William Shakespeare: The Tragedy of Coriolanus

ACT V. 1. SCENE I. Rome. A public place (continued)

MENENIUS.
No; I'll not meddle.

SICINIUS.
Pray you, go to him.

MENENIUS.
What should I do?

BRUTUS.
Only make trial what your love can do
For Rome, towards Marcius.

MENENIUS.
Well, and say that Marcius
Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
Unheard; what then?
But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
With his unkindness? Say't be so?

SICINIUS.
Yet your good-will
Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
As you intended well.

MENENIUS.
I'll undertake't;
I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip
And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me.
He was not taken well: he had not din'd;
The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll watch him
Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.

BRUTUS.
You know the very road into his kindness
And cannot lose your way.

MENENIUS.
Good faith, I'll prove him,
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success.

[Exit.]

COMINIUS.
He'll never hear him.

SICINIUS.
Not?

COMINIUS.
I tell you he does sit in gold, his eye
Red as 'twould burn Rome: and his injury
The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise'; dismissed me
Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do,
He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:
So that all hope is vain,
Unless his noble mother and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.

[Exeunt.]