Page:Coriolanus (1924) Yale.djvu/130

118

Com. I 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.

Men. Very well.

Could he say less?

Com. I offer'd to awaken his regard

For 's private friends: his answer to me was,

He could not stay to pick them in a pile

Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly,

For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt

And still to nose th' offence.

Men. For one poor grain or two!

I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child,

And this brave fellow too, we are the grains:

You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt

Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.

Sic. Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid

In this so-never-needed help, yet do not

Upbraid 's with our distress. But, sure, if you

Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,

More than the instant army we can make,

Might stop our countryman.

Men. No; I'll not meddle.

Sic. Pray you, go to him.

Men. What should I do?

Bru. Only make trial what your love can do

For Rome towards Martius.

Men. Well; and say that Martius

Return me, as Cominius is return'd,

 18 minded: reminded

20 bare: threadbare, poor

23 offer'd: presumed

28 nose: smell

offence: nuisance, offensive matter

37 instant: capable of being raised at once

42 towards: in relation to

