CORIOLANUS
No more of this; it does offend my heart:
Pray now, no more.
COMINIUS
Look, sir, your mother!
CORIOLANUS
O,
You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
For my prosperity!
Kneels
VOLUMNIA
Nay, my good soldier, up;
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
By deed-achieving honour newly named,–
What is it?–Coriolanus must I call thee?–
But O, thy wife!
CORIOLANUS
My gracious silence, hail!
Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home,
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear,
Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
And mothers that lack sons.
MENENIUS
Now, the gods crown thee!
CORIOLANUS
And live you yet?
To VALERIA
O my sweet lady, pardon.
VOLUMNIA
I know not where to turn: O, welcome home:
And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all.
MENENIUS
A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep
And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome.
A curse begin at very root on's heart,
That is not glad to see thee! You are three
That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men,
We have some old crab-trees here
at home that will not
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:
We call a nettle but a nettle and
The faults of fools but folly.
COMINIUS
Ever right.
CORIOLANUS
Menenius ever, ever.
Herald
Give way there, and go on!