Rome. A public place.
Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others
No, I’ll not go: you hear what he hath said
Which was sometime his general; who loved him
In a most dear particular. He call’d me father:
But what o’ that? Go, you that banish’d him;
5A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy’d
To hear Cominius speak, I’ll keep at home.
He would not seem to know me.
10Yet one time he did call me by my name:
I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. Coriolanus
He would not answer to: forbad all names;
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
15Till he had forged himself a name o’ the fire
Of burning Rome.
Why, so: you have made good work!
A pair of tribunes that have rack’d for Rome,
To make coals cheap,—a noble memory!
20I minded him how royal ’twas to pardon
When it was less expected: he replied,
It was a bare petition of a state
To one whom they had punish’d.