“Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!
Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. Boy! False hound!
If you have writ your annals true, ’tis there,
That, like an eagle in a dovecote, I
Fluttered your Volsces in Corioli:
Alone I did it. Boy!”
The signalizing memorable mark of the Coriolanus impersonated by Forrest was the gigantic grandeur of his scale of being and consciousness. He revealed this in his stand and port and moving and look and voice. The manner in which he did it was no result of critical analysis, but was intuitive with him, given to him by nature and inspiration. He exhibited a gravitating solidity of person, a length of lines, a slowness of curves, an immensity of orbit, a reverberating sonority of tone, which illustrated the man who, as Menenius said, “wanted nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.” They went far to justify the amazing descriptions given in the play itself of the impressions produced by him on those who approached him.
“Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.