Page:Coriolanus (1924) Yale.djvu/62

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Was tim'd with dying cries: alone he enter'd

The mortal gate of the city, which he painted

With shunless destiny; aidless came off,

And with a sudden re-enforcement struck

Corioli like a planet. Now all's his:

When by and by the din of war 'gan pierce

His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit

Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate,

And to the battle came he; where he did

Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if

'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we call'd

Both field and city ours, he never stood

To ease his breast with panting.

Men. Worthy man!

Sen. He cannot but with measure fit the honours

Which we devise him.

Com. Our spoils he kick'd at,

And look'd upon things precious as they were

The common muck o' the world: he covets less

Than misery itself would give; rewards

His deeds with doing them, and is content

To spend the time to end it.

Men. He’s right noble:

Let him be call'd for.

Sen. Call Coriolanus.

Off. He doth appear.

Men. The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleas'd

To make thee consul.

Cor. I do owe them still

My life and services.

 116, 117 painted destiny: stained with the blood of those who could not escape their doom

120 by and by: immediately

122 fatigate: wearied

129 kick'd at: scorned

130 as: as if

134 to end it: merely to kill time

