ACT III.
3. SCENE III. Rome. The Forum.
(continued)
CORIOLANUS.
What is the matter,
That being pass'd for consul with full voice,
I am so dishonour'd that the very hour
You take it off again?
SICINIUS.
Answer to us.
CORIOLANUS.
Say then: 'tis true, I ought so.
SICINIUS.
We charge you that you have contriv'd to take
From Rome all season'd office, and to wind
Yourself into a power tyrannical;
For which you are a traitor to the people.
CORIOLANUS.
How! traitor!
MENENIUS.
Nay, temperately; your promise.
CORIOLANUS.
The fires i' the lowest hell fold in the people!
Call me their traitor!--Thou injurious tribune!
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say,
Thou liest unto thee with a voice as free
As I do pray the gods.
SICINIUS.
Mark you this, people?
CITIZENS.
To the rock, to the rock, with him!
SICINIUS.
Peace!
We need not put new matter to his charge:
What you have seen him do and heard him speak,
Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,
Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying
Those whose great power must try him; even this,
So criminal and in such capital kind,
Deserves the extremest death.
BRUTUS.
But since he hath
Serv'd well for Rome,--
CORIOLANUS.
What do you prate of service?
BRUTUS.
I talk of that that know it.
CORIOLANUS.
You?
MENENIUS.
Is this the promise that you made your mother?
COMINIUS.
Know, I pray you,--
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