Page:Coriolanus (1924) Yale.djvu/142

130

As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit

Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volsces

May say, 'This mercy we have show'd'; the Romans,

'This we receiv'd'; and each in either side

Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, 'Be bless'd

For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,

The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,

That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit

Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name

Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;

Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,

But with his last attempt he wip'd it out,

Destroy'd his country, and his name remains

To th' ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son!

Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,

To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,

And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt

That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?

Think'st thou it honourable for a nobleman

Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:

He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:

Perhaps thy childishness will move him more

Than can our reasons. There is no man in the world

More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate

Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life

Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy;

When she—poor hen! fond of no second brood—

Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,

 139 all-hail: formal acclamation

146 attempt: undertaking

it: his nobility

149 fine strains: special refinements

151 cheeks air; cf. n.

152, 153 And yet oak; cf. n.

159 prate: talk without result

160 one stocks: a prisoner who has nothing free but his voice

161 courtesy: particular favor

