CORIOLANUS: I muse my mother Does not approve me further, who was wont To call them woollen vassals, things created To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, When one but of my ordinance stood up To speak of peace or war. 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.