THIRD CITIZEN.
We have been called so of many; not that our heads are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, but that our wits are so diversely coloured; and truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, and their consent of one direct way should be at once to all the points o’ th’ compass.
SECOND CITIZEN.
Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would fly?
THIRD CITIZEN.
Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man’s will; ’tis strongly wedged up in a blockhead. But if it were at liberty, ’twould, sure, southward.
SECOND CITIZEN.
Why that way?
THIRD CITIZEN.
To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return for conscience’ sake, to help to get thee a wife.
SECOND CITIZEN.
You are never without your tricks. You may, you may.
THIRD CITIZEN.
Are you all resolved to give your voices? But that’s no matter; the greater part carries it. I say, if he would incline to the people, there was never a worthier man.
Enter Coriolanus in a gown of humility, with Menenius.
Here he comes, and in the gown of humility. Mark his behaviour. We are not to stay all together, but to come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and by threes. He’s to make his requests by particulars, wherein everyone of us has a single honour in giving him our own voices with our own tongues. Therefore follow me, and I’ll direct you how you shall go by him.
ALL.
Content, content.