Pry'thee now
Go and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather
Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.
[Enter Cominius.]
Com. I have been i' the market-place, and, sir, 'tis fit
You make STRONG PARTY, or defend yourself
By CALMNESS, or by ABSENCE. ALL's in anger.
Men. Only fair speech.
I think 'twill serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.
Vol. He must, and will.
Pry'thee now say you will and go about it.
Cor. Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? Must I
With my base tongue, give to my noble heart
A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't:
Yet were there but this single plot to lose,
This mould of Marcius, they, to dust should grind it,
And throw it against the wind;—to the market-place;
You have put me now to such a part, which never
I shall discharge to the life.
Com. Come, come, we'll prompt you.
Vol. I pry'thee now, sweet son, as thou hast said, My praises made thee first a soldier [—Volumnia—], so To have my praise for this, perform a part Than hast not done before.
Cor. Well, I must do't.
Away my disposition, and possess me
Some harlot's spirit! My throat of war be turned,
Which quired with my drum into a pipe!
Small as an eunuch's or the virgin voice
That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves
Tent in my cheeks; and school-boy's tears take up
The glasses of my sight! A beggar's tongue
Make motion through my lips; and my arm'd knees
Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his
That hath received an alms. I will not do't,
Lest I surcease to honor mine own truth,
And by my body's action teach my mind
A most inherent baseness.
Vol. At thy choice, then;
To beg of thee, it is my more dishonor
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear
Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
With as big a heart as thou. Do as thou list.
Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me,
But owe thy pride thyself.