Enter Volumnia.
I talk of you.
Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say I play
The man I am.
VOLUMNIA.
O, sir, sir, sir,
I would have had you put your power well on
Before you had worn it out.
CORIOLANUS.
Let go.
VOLUMNIA.
You might have been enough the man you are
With striving less to be so. Lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions if
You had not showed them how ye were disposed
Ere they lacked power to cross you.
CORIOLANUS.
Let them hang!
VOLUMNIA.
Ay, and burn too.
Enter Menenius with the Senators.
MENENIUS.
Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough.
You must return and mend it.
FIRST SENATOR.
There’s no remedy,
Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Cleave in the midst and perish.