CORIOLANUS.
“Traitor?” How now?
AUFIDIUS.
Ay, traitor, Martius.
CORIOLANUS.
Martius?
AUFIDIUS.
Ay, Martius, Caius Martius. Dost thou think
I’ll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol’n name
Coriolanus, in Corioles?
You lords and heads o’ th’ state, perfidiously
He has betrayed your business and given up
For certain drops of salt your city Rome—
I say your city—to his wife and mother,
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
Counsel o’ th’ war, but at his nurse’s tears
He whined and roared away your victory,
That pages blushed at him and men of heart
Looked wond’ring each at other.
CORIOLANUS.
Hear’st thou, Mars?
AUFIDIUS.
Name not the god, thou boy of tears.
CORIOLANUS.
Ha?
AUFIDIUS.
No more.
CORIOLANUS.
Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. “Boy”? O slave!—
Pardon me, lords, ’tis the first time that ever
I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie; and his own notion—
Who wears my stripes impressed upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave—shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.
FIRST LORD.
Peace, both, and hear me speak.