The Tragedy of Coriolanus - Уильям Шекспир 2 стр.

Nay, let them follow:
The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither
To gnaw their garners.  Worshipful mutineers,
Your valour puts well forth: pray follow.

Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?

He has no equal.

When we were chosen tribunes for the people,

Mark'd you his lip and eyes?

Nay, but his taunts!

Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the gods.

Bemock the modest moon.

The present wars devour him: he is grown
Too proud to be so valiant.

Such a nature,
Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder
His insolence can brook to be commanded
Under Cominius.

Fame, at the which he aims,
In whom already he is well grac'd,  cannot
Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by
A place below the first: for what miscarries
Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
To th' utmost of a man; and giddy censure
Will then cry out of Marcius 'O, if he
Had borne the business!'

Besides, if things go well,
Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall
Of his demerits rob Cominius.

Come:
Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,
Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults
To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed,
In aught he merit not.

Let's hence and hear
How the dispatch is made; and in what fashion,
More than in singularity, he goes
Upon this present action.

Let's along.

So, your opinion is, Aufidius,
That they of Rome are enter'd in our counsels
And know how we proceed.

Is it not yours?
What ever have been thought on in this state,
That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome
Had circumvention! 'Tis not four days gone
Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think
I have the letter here; yes, here it is:

'They have pressed a power, but it is not known
Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;
The people mutinous: and it is rumour'd,
Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,
Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
These three lead on this preparation
Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you:
Consider of it.'

Our army's in the field:
We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready
To answer us.

Nor did you think it folly
To keep your great pretences veil'd till when
They needs must show themselves; which in the hatching,
It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery
We shall be shorten'd in our aim; which was,
To take in many towns ere, almost, Rome
Should know we were afoot.

Noble Aufidius,
Take your commission; hie you to your bands;
Let us alone to guard Corioli:
If they set down before's, for the remove
Bring up your army; but I think you'll find
They've not prepared for us.

O, doubt not that;
I speak from certainties. Nay, more,
Some parcels of their power are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike
Till one can do no more.

The gods assist you!

And keep your honours safe!

Farewell.

Farewell.
ALL. Farewell.

VOLUMNIA. I pray you, daughter, sing, or express yourself in a more comfortable sort; if my son were my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour than in the embracements of his bed where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way; when, for a day of kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding; I, considering how honour would become such a person; that it was no better than picture-like to hang by th' wall if renown made it not stir; was pleased to let him seek danger where he was to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.

But had he died in the business, madam? how then?

VOLUMNIA. Then his good report should have been my son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely,  had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.

Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.

Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.

Indeed you shall not.
Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum;
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair;
As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him:
Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:
'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear
Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes,
Like to a harvest-man that's tasked to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!

Away, you fool! It more becomes a man
Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood
At Grecian swords contending.  Tell Valeria
We are fit to bid her welcome.

Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.

Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.

Indeed you shall not.
Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum;
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair;
As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him:
Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:
'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear
Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes,
Like to a harvest-man that's tasked to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!

Away, you fool! It more becomes a man
Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood
At Grecian swords contending.  Tell Valeria
We are fit to bid her welcome.

Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!

He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee,
And tread upon his neck.

My ladies both, good-day to you.

Sweet madam.

I am glad to see your ladyship.
VALERIA. How do you both? you are manifest housekeepers. What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith.  How does your little son?

I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.

VOLUMNIA. He had rather see the swords and hear a drum than look upon his schoolmaster.

VALERIA. O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear 'tis a very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' Wednesday, half an hour together: has such a confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly; and when he caught it he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again; catched it again; or whether his fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth and tear it; O, I warrant, how he mammocked it!

One on's father's moods.

Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child.

A crack, madam.
VALERIA. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon.

No, good madam; I will not out of doors.

Not out of doors!

She shall, she shall.

VIRGILIA. Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the threshold till my lord return from the wars.

VALERIA. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably; come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.

VIRGILIA. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither.

Why, I pray you?

'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.

VALERIA. You would be another Penelope; yet they say all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity.  Come, you shall go with us.

No, good madam, pardon me; indeed I will not forth.
VALERIA. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

O, good madam, there can be none yet.
VALERIA. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.

Indeed, madam?

VALERIA. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.

VIRGILIA. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in everything hereafter.

VOLUMNIA. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.

VALERIA. In troth, I think she would.  Fare you well, then.  Come, good sweet lady.  Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o' door and go along with us.

No, at a word, madam; indeed I must not. I wish you much mirth.

Well then, farewell.

Yonder comes news: a wager they have met.

My horse to yours, no.

'Tis done.

Agreed.

Say, has our general met the enemy?

They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.

So, the good horse is mine.

I'll buy him of you.

No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will
For half a hundred years.  Summon the town.

How far off lie these armies?

Within this mile and half.

Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours.
Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work,
That we with smoking swords may march from hence
To help our fielded friends!  Come, blow thy blast.

Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls?

No, nor a man that fears you less than he,
That's lesser than a little.

Hark, our drums
Are bringing forth our youth! we'll break our walls
Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates,
Which yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with rushes;
They'll open of themselves.

Hark you far off!
There is Aufidius; list what work he makes
Amongst your cloven army.

O, they are at it!

Their noise be our instruction.  Ladders, ho!