles, | 1.9.3
| Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, | 1.9.4
| I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted, | 1.9.5
| And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the | 1.9.6
| dull tribunes, | 1.9.7
| That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, | 1.9.8
| Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods | 1.9.9
| Our Rome hath such a soldier.' | 1.9.10
| Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, | 1.9.11
| Having fully dined before. | 1.9.12
Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit
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| Cominius. Too modest are you; | 1.9.60
| More cruel to your good report than grateful | 1.9.61
| To us that give you truly: by your patience, | 1.9.62
| If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, | 1.9.63
| Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, | 1.9.64
| Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, | 1.9.65
| As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius | 1.9.66
| Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, | 1.9.67
| My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, | 1.9.68
| With all his trim belonging; and from this time, | 1.9.69
| For what he did before Corioli, call him, | 1.9.70
| With all the applause and clamour of the host, | 1.9.71
| CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear | 1.9.72
| The addition nobly ever! | 1.9.73
Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums
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| Cominius. I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus | 2.2.97
| Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held | 2.2.98
| That valour is the chiefest virtue, and | 2.2.99
| Most dignifies the haver: if it be, | 2.2.100
| The man I speak of cannot in the world | 2.2.101
| Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, | 2.2.102
| When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought | 2.2.103
| Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator, | 2.2.104
| Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight, | 2.2.105
| When with his Amazonian chin he drove | 2.2.106
| The bristled lips before him: be bestrid | 2.2.107
| An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view | 2.2.108
| Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met, | 2.2.109
| And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats, | 2.2.110
| When he might act the woman in the scene, | 2.2.111
| He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed | 2.2.112
| Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age | 2.2.113
| Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea, | 2.2.114
| And in the brunt of seventeen battles since | 2.2.115
| He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, | 2.2.116
| Before and in Corioli, let me say, | 2.2.117
| I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; | 2.2.118
| And by his rare example made the coward | 2.2.119
| Turn terror into sport: as weeds before | 2.2.120
| A vessel under sail, so men obey'd | 2.2.121
| And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, | 2.2.122
| Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot | 2.2.123
| He was a thing of blood, whose every motion | 2.2.124
| Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd | 2.2.125
| The mortal gate of the city, which he painted | 2.2.126
| With shunless destiny; aidless came off, | 2.2.127
| And with a sudden reinforcement struck | 2.2.128
| Corioli like a planet: now all's his: | 2.2.129
| When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce | 2.2.130
| His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit | 2.2.131
| Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, | 2.2.132
| And to the battle came he; where he did | 2.2.133
| Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if | 2.2.134
| 'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd | 2.2.135
| Both field and city ours, he never stood | 2.2.136
| To ease his breast with panting. | 2.2.137
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| Cominius. I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye | 5.1.75
| Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury | 5.1.76
| The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; | 5.1.77
| 'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me | 5.1.78
| Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, | 5.1.79
| He sent in writing after me; what he would not, | 5.1.80
| Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: | 5.1.81
| So that all hope is vain. | 5.1.82
| Unless his noble mother, and his wife; | 5.1.83
| Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him | 5.1.84
| For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, | 5.1.85
| And with our fair entreaties haste them on. | 5.1.86
Exeunt
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