The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare

To speak with Coriolanus.

1 G. From whence?

Men. From Rome.

to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to thee; but being assured, none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out of your gates with sighs;

1 G. You may not pass, you must return: our and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy petitiogeneral

Will no more hear from thence.

nary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this,

2 G. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire,before who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.

You'll speak with Coriolanus.

Men. Good my friends,

If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks,

My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.

1 G. Be it so; go back! the virtue of your name

Is not here passable.

Men. I tell thee, fellow,

Thy general is my lover: I have been

Cor. Away!

Men. How! away?

Cor. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs Are servanted to others: though I owe

My revenge properly, my remission lies

In Volcian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone
Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than

The book of his good acts, whence men have read Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,

His fame unparallel'd, haply, amplified;
For I have ever verified my friends,

(Of whom he's chief,) with all the size that verity
Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes,
Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,

I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow,
I must have leave to pass.

1 G. 'Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his
behalf, as you have uttered words in your own, you
should not pass here: no, though it were as virtuous
to lie, as to live chastely. Therefore, go back!
Men. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Me-
nenius,always factionary on the party of your genera.
2 G. Howsoever you have been his liar, (as you say,
you have,) I am one that, telling true under him,
must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back!
Men. Has he dined, can'st thou tell? for I would
not speak with him till after dinner.
1 G. You are a Roman, are you?
Men. I am as thy general is.

1 G. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the very defender of them, and, in a violent popular ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant, as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.

Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation.

2 G. Come, my captain knows you not. Men. I mean, thy general.

1 G. My general cares not for you. Back, go! lest I let forth your half pint of blood! -that's the utmost of your having !— back! Men. Nay, but fellow, fellow,

I say,
back,

Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS.

Cor. What's the matter?

Take this along; I writ it for thy sake,

[Gives a letter.
And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius,
I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,
Was my belov'd in Rome: yet thou behold'st-
Auf. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. 1 G. Now, sir, is your name Menenius? 2 G. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the way home again.

1 G. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back? 2 G. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? Men. I neither care for the world, nor your general: for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, you are so slight. He, that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not from another. Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was said to, Away!

SCENE III. The tent of CORIOLANUS.
Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and Others.
Cor. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow
Set down our host. My partner in this action,
You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly
have borne this business.
Auf. Only their ends

Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, Lov'd me above the measure of a father; Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge Was to send him; for whose old love, I have (Though I show'd sourly to him,) once more offer'd The first conditions, which they did refuse, And cannot now accept, to grace him only, That thought he could do more; a very little Men. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for I have yielded too: fresh embassies, and suits, you; you shall know now, that I am in estimation; Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter you shall perceive, that a Jack guardant cannot Will I lend ear to. - Ha! what shout is this? office me from my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment with him, if thou stand'st not i'the Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow state of hanging, or of some death more long in In the same time 'tis made? I will not. spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, Volumnia, presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants. The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould particular prosperity, and love thee no worse, than Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand thy old father Menenius does! O, my son! my son! The grand-child to her blood. But, out, affection! thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's water All bond and privilege of nature, break!

Let it be virtuous, to be obstinate. —-
What is that curt'sey worth? or those dove's eyes,
Which can make gods forsworn? - I melt, and am not
Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows;
As if Olympus to a molehill should'
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great nature cries, Deny not.

Let the Volces
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand,
As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin.

Vir. My lord and husband!

Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. Vir. The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think so.

Cor. Like a dull actor now,

I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
For that, Forgive our Romans. - O, a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
Now by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it c'er since. - You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i'the earth!

Of thy deep duty more impression show
Than that of common sons.

Which you deny already. Yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness; therefore hear us!
Cor. Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment,
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself,
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which
should

[Kneels.

Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,

Vol. 0, stand up bless'd!

I kneel before thee; and unproperly Show duty, as mistaken all the while Between the child and parent.

Cor. What is this?

[Kneels.

Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.
Vol. Thou art my warrior;

I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,
The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria!
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

Cor. The god of soldiers,

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,

Constrains them weep, and shake with fear and sorrow;
Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out; and to poor we,
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy: for how can we,
Alas! how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are Lound; together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse; or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till
The wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st prove
To shame unvulnerable, and stick i'the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
And saving those that eye thee!

Vol. Your kuce, sirrah!

Cor. That's my brave boy.

Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you.

Cor. I beseech you, peace!

Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;

Vir. Ay, and on mine,

That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time.

Boy. He shall not tread on me;

I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.

Vol. Nay, go not from us thus.

[Rising

If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
As poisonous of your honour. No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say, This mercy we have show'd; the Romans,
This we receiv'd; and each in their side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry: Be bless'd
For making up this peace! Thou know'st, great 508,
The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ,
The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wip'd it out;

The things, I have forsworn to grant, may never Destroy'd his country; and his name remains

Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanics. - Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not

To allay my rages and revenges, with

Your colder reasons.

Vol. 0, no more, no more!

You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that

son!

To the ensuing age, abhorr'd. Speak to me,
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o'the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man

Still to remember wrongs? - Daughter, speak y
He cares not for your weeping. - Speak thou, by

Perhaps thy childishness will move him more,
Than can our reasons. There is no man in the world
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i'the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy;
When she, (poor hen!) fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars, and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: but, if it be not so,.
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
Down, ladies! let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; an end;
This is the last: --so we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours. -Nay, behold us:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't. - Come, let us go;
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.

Cor. O mother, mother!

ope,

[Holding Volumnia by the hands, silent.
What have you done? Behold the heavens do
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
You have won a håppy victory to Rome:
But, for your son, -believe it, O, believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
If not most mortal to him. But, let it come:-
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, say, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was mov'd withal.

Cor. I dare be sworn, you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing, to make

Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you
Stand to me in this cause. -O mother! wife!
Auf. I am glad, thou hast set thy mercy and thy

honour

At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune.

[Aside.
[The Ladies make signs to Coriolanus.
Cor. Ay, by and by; [To l'olumnia, Virgilia, etc.
But we will drink together: and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you: all the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Rome. A public place.
Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS.

Men. See you yond' coign o'the Capitol; yond'

corner-stone?

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution.

Sic. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub, and a

butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now, than an eight year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.

Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is 'long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them; and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house;
The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune,
And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.
Enter another Messenger.

Sic. What's the news?
Mess. Good news, good news;
prevail'd,

the ladies have

The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
Sic. Friend,

Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
Mess. As certain, as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark
you! [Trumpets and hautboys sounded, and
drums beaten, all together. Shouting
also within.

The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, aud cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
Make the sun dance. Hark you! [Shouting again.
Men. This is good news:

I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,

A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning, for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and music.
Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tidings: next,
Accept my thankfulness.

Mess. Sir, we have all

Great cause to give great thanks.
Sic. They are near the city?
Mess. Almost at point to enter.
Sic. We will meet them,
And help the joy.

[Going.

Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Pa-
tricians, and People. They pass over the stage.
1 Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome:
Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: ·
Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius;
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
Cry,-Welcome, ladies, welcome! -

All. Welcome, ladies! Welcome!

Ere he express himself, or move the people

[A flourish with drums and trumpets. With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
[Exeunt. Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury
His reasons with his body.

SCENEV. - Antium. A public place.
Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the lords of the city, I am here:
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse,
The city ports by this hath enter'd, aud
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words: Dispatch!
[Exeunt Attendants.
Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction.
Most welcome!

1 Con. How is it with our general?
Auf. Even so,

As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.

2 Con. Most noble sir,

If you do hold the same intent, wherein

You wish'd us parties, well deliver you
Of your great danger.

Auf. Sir, I cannot tell;

We must proceed, as we do find the people.

Auf. Say no more;

Here come the lords.

Enter the Lords of the city.
Lords. You are most welcome home.
Auf. I have not deserv'd it;

But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you?

8 Con. The people will remain uncertain, whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

Auf. I know it;

And my pretext to strike at him admits

Lords. We have.

1 Lord. And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin; and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge; making a treaty, where
There was a yielding. This admits no excuse.
Auf. He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter CORIOLANUS, with drums and colours; a crowd
of Citizens with him.

A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con. Sir, his stoutness,

When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf. That I would have spoke of:

Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner; and
He wag'd me with his countenance, as if

Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier;
No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home,
Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o'the senate, what
We have compounded on.

For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

Auf. Read it not, noble lords;

But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.

[Drums and trumpets sound, with great
shouts of the people.

1 Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.

2 Con. And patient fools,

Cor. Traitor! How now?
Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius.

Cor. Marcius!

Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; dost thou think
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?-

You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome
(I say, your city,) to his wife and mother:
Breaking his bath and resolution, like
A twist of rotten silk; never admitting
Counsel o'the war; but at his nurse's tears
He whiu'd and roar'd away your victory;
That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars!

Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears,—

Cor. Ha!

Auf. No more.

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever was forc'd to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,

Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion
(Who wears my stripes impress'd on him; that must

bear

My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust

The lie unto him.

Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear, 1 Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak!

If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,

That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli:

Alone I did it. - Boy!

Auf. Why, noble lords!

Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
'Fore your own eyes and ears?
Con. Let him die for't!

[Several speak at once. Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.] Tear him to pieces, do it presently. He killed my son; my daughter; -He killed my cousin Marcus; he killed my father.2 Lord. Peace, ho -no outrage! - peace! The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o'the earth. His last offence to us Shall have judicious hearing.—Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace!

Cor. O, that I had him,

With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!

Auf. Insolent villain!

Con. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

[Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius

stands on him.

Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold! Auf. My noble masters, hear me speak! 1 Lord. O Tullus,

2 Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

3 Lord. Tread not upon him!- Masters all, be quiet;

Put up your swords!

Auf. My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage, Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours To call me to your senate, I'll deliver Myself your loyal servant, or endure Your heaviest censure.

1 Lord. Bear from hence his body,

And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse, that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.

2 Lord. His own impatience

Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.

Auf. My rage is gone,

And I am struck with sorrow. - Take him up!-
Help, three o'the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes.-Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and uncbilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory!
Assist! [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus.
A dead march sounded.

CINNA,

conspirators against Julius Caesar.

FLAVIUS and MARULLUS, tribunes.
ARTEMIDORUS, a sophist of Cnidos.
A Soothsayer.

CINNA, a poet. Another Poet.

LUCILIUS, TITINius, Messala, young Сsão, and VoLUMNIUS; friends to Brutus and Cassius.

VARRO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRAto, Lucius, DardaNIUS; servants to Brutus.

PINDARUS, servant to Cassius.

CALPHURNIA, wife to Caesar.

PORTIA, wife to Brutus.

Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, etc.

SCENE,- During a great part of the play, at Rome; afterwards at Sardis; and near Philippi.

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Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on? You, sir; what trade are you?

2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thon saucy fellow?

2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you.

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl:

2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, II meddle with no tradesman's masters, nor women's am but, as you would say, a cobbler.

matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon

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