Читать книгу Coriolanus - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 2

  FIRST CITIZEN. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

  ALL. Speak, speak.

  FIRST CITIZEN. You are all resolv'd rather to die than to

famish?

  ALL. Resolv'd, resolv'd.

  FIRST CITIZEN. First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to

the

    people.

  ALL. We know't, we know't.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own

    price. Is't a verdict?

  ALL. No more talking on't; let it be done. Away, away!

  SECOND CITIZEN. One word, good citizens.

  FIRST CITIZEN. We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians

good.

    What authority surfeits on would relieve us; if they would

yield

    us but the superfluity while it were wholesome, we might

guess

    they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear.

The

    leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an

    inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is

a

    gain to them. Let us revenge this with our pikes ere we

become

    rakes; for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread,

not in

    thirst for revenge.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Would you proceed especially against Caius

Marcius?

  FIRST CITIZEN. Against him first; he's a very dog to the

    commonalty.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Consider you what services he has done for his

    country?

  FIRST CITIZEN. Very well, and could be content to give him good

    report for't but that he pays himself with being proud.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

  FIRST CITIZEN. I say unto you, what he hath done famously he

did it

    to that end; though soft-conscienc'd men can be content to

say it

    was for his country, he did it to please his mother and to be

    partly proud, which he is, even to the altitude of his

virtue.

  SECOND CITIZEN. What he cannot help in his nature you account a

    vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.

  FIRST CITIZEN. If I must not, I need not be barren of

accusations;

    he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts

    within] What shouts are these? The other side o' th' city is

    risen. Why stay we prating here? To th' Capitol!

  ALL. Come, come.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Soft! who comes here?

  SECOND CITIZEN. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always

lov'd

    the people.

  FIRST CITIZEN. He's one honest enough; would all the rest were

so!

  MENENIUS. What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you

    With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Our business is not unknown to th' Senate; they

have

    had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, which now

we'll

    show 'em in deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths;

    they shall know we have strong arms too.

  MENENIUS. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest

neighbours,

    Will you undo yourselves?

  FIRST CITIZEN. We cannot, sir; we are undone already.

  MENENIUS. I tell you, friends, most charitable care

    Have the patricians of you. For your wants,

    Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well

    Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them

    Against the Roman state; whose course will on

    The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs

    Of more strong link asunder than can ever

    Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,

    The gods, not the patricians, make it, and

    Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,

    You are transported by calamity

    Thither where more attends you; and you slander

    The helms o' th' state, who care for you like fathers,

    When you curse them as enemies.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er car'd for

us

    yet. Suffer us to famish, and their storehouses cramm'd with

    grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal

daily

    any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide

more

    piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If

the

    wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they

bear

    us.

  MENENIUS. Either you must

    Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,

    Or be accus'd of folly. I shall tell you

    A pretty tale. It may be you have heard it;

    But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture

    To stale't a little more.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Well, I'll hear it, sir; yet you must not think

to

    fob off our disgrace with a tale. But, an't please you,

deliver.

  MENENIUS. There was a time when all the body's members

    Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it:

    That only like a gulf it did remain

    I' th' midst o' th' body, idle and unactive,

    Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing

    Like labour with the rest; where th' other instruments

    Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,

    And, mutually participate, did minister

    Unto the appetite and affection common

    Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-

  FIRST CITIZEN. Well, sir, what answer made the belly?

  MENENIUS. Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,

    Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-

    For look you, I may make the belly smile

    As well as speak- it tauntingly replied

    To th' discontented members, the mutinous parts

    That envied his receipt; even so most fitly

    As you malign our senators for that

    They are not such as you.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Your belly's answer- What?

    The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,

    The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,

    Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,

    With other muniments and petty helps

    Is this our fabric, if that they-

  MENENIUS. What then?

    Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? What then?

  FIRST CITIZEN. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,

    Who is the sink o' th' body-

  MENENIUS. Well, what then?

  FIRST CITIZEN. The former agents, if they did complain,

    What could the belly answer?

  MENENIUS. I will tell you;

    If you'll bestow a small- of what you have little-

    Patience awhile, you'st hear the belly's answer.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Y'are long about it.

  MENENIUS. Note me this, good friend:

    Your most grave belly was deliberate,

    Not rash like his accusers, and thus answered.

    'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he

    'That I receive the general food at first

    Which you do live upon; and fit it is,

    Because I am the storehouse and the shop

    Of the whole body. But, if you do remember,

    I send it through the rivers of your blood,

    Even to the court, the heart, to th' seat o' th' brain;

    And, through the cranks and offices of man,

    The strongest nerves and small inferior veins

    From me receive that natural competency

    Whereby they live. And though that all at once

    You, my good friends'– this says the belly; mark me.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Ay, sir; well, well.

  MENENIUS. 'Though all at once cannot

    See what I do deliver out to each,

    Yet I can make my audit up, that all

    From me do back receive the flour of all,

    And leave me but the bran.' What say you to' t?

  FIRST CITIZEN. It was an answer. How apply you this?

  MENENIUS. The senators of Rome are this good belly,

    And you the mutinous members; for, examine

    Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly

    Touching the weal o' th' common, you shall find

    No public benefit which you receive

    But it proceeds or comes from them to you,

    And no way from yourselves. What do you think,

    You, the great toe of this assembly?

  FIRST CITIZEN. I the great toe? Why the great toe?

  MENENIUS. For that, being one o' th' lowest, basest, poorest,

    Of this most wise rebellion, thou goest foremost.

    Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,

    Lead'st first to win some vantage.

    But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs.

    Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;

    The one side must have bale.

    Hail, noble Marcius!

  MARCIUS. Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues

    That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,

    Make yourselves scabs?

  FIRST CITIZEN. We have ever your good word.

  MARCIUS. He that will give good words to thee will flatter

    Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,

    That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you,

    The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,

    Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;

    Where foxes, geese; you are no surer, no,

    Than is the coal of fire upon the ice

    Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is

    To make him worthy whose offence subdues him,

    And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness

    Deserves your hate; and your affections are

    A sick man's appetite, who desires most that

    Which would increase his evil. He that depends

    Upon your favours swims with fins of lead,

    And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?

    With every minute you do change a mind

    And call him noble that was now your hate,

    Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter

    That in these several places of the city

    You cry against the noble Senate, who,

    Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else

    Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?

  MENENIUS. For corn at their own rates, whereof they say

    The city is well stor'd.

  MARCIUS. Hang 'em! They say!

    They'll sit by th' fire and presume to know

    What's done i' th' Capitol, who's like to rise,

    Who thrives and who declines; side factions, and give out

    Conjectural marriages, making parties strong,

    And feebling such as stand not in their liking

    Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's grain enough!

    Would the nobility lay aside their ruth

    And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry

    With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high

    As I could pick my lance.

  MENENIUS. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;

    For though abundantly they lack discretion,

    Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,

    What says the other troop?

  MARCIUS. They are dissolv'd. Hang 'em!

    They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs-

    That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,

    That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not

    Corn for the rich men only. With these shreds

    They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,

    And a petition granted them- a strange one,

    To break the heart of generosity

    And make bold power look pale- they threw their caps

    As they would hang them on the horns o' th' moon,

    Shouting their emulation.

  MENENIUS. What is granted them?

  MARCIUS. Five tribunes, to defend their vulgar wisdoms,

    Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus-

    Sicinius Velutus, and I know not. 'Sdeath!

    The rabble should have first unroof'd the city

    Ere so prevail'd with me; it will in time

    Win upon power and throw forth greater themes

    For insurrection's arguing.

  MENENIUS. This is strange.

  MARCIUS. Go get you home, you fragments.

  MESSENGER. Where's Caius Marcius?

  MARCIUS. Here. What's the matter?

  MESSENGER. The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.

  MARCIUS. I am glad on't; then we shall ha' means to vent

    Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.

  FIRST SENATOR. Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us:

    The Volsces are in arms.

  MARCIUS. They have a leader,

    Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't.

    I sin in envying his nobility;

    And were I anything but what I am,

    I would wish me only he.

  COMINIUS. You have fought together?

  MARCIUS. Were half to half the world by th' ears, and he

    Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make

    Only my wars with him. He is a lion

    That I am proud to hunt.

  FIRST SENATOR. Then, worthy Marcius,

    Attend upon Cominius to these wars.

  COMINIUS. It is your former promise.

  MARCIUS. Sir, it is;

    And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou

    Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.

    What, art thou stiff? Stand'st out?

  LARTIUS. No, Caius Marcius;

    I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other

    Ere stay behind this business.

  MENENIUS. O, true bred!

  FIRST SENATOR. Your company to th' Capitol; where, I know,

    Our greatest friends attend us.

  LARTIUS. [To COMINIUS] Lead you on.

    [To MARCIUS] Follow Cominius; we must follow you;

    Right worthy your priority.

  COMINIUS. Noble Marcius!

  FIRST SENATOR. [To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be

gone.

  MARCIUS. Nay, let them follow.

    The Volsces have much corn: take these rats thither

    To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutineers,

    Your valour puts well forth; pray follow.

         Ciitzens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS

  SICINIUS. Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?

  BRUTUS. He has no equal.

  SICINIUS. When we were chosen tribunes for the people-

  BRUTUS. Mark'd you his lip and eyes?

  SICINIUS. Nay, but his taunts!

  BRUTUS. Being mov'd, he will not spare to gird the gods.

  SICINIUS. Bemock the modest moon.

  BRUTUS. The present wars devour him! He is grown

    Too proud to be so valiant.

  SICINIUS. Such a nature,

    Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow

    Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder

    His insolence can brook to be commanded

    Under Cominius.

  BRUTUS. Fame, at the which he aims-

    In whom already he is well grac'd- cannot

    Better be held nor more attain'd than by

    A place below the first; for what miscarries

    Shall be the general's fault, though he perform

    To th' utmost of a man, and giddy censure

    Will then cry out of Marcius 'O, if he

    Had borne the business!'

  SICINIUS. Besides, if things go well,

    Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall

    Of his demerits rob Cominius.

  BRUTUS. Come.

    Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,

    Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults

    To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed

    In aught he merit not.

  SICINIUS. Let's hence and hear

    How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,

    More than his singularity, he goes

    Upon this present action.

  BRUTUS. Let's along. Exeunt