Bru. Most willingly;
But yet my caution was more pertinent 68
Than the rebuke you give it.
Men. He loves your people;
But tie him not to be their bedfellow.
Worthy Cominius, speak.
Nay, keep your place.
Sen. Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear 72
What you have nobly done.
Cor. Your honours' pardon:
I had rather have my wounds to heal again
Than hear say how I got them.
Bru. Sir, I hope
My words disbench'd you not.
Cor. No, sir: yet oft, 76
When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.
You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not. But your people,
I love them as they weigh—
Men. Pray now, sit down.
Cor. I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun 80
When the alarum were struck than idly sit
To hear my nothings monster'd. Exit Coriolanus.
Men. Masters of the people,
Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter,—
That's thousand to one good one,—when you now see 84
He had rather venture all his limbs for honour
Than one on 's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius.
Com. I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
76 disbench'd: unseated
78 sooth'd: flattered
79 as they weigh: according to their worth
82 monster'd: grotesquely exaggerated
84 That's . . . good one: of whom only one in a thousand is good
