Act II, Scene I — Rome. A public place
Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius and Brutus.
MENENIUS. The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight.
BRUTUS. Good or bad?
MENENIUS. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Martius.
SICINIUS. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
MENENIUS. Pray you, who does the wolf love?
SICINIUS. The lamb.
MENENIUS. Ay, to devour him, as the hungry plebeians would the noble Martius.
BRUTUS. He’s a lamb indeed, that baas like a bear.
MENENIUS. He’s a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, sir.
MENENIUS. In what enormity is Martius poor in, that you two have not in abundance?
BRUTUS. He’s poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
SICINIUS. Especially in pride.
BRUTUS. And topping all others in boasting.
MENENIUS. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o’ th’ right-hand file, do you?
BOTH TRIBUNES. Why, how are we censured?
MENENIUS. Because you talk of pride now, will you not be angry?
BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, well, sir, well?
MENENIUS. Why, ’tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. Give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures, at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame Martius for being proud.
BRUTUS. We do it not alone, sir.
MENENIUS. I know you can do very little alone, for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single. Your abilities are too infantlike for doing much alone. You talk of pride. O that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could!
BOTH TRIBUNES. What then, sir?
MENENIUS. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as any in Rome.
SICINIUS. Menenius, you are known well enough, too.
MENENIUS. I am known to be a humorous patrician and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in’t; said to be something imperfect in favouring the first complaint, hasty and tinder-like upon too trivial motion; one that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning. What I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as you are—I cannot call you Lycurguses—if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot say your Worships have delivered the matter well when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables. And though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough, too?
BRUTUS. Come, sir, come; we know you well enough.
MENENIUS. You know neither me, yourselves, nor anything. You are ambitious for poor knaves’ caps and legs. You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and a faucet-seller, and then rejourn the controversy of threepence to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing. All the peace you make in their cause is calling both the parties knaves. You are a pair of strange ones.
BRUTUS. Come, come. You are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.
MENENIUS. Our very priests must become mockers if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards, and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher’s cushion or to be entombed in an ass’s packsaddle. Yet you must be saying Martius is proud, who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the best of ’em were hereditary hangmen. Good e’en to your Worships. More of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave of you.
[He begins to exit. Brutus and Sicinius stand aside.]
Enter Volumnia, Virgilia and Valeria
How now, my as fair as noble ladies—and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler—whither do you follow your eyes so fast?
VOLUMNIA. Honourable Menenius, my boy Martius approaches. For the love of Juno, let’s go!
MENENIUS. Ha? Martius coming home?
VOLUMNIA. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation.
MENENIUS. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee! Hoo! Martius coming home?
VALERIA, VIRGILIA. Nay, ’tis true.
VOLUMNIA. Look, here’s a letter from him. The state hath another, his wife another, and I think there’s one at home for you.
MENENIUS. I will make my very house reel tonight. A letter for me?
VIRGILIA. Yes, certain, there’s a letter for you; I saw it.
MENENIUS. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years’ health, in which time I will make a lip at the physician. The most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse drench. Is he not wounded? He was wont to come home wounded.
VIRGILIA. O, no, no, no!
VOLUMNIA. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for’t.
MENENIUS. So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings he victory in his pocket, the wounds become him.
VOLUMNIA. On’s brows, Menenius. He comes the third time home with the oaken garland.
MENENIUS. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?
VOLUMNIA. Titus Lartius writes they fought together, but Aufidius got off.
MENENIUS. And ’twas time for him too, I’ll warrant him that. An he had stayed by him, I would not have been so ’fidiused for all the chests in Corioles and the gold that’s in them. Is the Senate possessed of this?
VOLUMNIA. Good ladies, let’s go.—Yes, yes, yes. The Senate has letters from the General, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war. He hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.
VALERIA. In troth, there’s wondrous things spoke of him.
MENENIUS. Wondrous? Ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.
VIRGILIA. The gods grant them true.
VOLUMNIA. True? Pow, waw!
MENENIUS. True? I’ll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? [To the Tribunes.] God save your good Worships! Martius is coming home; he has more cause to be proud.—Where is he wounded?
VOLUMNIA. I’ th’ shoulder and i’ th’ left arm. There will be large cicatrices to show the people when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i’ th’ body.
MENENIUS. One i’ th’ neck and two i’ th’ thigh—there’s nine that I know.
VOLUMNIA. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.
MENENIUS. Now it’s twenty-seven. Every gash was an enemy’s grave.
[A shout and flourish.]
Hark, the trumpets!
VOLUMNIA. These are the ushers of Martius: before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. Death, that dark spirit, in’s nervy arm doth lie, Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.
[A sennet.]
Enter Cominius the General and Titus Lartius, between them Coriolanus crowned with an oaken garland, with Captains and Soldiers and a Herald. Trumpets sound.
HERALD. Know, Rome, that all alone Martius did fight Within Corioles’ gates, where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Martius; these In honour follows “Coriolanus.” Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.
[Sound flourish.]
ALL. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
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, petitioned all the gods For my prosperity.
[Kneels.]
VOLUMNIA. Nay, my good soldier, up.
[He stands.]
My gentle Martius, 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 laughed had I come coffined home, That weep’st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, Such eyes the widows in Corioles 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 you’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!
CORIOLANUS. [To Volumnia and Virgilia.] Your hand, and yours. Ere in our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited, From whom I have received not only greetings, But with them change of honours.
VOLUMNIA. I have lived To see inherited my very wishes And the buildings of my fancy. Only There’s one thing wanting, which I doubt not but Our Rome will cast upon thee.
CORIOLANUS. Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way Than sway with them in theirs.
COMINIUS. On, to the Capitol.
[Flourish of cornets. Exeunt in state, as before.]
Brutus and Sicinius come forward.
BRUTUS. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry While she chats him. The kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram ’bout her reechy neck, Clamb’ring the walls to eye him. Stalls, bulks, windows Are smothered up, leads filled, and ridges horsed With variable complexions, all agreeing In earnestness to see him. Seld-shown flamens Do press among the popular throngs and puff To win a vulgar station. Our veiled dames Commit the war of white and damask in Their nicely-gauded cheeks to th’ wanton spoil Of Phoebus’ burning kisses. Such a pother, As if that whatsoever god who leads him Were slyly crept into his human powers And gave him graceful posture.
SICINIUS. On the sudden I warrant him consul.
BRUTUS. Then our office may, During his power, go sleep.
SICINIUS. He cannot temp’rately transport his honours From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won.
BRUTUS. In that there’s comfort.
SICINIUS. Doubt not the commoners, for whom we stand, But they, upon their ancient malice will forget With the least cause these his new honours—which That he will give them make as little question As he is proud to do’t.
BRUTUS. I heard him swear, Were he to stand for consul, never would he Appear i’ th’ marketplace nor on him put The napless vesture of humility, Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds To th’ people, beg their stinking breaths.
SICINIUS. ’Tis right.
BRUTUS. It was his word. O, he would miss it rather Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him And the desire of the nobles.
SICINIUS. I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose and to put it In execution.
BRUTUS. ’Tis most like he will.
SICINIUS. It shall be to him then, as our good wills, A sure destruction.
BRUTUS. So it must fall out To him, or our authorities for an end. We must suggest the people in what hatred He still hath held them; that to’s power he would Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders, and Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them In human action and capacity Of no more soul nor fitness for the world Than camels in their war, who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them.
SICINIUS. This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall touch the people—which time shall not want If it be put upon’t, and that’s as easy As to set dogs on sheep—will be his fire To kindle their dry stubble, and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.
Enter a Messenger.
BRUTUS. What’s the matter?
MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Capitol. ’Tis thought That Martius shall be consul. I have seen The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind to hear him speak; matrons flung gloves, Ladies and maids their scarves and handkerchiefs, Upon him as he passed; the nobles bended As to Jove’s statue, and the Commons made A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts. I never saw the like.
BRUTUS. Let’s to the Capitol; And carry with us ears and eyes for th’ time, But hearts for the event.
SICINIUS. Have with you.
[Exeunt.]
Act II, Scene II — Rome. The Capitol
Enter two Officers, to lay cushions, as it were in the Capitol.
FIRST OFFICER. Come, come. They are almost here. How many stand for consulships?
SECOND OFFICER. Three, they say; but ’tis thought of everyone Coriolanus will carry it.
FIRST OFFICER. That’s a brave fellow, but he’s vengeance proud and loves not the common people.
SECOND OFFICER. ’Faith, there have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne’er loved them; and there be many that they have loved they know not wherefore; so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground. Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate him manifests the true knowledge he has in their disposition and, out of his noble carelessness, lets them plainly see’t.
FIRST OFFICER. If he did not care whether he had their love or no, he waved indifferently ’twixt doing them neither good nor harm; but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can render it him and leaves nothing undone that may fully discover him their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.
SECOND OFFICER. He hath deserved worthily of his country, and his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, without any further deed to have them at all into their estimation and report; but he hath so planted his honours in their eyes and his actions in their hearts that for their tongues to be silent and not confess so much were a kind of ingrateful injury. To report otherwise were a malice that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.
FIRST OFFICER. No more of him; he’s a worthy man. Make way. They are coming.
A sennet. Enter the Patricians and the Tribunes of the people, Lictors before them; Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius the consul. The Patricians sit. Sicinius and Brutus take their places by themselves. Coriolanus stands.
MENENIUS. Having determined of the Volsces and To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, As the main point of this our after-meeting, To gratify his noble service that Hath thus stood for his country. Therefore please you, Most reverend and grave elders, to desire The present consul and last general In our well-found successes to report A little of that worthy work performed By Martius Caius Coriolanus, whom We met here both to thank and to remember With honours like himself.
[Coriolanus sits.]
FIRST SENATOR. Speak, good Cominius. Leave nothing out for length, and make us think Rather our state’s defective for requital, Than we to stretch it out. Masters o’ th’ people, We do request your kindest ears and, after, Your loving motion toward the common body To yield what passes here.
SICINIUS. We are convented Upon a pleasing treaty and have hearts Inclinable to honour and advance The theme of our assembly.
BRUTUS. Which the rather We shall be blest to do if he remember A kinder value of the people than He hath hereto prized them at.
MENENIUS. That’s off, that’s off! I would you rather had been silent. Please you To hear Cominius speak?
BRUTUS. Most willingly. But yet my caution was more pertinent Than the rebuke you give it.
MENENIUS. He loves your people, But tie him not to be their bedfellow.— Worthy Cominius, speak.
[Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away.]
Nay, keep your place.
FIRST SENATOR. Sit, Coriolanus. Never shame to hear What you have nobly done.
CORIOLANUS. Your Honours, pardon. I had rather have my wounds to heal again Than hear say how I got them.
BRUTUS. Sir, I hope My words disbenched you not?
CORIOLANUS. No, sir. Yet oft, When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. You soothed not, therefore hurt not; but your people, I love them as they weigh.
MENENIUS. Pray now, sit down.
CORIOLANUS. I had rather have one scratch my head i’ th’ sun When the alarum were struck than idly sit To hear my nothings monstered.
[Exit.]
MENENIUS. Masters of the people, Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter— That’s thousand to one good one—when you now see He had rather venture all his limbs for honour Than one on’s ears to hear it?—Proceed, Cominius.
COMINIUS. I shall lack voice. The deeds of Coriolanus Should not be uttered feebly. It is held That valour is the chiefest virtue and Most dignifies the haver; if it be, The man I speak of cannot in the world Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought Beyond the mark of others. Our then dictator, Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight When with his Amazonian chin he drove The bristled lips before him. He bestrid An o’erpressed Roman and i’ th’ Consul’s view Slew three opposers. Tarquin’s self he met And struck him on his knee. In that day’s feats, When he might act the woman in the scene, He proved best man i’ th’ field and for his meed Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age Man-entered thus, he waxed like a sea, And in the brunt of seventeen battles since He lurched all swords of the garland. For this last, Before and in Corioles, let me say, I cannot speak him home. He stopped the flyers And by his rare example made the coward Turn terror into sport. As weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obeyed And fell below his stem. His sword, Death’s stamp, Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot He was a thing of blood, whose every motion Was timed with dying cries. Alone he entered The mortal gate o’ th’ city, which he painted With shunless destiny; aidless came off And with a sudden reinforcement struck Corioles like a planet. Now all’s his, When by and by the din of war gan pierce His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit Requickened what in flesh was fatigate, And to the battle came he, where he did Run reeking o’er the lives of men as if ’Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we called Both field and city ours, he never stood To ease his breast with panting.
MENENIUS. Worthy man!
FIRST SENATOR. He cannot but with measure fit the honours Which we devise him.
COMINIUS. Our spoils he kicked at; And looked upon things precious as they were The common muck of the world. He covets less Than misery itself would give, rewards His deeds with doing them, and is content To spend the time to end it.
MENENIUS. He’s right noble. Let him be called for.
FIRST SENATOR. Call Coriolanus.
OFFICER. He doth appear.
Enter Coriolanus.
MENENIUS. The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased To make thee consul.
CORIOLANUS. I do owe them still My life and services.
MENENIUS. It then remains That you do speak to the people.
CORIOLANUS. I do beseech you Let me o’erleap that custom, for I cannot Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them For my wounds’ sake to give their suffrage. Please you That I may pass this doing.
SICINIUS. Sir, the people Must have their voices; neither will they bate One jot of ceremony.
MENENIUS. Put them not to’t. Pray you, go fit you to the custom, and Take to you, as your predecessors have, Your honour with your form.
CORIOLANUS. It is a part That I shall blush in acting, and might well Be taken from the people.
BRUTUS. Mark you that?
CORIOLANUS. To brag unto them, “thus I did, and thus!” Show them th’ unaching scars which I should hide, As if I had received them for the hire Of their breath only!
MENENIUS. Do not stand upon’t.— We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, Our purpose to them, and to our noble consul Wish we all joy and honour.
SENATORS. To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!
[Flourish cornets. Exeunt all but Sicinius and Brutus.]
BRUTUS. You see how he intends to use the people.
SICINIUS. May they perceive’s intent! He will require them As if he did contemn what he requested Should be in them to give.
BRUTUS. Come, we’ll inform them Of our proceedings here. On th’ marketplace I know they do attend us.
[Exeunt.]
Act II, Scene III — Rome. The Forum
Enter seven or eight Citizens.
FIRST CITIZEN. Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.
SECOND CITIZEN. We may, sir, if we will.
THIRD CITIZEN. We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a power that we have no power to do; for, if he show us his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our tongues into those wounds and speak for them. So, if he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude, of the which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
FIRST CITIZEN. And to make us no better thought of, a little help will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude.
THIRD CITIZEN. We have been called so of many; not that our heads are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, but that our wits are so diversely coloured; and truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, and their consent of one direct way should be at once to all the points o’ th’ compass.
SECOND CITIZEN. Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would fly?
THIRD CITIZEN. Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man’s will; ’tis strongly wedged up in a blockhead. But if it were at liberty, ’twould, sure, southward.
SECOND CITIZEN. Why that way?
THIRD CITIZEN. To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return for conscience’ sake, to help to get thee a wife.
SECOND CITIZEN. You are never without your tricks. You may, you may.
THIRD CITIZEN. Are you all resolved to give your voices? But that’s no matter; the greater part carries it. I say, if he would incline to the people, there was never a worthier man.
Enter Coriolanus in a gown of humility, with Menenius.
Here he comes, and in the gown of humility. Mark his behaviour. We are not to stay all together, but to come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and by threes. He’s to make his requests by particulars, wherein everyone of us has a single honour in giving him our own voices with our own tongues. Therefore follow me, and I’ll direct you how you shall go by him.
ALL. Content, content.
[Exeunt.]
MENENIUS. O sir, you are not right. Have you not known The worthiest men have done’t?
CORIOLANUS. What must I say? “I pray, sir”—plague upon’t! I cannot bring My tongue to such a pace. “Look, sir, my wounds! I got them in my country’s service when Some certain of your brethren roared and ran From th’ noise of our own drums.”
MENENIUS. O me, the gods! You must not speak of that. You must desire them To think upon you.
CORIOLANUS. Think upon me! Hang ’em! I would they would forget me, like the virtues Which our divines lose by ’em.
MENENIUS. You’ll mar all. I’ll leave you. Pray you speak to ’em, I pray you, In wholesome manner.
[Exit Menenius.]
CORIOLANUS. Bid them wash their faces And keep their teeth clean.
Enter three of the Citizens.
So, here comes a brace. You know the cause, sirs, of my standing here.
THIRD CITIZEN. We do, sir. Tell us what hath brought you to’t.
CORIOLANUS. Mine own desert.
SECOND CITIZEN. Your own desert?
CORIOLANUS. Ay, but not mine own desire.
THIRD CITIZEN. How, not your own desire?
CORIOLANUS. No, sir, ’twas never my desire yet to trouble the poor with begging.
THIRD CITIZEN. You must think if we give you anything, we hope to gain by you.
CORIOLANUS. Well then, I pray, your price o’ th’ consulship?
FIRST CITIZEN. The price is to ask it kindly.
CORIOLANUS. Kindly, sir, I pray, let me ha’t. I have wounds to show you, which shall be yours in private.—Your good voice, sir. What say you?
SECOND CITIZEN. You shall ha’ it, worthy sir.
CORIOLANUS. A match, sir. There’s in all two worthy voices begged. I have your alms. Adieu.
THIRD CITIZEN. But this is something odd.
SECOND CITIZEN. An ’twere to give again—but ’tis no matter.
[Exeunt two citizens.]
Enter two other Citizens.
CORIOLANUS. Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your voices that I may be consul, I have here the customary gown.
FOURTH CITIZEN. You have deserved nobly of your country, and you have not deserved nobly.
CORIOLANUS. Your enigma?
FOURTH CITIZEN. You have been a scourge to her enemies; you have been a rod to her friends. You have not indeed loved the common people.
CORIOLANUS. You should account me the more virtuous that I have not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer estimation of them; ’tis a condition they account gentle. And since the wisdom of their choice is rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod and be off to them most counterfeitly. That is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment of some popular man and give it bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, I may be consul.
FIFTH CITIZEN. We hope to find you our friend, and therefore give you our voices heartily.
FOURTH CITIZEN. You have received many wounds for your country.
CORIOLANUS. I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I will make much of your voices and so trouble you no farther.
BOTH CITIZENS. The gods give you joy, sir, heartily.
[Exeunt citizens.]
CORIOLANUS. Most sweet voices! Better it is to die, better to starve, Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. Why in this wolvish toge should I stand here To beg of Hob and Dick that does appear Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to’t. What custom wills, in all things should we do’t? The dust on antique time would lie unswept And mountainous error be too highly heaped For truth to o’erpeer. Rather than fool it so, Let the high office and the honour go To one that would do thus. I am half through; The one part suffered, the other will I do.
Enter three Citizens more.
Here come more voices. Your voices! For your voices I have fought; Watched for your voices; for your voices bear Of wounds two dozen odd. Battles thrice six I have seen and heard of; for your voices have Done many things, some less, some more. Your voices! Indeed, I would be consul.
SIXTH CITIZEN. He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest man’s voice.
SEVENTH CITIZEN. Therefore let him be consul. The gods give him joy, and make him good friend to the people!
ALL THREE CITIZENS. Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul.
[Exeunt citizens.]
CORIOLANUS. Worthy voices!
Enter Menenius with Brutus and Sicinius.
MENENIUS. You have stood your limitation, and the Tribunes Endue you with the people’s voice. Remains That in th’ official marks invested, you Anon do meet the Senate.
CORIOLANUS. Is this done?
SICINIUS. The custom of request you have discharged. The people do admit you, and are summoned To meet anon upon your approbation.
CORIOLANUS. Where? At the Senate House?
SICINIUS. There, Coriolanus.
CORIOLANUS. May I change these garments?
SICINIUS. You may, sir.
CORIOLANUS. That I’ll straight do and, knowing myself again, Repair to th’ Senate House.
MENENIUS. I’ll keep you company.—Will you along?
BRUTUS. We stay here for the people.
SICINIUS. Fare you well.
[Exeunt Coriolanus and Menenius.]
He has it now; and by his looks, methinks, ’Tis warm at his heart.
BRUTUS. With a proud heart he wore His humble weeds. Will you dismiss the people?
Enter the Pebleians.
SICINIUS. How now, my masters, have you chose this man?
FIRST CITIZEN. He has our voices, sir.
BRUTUS. We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.
SECOND CITIZEN. Amen, sir. To my poor unworthy notice, He mocked us when he begged our voices.
THIRD CITIZEN. Certainly, he flouted us downright.
FIRST CITIZEN. No, ’tis his kind of speech. He did not mock us.
SECOND CITIZEN. Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says He used us scornfully. He should have showed us His marks of merit, wounds received for’s country.
SICINIUS. Why, so he did, I am sure.
ALL. No, no. No man saw ’em.
THIRD CITIZEN. He said he had wounds, which he could show in private, And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, “I would be consul,” says he; “aged custom, But by your voices, will not so permit me; Your voices therefore.” When we granted that, Here was “I thank you for your voices. Thank you. Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your voices, I have no further with you.” Was not this mockery?
SICINIUS. Why either were you ignorant to see’t Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness To yield your voices?
BRUTUS. Could you not have told him As you were lessoned? When he had no power, But was a petty servant to the state, He was your enemy, ever spake against Your liberties and the charters that you bear I’ th’ body of the weal; and, now arriving A place of potency and sway o’ th’ state, If he should still malignantly remain Fast foe to th’ plebeii, your voices might Be curses to yourselves. You should have said That as his worthy deeds did claim no less Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature Would think upon you for your voices, and Translate his malice towards you into love, Standing your friendly lord.
SICINIUS. Thus to have said, As you were fore-advised, had touched his spirit And tried his inclination; from him plucked Either his gracious promise, which you might, As cause had called you up, have held him to; Or else it would have galled his surly nature, Which easily endures not article Tying him to aught. So putting him to rage, You should have ta’en th’ advantage of his choler And passed him unelected.
BRUTUS. Did you perceive He did solicit you in free contempt When he did need your loves, and do you think That his contempt shall not be bruising to you When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies No heart among you? Or had you tongues to cry Against the rectorship of judgment?
SICINIUS. Have you ere now denied the asker, and now Again, of him that did not ask but mock, Bestow your sued-for tongues?
THIRD CITIZEN. He’s not confirmed. We may deny him yet.
SECOND CITIZEN. And will deny him. I’ll have five hundred voices of that sound.
FIRST CITIZEN. I twice five hundred, and their friends to piece ’em.
BRUTUS. Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends They have chose a consul that will from them take Their liberties, make them of no more voice Than dogs that are as often beat for barking As therefore kept to do so.
SICINIUS. Let them assemble And, on a safer judgment, all revoke Your ignorant election. Enforce his pride And his old hate unto you. Besides, forget not With what contempt he wore the humble weed, How in his suit he scorned you; but your loves, Thinking upon his services, took from you Th’ apprehension of his present portance, Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion After the inveterate hate he bears you.
BRUTUS. Lay A fault on us, your tribunes, that we laboured, No impediment between, but that you must Cast your election on him.
SICINIUS. Say you chose him More after our commandment than as guided By your own true affections, and that your minds, Preoccupied with what you rather must do Than what you should, made you against the grain To voice him consul. Lay the fault on us.
BRUTUS. Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you, How youngly he began to serve his country, How long continued, and what stock he springs of, The noble house o’ th’ Martians, from whence came That Ancus Martius, Numa’s daughter’s son, Who, after great Hostilius here was king, Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, That our best water brought by conduits hither; And Censorinus, that was so surnamed, And nobly named so, twice being censor, Was his great ancestor.
SICINIUS. One thus descended, That hath beside well in his person wrought To be set high in place, we did commend To your remembrances; but you have found, Scaling his present bearing with his past, That he’s your fixed enemy, and revoke Your sudden approbation.
BRUTUS. Say you ne’er had done’t— Harp on that still—but by our putting on. And presently when you have drawn your number, Repair to th’ Capitol.
ALL. We will so. Almost all Repent in their election.
[Exeunt Plebeians.]
BRUTUS. Let them go on. This mutiny were better put in hazard Than stay, past doubt, for greater. If, as his nature is, he fall in rage With their refusal, both observe and answer The vantage of his anger.
SICINIUS. To th’ Capitol, come. We will be there before the stream o’ th’ people, And this shall seem, as partly ’tis, their own, Which we have goaded onward.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene I — Rome. A street
Cornets. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, all the Gentry, Cominius, Titus Lartius and other Senators.
CORIOLANUS. Tullus Aufidius then had made new head?
LARTIUS. He had, my lord, and that it was which caused Our swifter composition.
CORIOLANUS. So then the Volsces stand but as at first, Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road Upon’s again.
COMINIUS. They are worn, lord consul, so That we shall hardly in our ages see Their banners wave again.
CORIOLANUS. Saw you Aufidius?
LARTIUS. On safeguard he came to me, and did curse Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely Yielded the town. He is retired to Antium.
CORIOLANUS. Spoke he of me?
LARTIUS. He did, my lord.
CORIOLANUS. How? What?
LARTIUS. How often he had met you sword to sword; That of all things upon the earth he hated Your person most; that he would pawn his fortunes To hopeless restitution, so he might Be called your vanquisher.
CORIOLANUS. At Antium lives he?
LARTIUS. At Antium.
CORIOLANUS. I wish I had a cause to seek him there, To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.
Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, The tongues o’ th’ common mouth. I do despise them, For they do prank them in authority Against all noble sufferance.
SICINIUS. Pass no further.
CORIOLANUS. Ha? What is that?
BRUTUS. It will be dangerous to go on. No further.
CORIOLANUS. What makes this change?
MENENIUS. The matter?
COMINIUS. Hath he not passed the noble and the common?
BRUTUS. Cominius, no.
CORIOLANUS. Have I had children’s voices?
FIRST SENATOR. Tribunes, give way. He shall to the marketplace.
BRUTUS. The people are incensed against him.
SICINIUS. Stop, Or all will fall in broil.
CORIOLANUS. Are these your herd? Must these have voices, that can yield them now And straight disclaim their tongues? What are your offices? You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? Have you not set them on?
MENENIUS. Be calm, be calm.
CORIOLANUS. It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, To curb the will of the nobility. Suffer’t, and live with such as cannot rule Nor ever will be ruled.
BRUTUS. Call’t not a plot. The people cry you mocked them; and, of late, When corn was given them gratis, you repined, Scandaled the suppliants for the people, called them Timepleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.
CORIOLANUS. Why, this was known before.
BRUTUS. Not to them all.
CORIOLANUS. Have you informed them sithence?
BRUTUS. How? I inform them?
COMINIUS. You are like to do such business.
BRUTUS. Not unlike, each way, to better yours.
CORIOLANUS. Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me Your fellow tribune.
SICINIUS. You show too much of that For which the people stir. If you will pass To where you are bound, you must inquire your way, Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, Or never be so noble as a consul, Nor yoke with him for tribune.
MENENIUS. Let’s be calm.
COMINIUS. The people are abused, set on. This palt’ring Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus Deserved this so dishonoured rub, laid falsely I’ th’ plain way of his merit.
CORIOLANUS. Tell me of corn? This was my speech, and I will speak’t again.
MENENIUS. Not now, not now.
FIRST SENATOR. Not in this heat, sir, now.
CORIOLANUS. Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, I crave their pardons. For The mutable, rank-scented many, let them Regard me, as I do not flatter, and Therein behold themselves. I say again, In soothing them we nourish ’gainst our senate The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, Which we ourselves have ploughed for, sowed, and scattered By mingling them with us, the honoured number, Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that Which they have given to beggars.
MENENIUS. Well, no more.
FIRST SENATOR. No more words, we beseech you.
CORIOLANUS. How? No more? As for my country I have shed my blood, Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs Coin words till their decay against those measles Which we disdain should tetter us, yet sought The very way to catch them.
BRUTUS. You speak o’ th’ people As if you were a god to punish, not A man of their infirmity.
SICINIUS. ’Twere well We let the people know’t.
MENENIUS. What, what? His choler?
CORIOLANUS. Choler? Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, By Jove, ’twould be my mind.
SICINIUS. It is a mind That shall remain a poison where it is, Not poison any further.
CORIOLANUS. “Shall remain”? Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute “shall”?
COMINIUS. ’Twas from the canon.
CORIOLANUS. “Shall”? O good but most unwise patricians, why, You grave but reckless senators, have you thus Given Hydra leave to choose an officer, That with his peremptory “shall,” being but The horn and noise o’ th’ monster’s, wants not spirit To say he’ll turn your current in a ditch And make your channel his? If he have power, Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake Your dangerous lenity. If you are learned, Be not as common fools; if you are not, Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, If they be senators; and they are no less When, both your voices blended, the great’st taste Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, And such a one as he, who puts his “shall,” His popular “shall,” against a graver bench Than ever frowned in Greece. By Jove himself, It makes the consuls base! And my soul aches To know, when two authorities are up, Neither supreme, how soon confusion May enter ’twixt the gap of both and take The one by th’ other.
COMINIUS. Well, on to th’ marketplace.
CORIOLANUS. Whoever gave that counsel to give forth The corn o’ th’ storehouse gratis, as ’twas used Sometime in Greece—
MENENIUS. Well, well, no more of that.
CORIOLANUS. Though there the people had more absolute power, I say they nourished disobedience, fed The ruin of the state.
BRUTUS. Why shall the people give One that speaks thus their voice?
CORIOLANUS. I’ll give my reasons, More worthier than their voices. They know the corn Was not our recompense, resting well assured They ne’er did service for’t. Being pressed to th’ war, Even when the navel of the state was touched, They would not thread the gates. This kind of service Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i’ th’ war, Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they showed Most valour, spoke not for them. Th’ accusation Which they have often made against the Senate, All cause unborn, could never be the native Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? How shall this bosom multitude digest The senate’s courtesy? Let deeds express What’s like to be their words: “We did request it; We are the greater poll, and in true fear They gave us our demands.” Thus we debase The nature of our seats and make the rabble Call our cares fears, which will in time Break ope the locks o’ th’ Senate and bring in The crows to peck the eagles.
MENENIUS. Come, enough.
BRUTUS. Enough, with over-measure.
CORIOLANUS. No, take more! What may be sworn by, both divine and human, Seal what I end withal! This double worship— Where one part does disdain with cause, the other Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom Cannot conclude but by the yea and no Of general ignorance—it must omit Real necessities and give way the while To unstable slightness. Purpose so barred, it follows Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you— You that will be less fearful than discreet, That love the fundamental part of state More than you doubt the change on’t, that prefer A noble life before a long, and wish To jump a body with a dangerous physic That’s sure of death without it—at once pluck out The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonour Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state Of that integrity which should become’t, Not having the power to do the good it would For th’ ill which doth control’t.
BRUTUS. ’Has said enough.
SICINIUS. ’Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer As traitors do.
CORIOLANUS. Thou wretch, despite o’erwhelm thee! What should the people do with these bald tribunes, On whom depending, their obedience fails To th’ greater bench. In a rebellion, When what’s not meet but what must be was law, Then were they chosen. In a better hour, Let what is meet be said it must be meet, And throw their power i’ th’ dust.
BRUTUS. Manifest treason.
SICINIUS. This a consul? No.
BRUTUS. The aediles, ho! Let him be apprehended.
Enter an Aedile.
SICINIUS. Go call the people;
[Exit Aedile.]
in whose name myself Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, A foe to th’ public weal. Obey, I charge thee, And follow to thine answer.
CORIOLANUS. Hence, old goat.
ALL PATRICIANS. We’ll surety him.
COMINIUS. [to Sicinius.] Aged sir, hands off.
CORIOLANUS. [to Sicinius.] Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones Out of thy garments.
SICINIUS. Help, ye citizens!
Enter a rabble of Plebeians with the Aediles.
MENENIUS. On both sides more respect!
SICINIUS. Here’s he that would take from you all your power.
BRUTUS. Seize him, aediles.
ALL PLEBEIANS. Down with him, down with him!
SECOND SENATOR. Weapons, weapons, weapons!
[They all bustle about Coriolanus.]
Tribunes, patricians, citizens, what, ho! Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, citizens!
ALL. Peace, peace, peace! Stay, hold, peace!
MENENIUS. What is about to be? I am out of breath. Confusion’s near. I cannot speak. You tribunes To th’ people!—Coriolanus, patience!— Speak, good Sicinius.
SICINIUS. Hear me, people! Peace!
ALL PLEBEIANS. Let’s hear our tribune. Peace! Speak, speak, speak.
SICINIUS. You are at point to lose your liberties. Martius would have all from you, Martius, Whom late you have named for consul.
MENENIUS. Fie, fie, fie! This is the way to kindle, not to quench.
FIRST SENATOR. To unbuild the city and to lay all flat.
SICINIUS. What is the city but the people?
ALL PLEBEIANS. True, The people are the city.
BRUTUS. By the consent of all, we were established The people’s magistrates.
ALL PLEBEIANS. You so remain.
MENENIUS. And so are like to do.
COMINIUS. That is the way to lay the city flat, To bring the roof to the foundation And bury all which yet distinctly ranges In heaps and piles of ruin.
SICINIUS. This deserves death.
BRUTUS. Or let us stand to our authority Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, Upon the part o’ th’ people, in whose power We were elected theirs, Martius is worthy Of present death.
SICINIUS. Therefore lay hold of him, Bear him to th’ rock Tarpeian, and from thence Into destruction cast him.
BRUTUS. Aediles, seize him!
ALL PLEBEIANS. Yield, Martius, yield!
MENENIUS. Hear me one word. Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.
AEDILES. Peace, peace!
MENENIUS. Be that you seem, truly your country’s friend, And temp’rately proceed to what you would Thus violently redress.
BRUTUS. Sir, those cold ways, That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous Where the disease is violent.—Lay hands upon him, And bear him to the rock.
[Coriolanus draws his sword.]
CORIOLANUS. No; I’ll die here. There’s some among you have beheld me fighting. Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.
MENENIUS. Down with that sword!—Tribunes, withdraw awhile.
BRUTUS. Lay hands upon him!
MENENIUS. Help Martius, help! You that be noble, help him, young and old!
ALL PLEBEIANS. Down with him, down with him!
[In this mutiny the Tribunes, the Aediles and the People are beat in.]
MENENIUS. Go, get you to your house. Begone, away. All will be naught else.
SECOND SENATOR. Get you gone.
CORIOLANUS. Stand fast! We have as many friends as enemies.
MENENIUS. Shall it be put to that?
FIRST SENATOR. The gods forbid! I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; Leave us to cure this cause.
MENENIUS. For ’tis a sore upon us You cannot tent yourself. Begone, beseech you.
COMINIUS. Come, sir, along with us.
CORIOLANUS. I would they were barbarians, as they are, Though in Rome littered, not Romans, as they are not, Though calved i’ th’ porch o’ th’ Capitol.
MENENIUS. Begone! Put not your worthy rage into your tongue. One time will owe another.
CORIOLANUS. On fair ground I could beat forty of them.
MENENIUS. I could myself Take up a brace o’ th’ best of them, yea, the two tribunes.
COMINIUS. But now ’tis odds beyond arithmetic, And manhood is called foolery when it stands Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, Before the tag return, whose rage doth rend Like interrupted waters, and o’erbear What they are used to bear?
MENENIUS. Pray you, begone. I’ll try whether my old wit be in request With those that have but little. This must be patched With cloth of any colour.
COMINIUS. Nay, come away.
[Exeunt Coriolanus and Cominius.]
PATRICIAN. This man has marred his fortune.
MENENIUS. His nature is too noble for the world. He would not flatter Neptune for his trident Or Jove for’s power to thunder. His heart’s his mouth; What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent, And, being angry, does forget that ever He heard the name of death.
[A noise within.]
Here’s goodly work.
PATRICIAN. I would they were abed!
MENENIUS. I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance, Could he not speak ’em fair?
Enter Brutus and Sicinius with the rabble again.
SICINIUS. Where is this viper That would depopulate the city and Be every man himself?
MENENIUS. You worthy tribunes—
SICINIUS. He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock With rigorous hands. He hath resisted law, And therefore law shall scorn him further trial Than the severity of the public power Which he so sets at naught.
FIRST CITIZEN. He shall well know The noble tribunes are the people’s mouths, And we their hands.
ALL PLEBEIANS. He shall, sure on’t.
MENENIUS. Sir, sir—
SICINIUS. Peace!
MENENIUS. Do not cry havoc where you should but hunt With modest warrant.
SICINIUS. Sir, how comes’t that you Have holp to make this rescue?
MENENIUS. Hear me speak. As I do know the Consul’s worthiness, So can I name his faults.
SICINIUS. Consul? What consul?
MENENIUS. The consul Coriolanus.
BRUTUS. He consul?
ALL PLEBEIANS. No, no, no, no, no!
MENENIUS. If, by the Tribunes’ leave, and yours, good people, I may be heard, I would crave a word or two, The which shall turn you to no further harm Than so much loss of time.
SICINIUS. Speak briefly then, For we are peremptory to dispatch This viperous traitor. To eject him hence Were but one danger, and to keep him here Our certain death. Therefore it is decreed He dies tonight.
MENENIUS. Now the good gods forbid That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude Towards her deserved children is enrolled In Jove’s own book, like an unnatural dam Should now eat up her own.
SICINIUS. He’s a disease that must be cut away.
MENENIUS. O, he’s a limb that has but a disease— Mortal to cut it off; to cure it easy. What has he done to Rome that’s worthy death? Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost— Which I dare vouch is more than that he hath By many an ounce—he dropt it for his country; And what is left, to lose it by his country Were to us all, that do’t and suffer it A brand to th’ end o’ th’ world.
SICINIUS. This is clean cam.
BRUTUS. Merely awry. When he did love his country, It honoured him.
MENENIUS. The service of the foot, Being once gangrened, is not then respected For what before it was.
BRUTUS. We’ll hear no more. Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence, Lest his infection, being of catching nature, Spread further.
MENENIUS. One word more, one word! This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find The harm of unscanned swiftness, will too late, Tie leaden pounds to’s heels. Proceed by process, Lest parties—as he is beloved—break out And sack great Rome with Romans.
BRUTUS. If it were so—
SICINIUS. What do ye talk? Have we not had a taste of his obedience? Our aediles smote! Ourselves resisted? Come.
MENENIUS. Consider this: he has been bred i’ th’ wars Since he could draw a sword, and is ill schooled In bolted language; meal and bran together He throws without distinction. Give me leave, I’ll go to him and undertake to bring him Where he shall answer by a lawful form, In peace, to his utmost peril.
FIRST SENATOR. Noble tribunes, It is the humane way: the other course Will prove too bloody, and the end of it Unknown to the beginning.
SICINIUS. Noble Menenius, Be you then as the people’s officer.— Masters, lay down your weapons.
BRUTUS. Go not home.
SICINIUS. Meet on the marketplace. We’ll attend you there, Where if you bring not Martius, we’ll proceed In our first way.
MENENIUS. I’ll bring him to you. [To Senators.] Let me desire your company. He must come, Or what is worst will follow.
FIRST SENATOR. Pray you, let’s to him.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene II — Rome. A room in Coriolanus’s house
Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.
CORIOLANUS. Let them pull all about mine ears, present me Death on the wheel or at wild horses’ heels, Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, That the precipitation might down stretch Below the beam of sight, yet will I still Be thus to them.
FIRST PATRICIAN. You do the nobler.
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.
Enter Volumnia.
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.
VOLUMNIA. O, sir, sir, sir, I would have had you put your power well on Before you had worn it out.
CORIOLANUS. Let go.
VOLUMNIA. You might have been enough the man you are With striving less to be so. Lesser had been The thwartings of your dispositions if You had not showed them how ye were disposed Ere they lacked power to cross you.
CORIOLANUS. Let them hang!
VOLUMNIA. Ay, and burn too.
Enter Menenius with the Senators.
MENENIUS. Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough. You must return and mend it.
FIRST SENATOR. There’s no remedy, Unless, by not so doing, our good city Cleave in the midst and perish.
VOLUMNIA. Pray be counselled. I have a heart as little apt as yours, But yet a brain that leads my use of anger To better vantage.
MENENIUS. Well said, noble woman. Before he should thus stoop to th’ herd—but that The violent fit o’ th’ time craves it as physic For the whole state—I would put mine armour on, Which I can scarcely bear.
CORIOLANUS. What must I do?
MENENIUS. Return to th’ Tribunes.
CORIOLANUS. Well, what then? What then?
MENENIUS. Repent what you have spoke.
CORIOLANUS. For them? I cannot do it to the gods. Must I then do’t to them?
VOLUMNIA. You are too absolute, Though therein you can never be too noble But when extremities speak. I have heard you say Honour and policy, like unsevered friends, I’ th’ war do grow together. Grant that, and tell me In peace what each of them by th’ other lose That they combine not there.
CORIOLANUS. Tush, tush!
MENENIUS. A good demand.
VOLUMNIA. If it be honour in your wars to seem The same you are not, which for your best ends You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse That it shall hold companionship in peace With honour as in war, since that to both It stands in like request?
CORIOLANUS. Why force you this?
VOLUMNIA. Because that now it lies you on to speak To th’ people, not by your own instruction, Nor by th’ matter which your heart prompts you, But with such words that are but rooted in Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables Of no allowance to your bosom’s truth. Now, this no more dishonours you at all Than to take in a town with gentle words, Which else would put you to your fortune and The hazard of much blood. I would dissemble with my nature where My fortunes and my friends at stake required I should do so in honour. I am in this Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; And you will rather show our general louts How you can frown than spend a fawn upon ’em For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard Of what that want might ruin.
MENENIUS. Noble lady!— Come, go with us; speak fair. You may salve so, Not what is dangerous present, but the loss Of what is past.
VOLUMNIA. I prithee now, my son, Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand, And thus far having stretched it—here be with them— Thy knee bussing the stones—for in such busines Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant More learned than the ears—waving thy head, Which often thus correcting thy stout heart, Now humble as the ripest mulberry That will not hold the handling. Or say to them Thou art their soldier and, being bred in broils, Hast not the soft way, which thou dost confess Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim, In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far As thou hast power and person.
MENENIUS. This but done Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; For they have pardons, being asked, as free As words to little purpose.
VOLUMNIA. Prithee now, Go, and be ruled; although I know thou hadst rather Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf Than flatter him in a bower.
Enter Cominius.
Here is Cominius.
COMINIUS. I have been i’ th’ marketplace; and, sir, ’tis fit You make strong party or defend yourself By calmness or by absence. All’s in anger.
MENENIUS. Only fair speech.
COMINIUS. I think ’twill serve, if he Can thereto frame his spirit.
VOLUMNIA. He must, and will.— Prithee, now, say you will, and go about it.
CORIOLANUS. Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? Must I With my base tongue give to my noble heart A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do’t. Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, This mould of Martius, they to dust should grind it And throw’t against the wind. To th’ marketplace! You have put me now to such a part which never I shall discharge to th’ life.
COMINIUS. Come, come, we’ll prompt you.
VOLUMNIA. I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said My praises made thee first a soldier, so, To have my praise for this, perform a part Thou hast not done before.
CORIOLANUS. Well, I must do’t. Away, my disposition, and possess me Some harlot’s spirit! My throat of war be turned, Which choired with my drum, into a pipe Small as an eunuch or the virgin voice That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys’ tears take up The glasses of my sight! A beggar’s tongue Make motion through my lips, and my armed knees, Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his That hath received an alms! I will not do’t, Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth And, by my body’s action, teach my mind A most inherent baseness.
VOLUMNIA. At thy choice, then. To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour Than thou of them. Come all to ruin. Let Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list. Thy valiantness was mine; thou suck’dst it from me, But owe thy pride thyself.
CORIOLANUS. Pray, be content. Mother, I am going to the marketplace. Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves, Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going. Commend me to my wife. I’ll return consul, Or never trust to what my tongue can do I’ th’ way of flattery further.
VOLUMNIA. Do your will.
[Exit Volumnia.]
COMINIUS. Away! The Tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself To answer mildly, for they are prepared With accusations, as I hear, more strong Than are upon you yet.
CORIOLANUS. The word is “mildly.” Pray you, let us go. Let them accuse me by invention, I Will answer in mine honour.
MENENIUS. Ay, but mildly.
CORIOLANUS. Well, mildly be it, then. Mildly.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene III — Rome. The Forum
Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
BRUTUS. In this point charge him home, that he affects Tyrannical power. If he evade us there, Enforce him with his envy to the people, And that the spoil got on the Antiates Was ne’er distributed.
Enter an Aedile.
What, will he come?
AEDILE. He’s coming.
BRUTUS. How accompanied?
AEDILE. With old Menenius, and those senators That always favoured him.
SICINIUS. Have you a catalogue Of all the voices that we have procured, Set down by th’ poll?
AEDILE. I have. ’Tis ready.
SICINIUS. Have you collected them by tribes?
AEDILE. I have.
SICINIUS. Assemble presently the people hither; And when they hear me say “It shall be so I’ th’ right and strength o’ th’ commons,” be it either For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them If I say “Fine,” cry “Fine,” if “Death,” cry “Death,” Insisting on the old prerogative And power i’ th’ truth o’ th’ cause.
AEDILE. I shall inform them.
BRUTUS. And when such time they have begun to cry, Let them not cease, but with a din confused Enforce the present execution Of what we chance to sentence.
AEDILE. Very well.
SICINIUS. Make them be strong and ready for this hint When we shall hap to give’t them.
BRUTUS. Go about it.
[Exit Aedile.]
Put him to choler straight. He hath been used Ever to conquer and to have his worth Of contradiction. Being once chafed, he cannot Be reined again to temperance; then he speaks What’s in his heart; and that is there which looks With us to break his neck.
Enter Coriolanus, Menenius and Cominius with other Senators.
SICINIUS. Well, here he comes.
MENENIUS. Calmly, I do beseech you.
CORIOLANUS. Ay, as an ostler, that for th’ poorest piece Will bear the knave by th’ volume.—Th’ honoured gods Keep Rome in safety and the chairs of justice Supplied with worthy men! Plant love among’s! Throng our large temples with the shows of peace And not our streets with war!
FIRST SENATOR. Amen, amen.
MENENIUS. A noble wish.
Enter the Aedile with the Plebeians.
SICINIUS. Draw near, ye people.
AEDILE. List to your tribunes. Audience! Peace, I say!
CORIOLANUS. First, hear me speak.
BOTH TRIBUNES. Well, say.—Peace, ho!
CORIOLANUS. Shall I be charged no further than this present? Must all determine here?
SICINIUS. I do demand If you submit you to the people’s voices, Allow their officers, and are content To suffer lawful censure for such faults As shall be proved upon you.
CORIOLANUS. I am content.
MENENIUS. Lo, citizens, he says he is content. The warlike service he has done, consider. Think Upon the wounds his body bears, which show Like graves i’ th’ holy churchyard.
CORIOLANUS. Scratches with briars, Scars to move laughter only.
MENENIUS. Consider further, That when he speaks not like a citizen, You find him like a soldier. Do not take His rougher accents for malicious sounds, But, as I say, such as become a soldier Rather than envy you.
COMINIUS. Well, well, no more.
CORIOLANUS. What is the matter, That, being passed for consul with full voice, I am so dishonoured that the very hour You take it off again?
SICINIUS. Answer to us.
CORIOLANUS. Say then. ’Tis true, I ought so.
SICINIUS. We charge you that you have contrived to take From Rome all seasoned office and to wind Yourself into a power tyrannical, For which you are a traitor to the people.
CORIOLANUS. How? Traitor?
MENENIUS. Nay, temperately! Your promise.
CORIOLANUS. The fires i’ th’ lowest hell fold in the people! Call me their traitor? Thou injurious tribune! Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, In thy hands clutched as many millions, in Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say “Thou liest” unto thee with a voice as free As I do pray the gods.
SICINIUS. Mark you this, people?
ALL PLEBEIANS. To th’ rock, to th’ rock with him!
SICINIUS. Peace! We need not put new matter to his charge. What you have seen him do and heard him speak, Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying Those whose great power must try him—even this, So criminal and in such capital kind, Deserves th’ extremest death.
BRUTUS. But since he hath Served well for Rome—
CORIOLANUS. What do you prate of service?
BRUTUS. I talk of that that know it.
CORIOLANUS. You?
MENENIUS. Is this the promise that you made your mother?
COMINIUS. Know, I pray you—
CORIOLANUS. I’ll know no further. Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger But with a grain a day, I would not buy Their mercy at the price of one fair word, Nor check my courage for what they can give, To have’t with saying “Good morrow.”
SICINIUS. For that he has, As much as in him lies, from time to time Envied against the people, seeking means To pluck away their power, as now at last Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers That do distribute it, in the name o’ th’ people And in the power of us the Tribunes, we, Even from this instant, banish him our city In peril of precipitation From off the rock Tarpeian, never more To enter our Rome gates. I’ th’ people’s name, I say it shall be so.
ALL PLEBEIANS. It shall be so, it shall be so! Let him away! He’s banished, and it shall be so.
COMINIUS. Hear me, my masters and my common friends—
SICINIUS. He’s sentenced. No more hearing.
COMINIUS. Let me speak. I have been consul and can show for Rome Her enemies’ marks upon me. I do love My country’s good with a respect more tender, More holy and profound, than mine own life, My dear wife’s estimate, her womb’s increase, And treasure of my loins. Then if I would Speak that—
SICINIUS. We know your drift. Speak what?
BRUTUS. There’s no more to be said, but he is banished As enemy to the people and his country. It shall be so.
ALL PLEBEIANS. It shall be so, it shall be so!
CORIOLANUS. You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate As reek o’ th’ rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air, I banish you! And here remain with your uncertainty; Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts; Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, Fan you into despair! Have the power still To banish your defenders, till at length Your ignorance—which finds not till it feels, Making but reservation of yourselves, Still your own foes—deliver you, As most abated captives to some nation That won you without blows! Despising For you the city, thus I turn my back. There is a world elsewhere.
[Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, with other Senators.]
AEDILE. The people’s enemy is gone, is gone.
ALL PLEBEIANS. Our enemy is banished; he is gone. Hoo, hoo!
[They all shout and throw up their caps.]
SICINIUS. Go see him out at gates, and follow him, As he hath followed you, with all despite. Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard Attend us through the city.
ALL PLEBEIANS. Come, come, let’s see him out at gates! Come! The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.
[Exeunt.]
Act IV, Scene I — Rome. Before a gate of the city
Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius with the young nobility of Rome.
CORIOLANUS. Come, leave your tears. A brief farewell. The beast With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, Where is your ancient courage? You were used To say extremities was the trier of spirits; That common chances common men could bear; That when the sea was calm, all boats alike Showed mastership in floating; fortune’s blows When most struck home, being gentle wounded craves A noble cunning. You were used to load me With precepts that would make invincible The heart that conned them.
VIRGILIA. O heavens! O heavens!
CORIOLANUS. Nay, I prithee, woman—
VOLUMNIA. Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, And occupations perish!
CORIOLANUS. What, what, what! I shall be loved when I am lacked. Nay, mother, Resume that spirit when you were wont to say If you had been the wife of Hercules, Six of his labours you’d have done and saved Your husband so much sweat.—Cominius, Droop not. Adieu.—Farewell, my wife, my mother. I’ll do well yet.—Thou old and true Menenius, Thy tears are salter than a younger man’s And venomous to thine eyes.—My sometime general, I have seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld Heart-hard’ning spectacles. Tell these sad women ’Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes As ’tis to laugh at ’em.—My mother, you wot well My hazards still have been your solace, and— Believe’t not lightly—though I go alone, Like to a lonely dragon that his fen Makes feared and talked of more than seen, your son Will or exceed the common or be caught With cautelous baits and practice.
VOLUMNIA. My first son, Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius With thee awhile. Determine on some course More than a wild exposture to each chance That starts i’ th’ way before thee.
VIRGILIA. O the gods!
COMINIUS. I’ll follow thee a month, devise with thee Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us And we of thee; so if the time thrust forth A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send O’er the vast world to seek a single man And lose advantage, which doth ever cool I’ th’ absence of the needer.
CORIOLANUS. Fare ye well. Thou hast years upon thee, and thou art too full Of the wars’ surfeits to go rove with one That’s yet unbruised. Bring me but out at gate.— Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and My friends of noble touch. When I am forth, Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. While I remain above the ground, you shall Hear from me still, and never of me aught But what is like me formerly.
MENENIUS. That’s worthily As any ear can hear. Come, let’s not weep. If I could shake off but one seven years From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, I’d with thee every foot.
CORIOLANUS. Give me thy hand. Come.
[Exeunt.]
Act IV, Scene II — Rome. A street near the gate
Enter two Tribunes, Sicinius, Brutus with the Aedile.
SICINIUS. Bid them all home. He’s gone, and we’ll no further. The nobility are vexed, whom we see have sided In his behalf.
BRUTUS. Now we have shown our power, Let us seem humbler after it is done Than when it was a-doing.
SICINIUS. Bid them home. Say their great enemy is gone, and they Stand in their ancient strength.
BRUTUS. Dismiss them home.
[Exit Aedile.]
Here comes his mother.
Enter Volumnia, Virgilia and Menenius.
SICINIUS. Let’s not meet her.
BRUTUS. Why?
SICINIUS. They say she’s mad.
BRUTUS. They have ta’en note of us. Keep on your way.
VOLUMNIA. O, you’re well met. The hoarded plague o’ th’ gods Requite your love!
MENENIUS. Peace, peace! Be not so loud.
VOLUMNIA. If that I could for weeping, you should hear— Nay, and you shall hear some. [To Sicinius.] Will you be gone?
VIRGILIA. [To Brutus.] You shall stay too. I would I had the power To say so to my husband.
SICINIUS. Are you mankind?
VOLUMNIA. Ay, fool, is that a shame? Note but this, fool. Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship To banish him that struck more blows for Rome Than thou hast spoken words?
SICINIUS. O blessed heavens!
VOLUMNIA. More noble blows than ever thou wise words, And for Rome’s good. I’ll tell thee what—yet go. Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son Were in Arabia and thy tribe before him, His good sword in his hand.
SICINIUS. What then?
VIRGILIA. What then? He’d make an end of thy posterity.
VOLUMNIA. Bastards and all. Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
MENENIUS. Come, come, peace.
SICINIUS. I would he had continued to his country As he began, and not unknit himself The noble knot he made.
BRUTUS. I would he had.
VOLUMNIA. “I would he had?” ’Twas you incensed the rabble. Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth As I can of those mysteries which heaven Will not have Earth to know.
BRUTUS. Pray, let’s go.
VOLUMNIA. Now, pray, sir, get you gone. You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this: As far as doth the Capitol exceed The meanest house in Rome, so far my son— This lady’s husband here, this, do you see?— Whom you have banished, does exceed you all.
BRUTUS. Well, well, we’ll leave you.
SICINIUS. Why stay we to be baited With one that wants her wits?
[Exeunt Tribunes.]
VOLUMNIA. Take my prayers with you. I would the gods had nothing else to do But to confirm my curses. Could I meet ’em But once a day, it would unclog my heart Of what lies heavy to’t.
MENENIUS. You have told them home, And, by my troth, you have cause. You’ll sup with me?
VOLUMNIA. Anger’s my meat. I sup upon myself And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let’s go. Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do, In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
[Exeunt.]
MENENIUS. Fie, fie, fie!
[Exit Menenius.]
Act IV, Scene III — A highway between Rome and Antium
Enter a Roman and a Volsce.
ROMAN. I know you well, sir, and you know me. Your name I think is Adrian.
VOLSCE. It is so, sir. Truly, I have forgot you.
ROMAN. I am a Roman, and my services are, as you are, against ’em. Know you me yet?
VOLSCE. Nicanor, no?
ROMAN. The same, sir.
VOLSCE. You had more beard when I last saw you, but your favour is well approved by your tongue. What’s the news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state to find you out there. You have well saved me a day’s journey.
ROMAN. There hath been in Rome strange insurrections, the people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.
VOLSCE. Hath been? Is it ended, then? Our state thinks not so. They are in a most warlike preparation and hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.
ROMAN. The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing would make it flame again; for the nobles receive so to heart the banishment of that worthy Coriolanus that they are in a ripe aptness to take all power from the people and to pluck from them their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can tell you, and is almost mature for the violent breaking out.
VOLSCE. Coriolanus banished?
ROMAN. Banished, sir.
VOLSCE. You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.
ROMAN. The day serves well for them now. I have heard it said the fittest time to corrupt a man’s wife is when she’s fallen out with her husband. Your noble Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his great opposer Coriolanus being now in no request of his country.
VOLSCE. He cannot choose. I am most fortunate thus accidentally to encounter you. You have ended my business, and I will merrily accompany you home.
ROMAN. I shall between this and supper tell you most strange things from Rome, all tending to the good of their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you?
VOLSCE. A most royal one. The centurions and their charges, distinctly billeted, already in th’ entertainment, and to be on foot at an hour’s warning.
ROMAN. I am joyful to hear of their readiness and am the man, I think, that shall set them in present action. So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company.
VOLSCE. You take my part from me, sir. I have the most cause to be glad of yours.
ROMAN. Well, let us go together.
[Exeunt.]
Act IV, Scene IV — Antium. Before Aufidius’s house
Enter Coriolanus in mean apparel, disguised and muffled.
CORIOLANUS. A goodly city is this Antium. City, ’Tis I that made thy widows. Many an heir Of these fair edifices ’fore my wars Have I heard groan and drop. Then know me not, Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones In puny battle slay me.
Enter a Citizen.
Save you, sir.
CITIZEN. And you.
CORIOLANUS. Direct me, if it be your will, Where great Aufidius lies. Is he in Antium?
CITIZEN. He is, and feasts the nobles of the state At his house this night.
CORIOLANUS. Which is his house, beseech you?
CITIZEN. This here before you.
CORIOLANUS. Thank you, sir. Farewell.
[Exit Citizen.]
O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, Whose double bosoms seems to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise Are still together, who twin, as ’twere, in love Unseparable, shall within this hour, On a dissension of a doit, break out To bitterest enmity; so fellest foes, Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends And interjoin their issues. So with me: My birthplace hate I, and my love’s upon This enemy town. I’ll enter. If he slay me, He does fair justice; if he give me way, I’ll do his country service.
[Exit.]
Act IV, Scene V — Antium. A hall in Aufidius’s house
Music plays. Enter a Servingman.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Wine, wine, wine! What service is here? I think our fellows are asleep.
[Exit.]
Enter another Servingman.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Where’s Cotus? My master calls for him. Cotus!
[Exit.]
Enter Coriolanus.
CORIOLANUS. A goodly house. The feast smells well, but I Appear not like a guest.
Enter the First Servingman.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. What would you have, friend? Whence are you? Here’s no place for you. Pray go to the door.
[Exit.]
CORIOLANUS. I have deserved no better entertainment In being Coriolanus.
Enter Second Servingman.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Whence are you, sir?—Has the porter his eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such companions?—Pray, get you out.
CORIOLANUS. Away!
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Away? Get you away.
CORIOLANUS. Now th’ art troublesome.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Are you so brave? I’ll have you talked with anon.
Enter Third Servingman; the First, entering, meets him.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. What fellow’s this?
FIRST SERVINGMAN. A strange one as ever I looked on. I cannot get him out o’ th’ house. Prithee call my master to him.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house.
CORIOLANUS. Let me but stand. I will not hurt your hearth.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. What are you?
CORIOLANUS. A gentleman.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. A marv’llous poor one.
CORIOLANUS. True, so I am.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station. Here’s no place for you. Pray you, avoid. Come.
CORIOLANUS. Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.
[Pushes him away from him.]
THIRD SERVINGMAN. What, you will not?—Prithee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. And I shall.
[Exit.]
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Where dwell’st thou?
CORIOLANUS. Under the canopy.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Under the canopy?
CORIOLANUS. Ay.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Where’s that?
CORIOLANUS. I’ th’ city of kites and crows.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. I’ th’ city of kites and crows? What an ass it is! Then thou dwell’st with daws too?
CORIOLANUS. No, I serve not thy master.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. How, sir? Do you meddle with my master?
CORIOLANUS. Ay, ’tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress. Thou prat’st and prat’st. Serve with thy trencher, hence!
[Beats him away.]
[Exit Third Servingman.]
Enter Aufidius with the Second Servingman.
AUFIDIUS. Where is this fellow?
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Here, sir. I’d have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within.
AUFIDIUS. Whence com’st thou? What wouldst thou? Thy name? Why speak’st not? Speak, man. What’s thy name?
CORIOLANUS. [Removing his muffler.] If, Tullus, Not yet thou know’st me, and, seeing me, dost not Think me for the man I am, necessity Commands me name myself.
AUFIDIUS. What is thy name?
CORIOLANUS. A name unmusical to the Volscians’ ears And harsh in sound to thine.
AUFIDIUS. Say, what’s thy name? Thou has a grim appearance, and thy face Bears a command in’t. Though thy tackle’s torn, Thou show’st a noble vessel. What’s thy name?
CORIOLANUS. Prepare thy brow to frown. Know’st thou me yet?
AUFIDIUS. I know thee not. Thy name?
CORIOLANUS. My name is Caius Martius, who hath done To thee particularly and to all the Volsces Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may My surname Coriolanus. The painful service, The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood Shed for my thankless country are requited But with that surname, a good memory And witness of the malice and displeasure Which thou shouldst bear me. Only that name remains. The cruelty and envy of the people, Permitted by our dastard nobles, who Have all forsook me, hath devoured the rest, And suffered me by th’ voice of slaves to be Whooped out of Rome. Now this extremity Hath brought me to thy hearth, not out of hope— Mistake me not—to save my life; for if I had feared death, of all the men i’ th’ world I would have ’voided thee, but in mere spite, To be full quit of those my banishers, Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight And make my misery serve thy turn. So use it That my revengeful services may prove As benefits to thee, for I will fight Against my cankered country with the spleen Of all the under fiends. But if so be Thou dar’st not this, and that to prove more fortunes Thou ’rt tired, then, in a word, I also am Longer to live most weary, and present My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice, Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, Since I have ever followed thee with hate, Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country’s breast, And cannot live but to thy shame, unless It be to do thee service.
AUFIDIUS. O Martius, Martius, Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yond cloud speak divine things And say ’tis true, I’d not believe them more Than thee, all-noble Martius. Let me twine Mine arms about that body, whereagainst My grained ash an hundred times hath broke And scarred the moon with splinters. Here I clip The anvil of my sword and do contest As hotly and as nobly with thy love As ever in ambitious strength I did Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, I loved the maid I married; never man Sighed truer breath. But that I see thee here, Thou noble thing, more dances my rapt heart Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars, I tell thee We have a power on foot, and I had purpose Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn Or lose mine arm for’t. Thou hast beat me out Twelve several times, and I have nightly since Dreamt of encounters ’twixt thyself and me; We have been down together in my sleep, Unbuckling helms, fisting each other’s throat, And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Martius, Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that Thou art thence banished, we would muster all From twelve to seventy and, pouring war Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, Like a bold flood o’erbear ’t. O, come, go in, And take our friendly senators by th’ hands, Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, Who am prepared against your territories, Though not for Rome itself.
CORIOLANUS. You bless me, gods!
AUFIDIUS. Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have The leading of thine own revenges, take Th’ one half of my commission and set down— As best thou art experienced, since thou know’st Thy country’s strength and weakness—thine own ways, Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, Or rudely visit them in parts remote To fright them ere destroy. But come in. Let me commend thee first to those that shall Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! And more a friend than e’er an enemy— Yet, Martius, that was much. Your hand. Most welcome!
[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius.]
Two of the Servingmen come forward.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Here’s a strange alteration!
SECOND SERVINGMAN. By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with a cudgel, and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a false report of him.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. What an arm he has! He turned me about with his finger and his thumb as one would set up a top.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in him. He had, sir, a kind of face, methought—I cannot tell how to term it.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. He had so, looking as it were—Would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. So did I, I’ll be sworn. He is simply the rarest man i’ th’ world.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. I think he is. But a greater soldier than he you wot one.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Who, my master?
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Nay, it’s no matter for that.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Worth six on him.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Nay, not so neither. But I take him to be the greater soldier.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that. For the defence of a town our general is excellent.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Ay, and for an assault too.
Enter the Third Servingman.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. O slaves, I can tell you news, news, you rascals!
FIRST and SECOND SERVINGMAN. What, what, what? Let’s partake.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lief be a condemned man.
FIRST and SECOND SERVINGMAN. Wherefore? Wherefore?
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Why, here’s he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Martius.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Why do you say, “thwack our general”?
THIRD SERVINGMAN. I do not say “thwack our general,” but he was always good enough for him.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Come, we are fellows and friends. He was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on’t, before Corioles; he scotched him and notched him like a carbonado.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. An he had been cannibally given, he might have boiled and eaten him too.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. But, more of thy news?
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Why, he is so made on here within as if he were son and heir to Mars; set at upper end o’ th’ table; no question asked him by any of the senators but they stand bald before him. Our general himself makes a mistress of him, sanctifies himself with’s hand, and turns up the white o’ th’ eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i’ th’ middle and but one half of what he was yesterday, for the other has half, by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He’ll go, he says, and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th’ ears. He will mow all down before him and leave his passage polled.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. And he’s as like to do’t as any man I can imagine.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Do’t? He will do’t! For look you, sir, he has as many friends as enemies, which friends, sir, as it were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as we term it, his friends whilest he’s in directitude.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Directitude? What’s that?
THIRD SERVINGMAN. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burrows like coneys after rain, and revel all with him.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. But when goes this forward?
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Tomorrow, today, presently. You shall have the drum struck up this afternoon. ’Tis as it were parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. Why then, we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Let me have war, say I. It exceeds peace as far as day does night. It’s sprightly walking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war’s a destroyer of men.
SECOND SERVINGMAN. ’Tis so, and as war in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.
FIRST SERVINGMAN. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
THIRD SERVINGMAN. Reason: because they then less need one another. The wars for my money! I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians. They are rising; they are rising.
ALL. In, in, in, in!
[Exeunt.]