A room in Coriolanus’ house.
Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians
Let them puff all about mine ears, present me
Death on the wheel or at wild horses’ heels,
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
That the precipitation might down stretch
5Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
Be thus to them.
You do the nobler.
I muse my mother
Does not approve me further, who was wont
10To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder,
When one but of my ordinance stood up
To speak of peace or war.
15I talk of you:
Why did you wish me milder? would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say I play
The man I am.
O, sir, sir, sir,
20I would have had you put your power well on,
Before you had worn it out.