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 market-place.—We'll attend you there: Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed In our first way.

MENENIUS. I'll bring him to you.— [To the SENATORS.] Let me desire your company: he must come, Or what is worst will follow.

FIRST SENATOR. Pray you let's to him.

[Exeunt.]



SCENE II. Rome. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house.

[Enter CORIOLANUS and Patricians.]

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: [To Volumnia.] 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 show'd them how ye were dispos'd, Ere they lack'd 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 counsell'd; 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 the herd, but that The violent fit o' the 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 the 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 unsever'd friends, I' the 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 the people; not by your own instruction, Nor by the 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 requir'd 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 pr'ythee now, my son, Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand; And thus far having stretch'd it,—here be with them,— Thy knee bussing the stones,—for in such busines Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the 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 ask'd, as free As words to little purpose.

VOLUMNIA. Pr'ythee now, Go, and be rul'd; although I know thou had'st rather Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf Than flatter him in a bower.

[Enter COMINIUS.]

Here is Cominius.

COMINIUS. I have been i' the market-place; 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.— Pr'ythee now, say you will, and go about it.

CORIOLANUS. Must I go show them my unbarb'd 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 Marcius, they to dust should grind it, And throw't against the wind.—To the market-place:— You have put me now to such a part which never I shall discharge to the life.

COMINIUS. Come, come, we'll prompt you.

VOLUMNIA. I pr'ythee 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 turn'd, Which quired 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 school-boys' tears take up The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue Make motion through my lips; and my arm'd knees, Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his That hath receiv'd 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 market-place; Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, Cog their hearts from them, and come home belov'd 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' the way of flattery further.

VOLUMNIA. Do your will.

[Exit.]

COMINIUS. Away! The tribunes do attend you: arm yourself To answer mildly; for they are prepar'd 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.]



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 favour'd him.

SICINIUS. Have you a catalogue Of all the voices that we have procur'd, Set down by the 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' the right and strength o' the 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' the truth o' the cause.

AEDILE. I shall inform them.

BRUTUS. And when such time they have begun to cry, Let them not cease, but with a din confus'd 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 us'd Ever to conquer, and to have his worth Of contradiction; being once chaf'd, he cannot Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks What's in his heart; and that is there which looks With us to break his neck.

SICINIUS. Well, here he comes.

[Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, Senators, and Patricians.]

MENENIUS. Calmly, I do beseech you.

CORIOLANUS. Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece Will bear the knave by the volume.—The 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.

[Re-enter the AEDILE, with Citizens.]

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 charg'd 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' the holy churchyard.

CORIOLANUS. Scratches with briers, 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 pass'd for consul with full voice, I am so dishonour'd 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 contriv'd to take From Rome all season'd 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' the lowest hell fold in the people! Call me their traitor!—Thou injurious tribune! Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, In thy hands clutch'd 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?

CITIZENS. To the rock, to the 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 the extremest death.

BRUTUS. But since he hath Serv'd 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' the 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' the people's name, I say it shall be so.

CITIZENS. 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 sentenc'd; 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 banish'd, As enemy to the people and his country: It shall be so.

CITIZENS. It shall be so, it shall be so.

CORIOLANUS. You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o' the 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, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians.]

AEDILE. The people's enemy is gone, is gone!

CITIZENS. Our enemy is banish'd, he is gone! Hoo! hoo!

[Shouting, and throwing up their caps.]

SICINIUS. Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, As he hath follow'd you, with all despite; Give him deserv'd vexation. Let a guard Attend us through the city.

CITIZENS. 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,and several young Patricians.]

CORIOLANUS. Come, leave your tears; a brief farewell:—he beast With many heads butts me away.—Nay, mother, Where is your ancient courage? you were us'd To say extremities was the trier of spirits; That common chances common men could bear; That when the sea was calm all boats alike Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves A noble cunning; you were us'd to load me With precepts that would make invincible The heart that conn'd them.

VIRGILIA. O heavens! O heavens!

CORIOLANUS. Nay, I pr'ythee, woman,—

VOLUMNIA. Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, And occupations perish!

CORIOLANUS. What, what, what! I shall be lov'd when I am lack'd. 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 sav'd 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 fear'd and talk'd 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' the way before thee.

CORIOLANUS. 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' the 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 unbruis'd: 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.]



SCENE II. Rome. A street near the gate.

[Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEDILE.]

SICINIUS. Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further.— The nobility are vex'd, 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.

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.

[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS.]

VOLUMNIA. O, you're well met: the hoarded plague o' the 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 BRUTUS.] Will you be gone?

VIRGILIA. You shall stay too[To SICINIUS.]: 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. Moe 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 continu'd 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 incens'd 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 us 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 banish'd does exceed you all.

BRUTUS. Well, well, we'll leave you.

SICINIUS. Why stay we to be baited With one that wants her wits?

VOLUMNIA. Take my prayers with you.—

[Exeunt TRIBUNES.]

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!



SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium.

[Enter a ROMAN and a VOLSCE, meeting.]

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 the 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.]



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.



SCENE V. Antium. A hall in AUFIDIUS'S house.

[Music within. Enter A SERVANT.]

FIRST SERVANT. Wine, wine, wine! What service is here! I think our fellows are asleep.

[Exit.]

[Enter a second SERVANT.]

SECOND SERVANT. 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.

[Re-enter the first SERVANT.]

FIRST SERVANT. What would you have, friend? whence are you? Here's no place for you: pray go to the door.

CORIOLANUS. I have deserv'd no better entertainment In being Coriolanus.

[Re-enter second SERVANT.]

SECOND SERVANT. 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 SERVANT. Away? Get you away.

CORIOLANUS. Now the art troublesome.

SECOND SERVANT. Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon.

[Enter a third SERVANT. The first meets him.]

THIRD SERVANT. What fellow's this?

FIRST SERVANT. A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out o' the house. Pr'ythee call my master to him.

THIRD SERVANT. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you avoid the house.

CORIOLANUS. Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.

THIRD SERVANT. What are you?

CORIOLANUS. A gentleman.

THIRD SERVANT. A marvellous poor one.

CORIOLANUS. True, so I am.

THIRD SERVANT. 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.]

THIRD SERVANT. What, you will not?—Pr'ythee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.

SECOND SERVANT. And I shall.

[Exit.]

THIRD SERVANT. Where dwell'st thou?

CORIOLANUS. Under the canopy.

THIRD SERVANT. Under the canopy?

CORIOLANUS. Ay.

THIRD SERVANT. Where's that?

CORIOLANUS. I' the city of kites and crows.

THIRD SERVANT. I' the 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 SERVANT. 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.]

[Enter AUFIDIUS and the second SERVANT.]

AUFIDIUS. Where is this fellow?

SECOND SERVANT. 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. [Unmuffling.] 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?

[Servants retire.]

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 Marcius, 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 devour'd the rest, And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be Whoop'd 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 fear'd death, of all the men i' the 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 canker'd country with the spleen Of all the under fiends. But if so be Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes Th'art tir'd, 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 follow'd 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 Marcius, Marcius! 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 Marcius.—Let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash an hundred times hath broke And scar'd 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 lov'd 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 wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, Had we no other quarrel else to Rome, but that Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all From twelve to seventy; and, pouring war Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, Like a bold flood o'erbear. O, come, go in, And take our friendly senators by the hands; Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, Who am prepar'd 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 experienc'd, 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, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome!

[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS.]

FIRST SERVANT. Here's a strange alteration!

SECOND SERVANT. 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 SERVANT. What an arm he has! He turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.

SECOND SERVANT. 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 SERVANT. He had so, looking as it were,—would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

SECOND SERVANT. So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest man i' the world.

FIRST SERVANT. I think he is; but a greater soldier than he you wot on.

SECOND SERVANT. Who, my master?

FIRST SERVANT. Nay, it's no matter for that.

SECOND SERVANT. Worth six on him.

FIRST SERVANT. Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the greater soldier.

SECOND SERVANT. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: for the defence of a town our general is excellent.

FIRST SERVANT. Ay, and for an assault too.

[Re-enter third SERVANT.]

THIRD SERVANT. O slaves, I can tell you news,—news, you rascals!

FIRST and SECOND SERVANT. What, what, what? let's partake.

THIRD SERVANT. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lief be a condemned man.

FIRST and SECOND SERVANT. Wherefore? wherefore?

THIRD SERVANT. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general,—Caius Marcius.

FIRST SERVANT. Why do you say, thwack our general?

THIRD SERVANT. I do not say thwack our general; but he was always good enough for him.

SECOND SERVANT. Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.

FIRST SERVANT. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on't; before Corioli he scotched him and notched him like a carbonado.

SECOND SERVANT. An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too.

FIRST SERVANT. But more of thy news?

THIRD SERVANT. Why, he is so made on here within as if he were son and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the 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' the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' the 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 the ears; he will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled.

SECOND SERVANT. And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.

THIRD SERVANT. 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, whilst he's in dejectitude.

FIRST SERVANT. Dejectitude! what's that?

THIRD SERVANT. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with him.

FIRST SERVANT. But when goes this forward?

THIRD SERVANT. To-morrow; to-day; 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 SERVANT. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

FIRST SERVANT. Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, 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 SERVANT. '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 SERVANT. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.

THIRD SERVANT. 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.]



SCENE VI. Rome. A public place.

[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.]

SICINIUS. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; His remedies are tame i' the present peace And quietness of the people, which before Were in wild hurry. Here do make his friends Blush that the world goes well; who rather had, Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going About their functions friendly.

BRUTUS. We stood to't in good time.—Is this Menenius?

SICINIUS. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind Of late.

[Enter MENENIUS

BRUTUS. Hail, sir!

MENENIUS. Hail to you both!

SICINIUS. Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd But with his friends: the commonwealth doth stand; And so would do, were he more angry at it.

MENENIUS. All's well, and might have been much better if He could have temporiz'd.

SICINIUS. Where is he, hear you?

MENENIUS. Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.

[Enter three or four Citizens.]

CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both!

SICINIUS. God-den, our neighbours.

BRUTUS. God-den to you all, God-den to you all.

FIRST CITIZEN. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, Are bound to pray for you both.

SICINIUS. Live and thrive!

BRUTUS. Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus Had lov'd you as we did.

CITIZENS. Now the gods keep you!

BOTH TRIBUNES. Farewell, farewell.

[Exeunt Citizens.]

SICINIUS. This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows ran about the streets Crying confusion.

BRUTUS. Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving,—

SICINIUS. And affecting one sole throne, Without assistance.

MENENIUS. I think not so.

SICINIUS. We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

BRUTUS. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without him.

[Enter an AEDILE.]

AEDILE. Worthy tribunes, There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, Reports,—the Volsces with several powers Are enter'd in the Roman territories, And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before 'em.

MENENIUS. 'Tis Aufidius, Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, And durst not once peep out.

SICINIUS. Come, what talk you of Marcius?

BRUTUS. Go see this rumourer whipp'd.—It cannot be The Volsces dare break with us.

MENENIUS. Cannot be! We have record that very well it can; And three examples of the like hath been Within my age. But reason with the fellow, Before you punish him, where he heard this; Lest you shall chance to whip your information And beat the messenger who bids beware Of what is to be dreaded.

SICINIUS. Tell not me: I know this cannot be.

BRUTUS. Not possible.

[Enter A MESSENGER.]

MESSENGER. The nobles in great earnestness are going All to the senate-house: some news is come That turns their countenances.

SICINIUS. 'Tis this slave,— Go whip him fore the people's eyes:—his raising; Nothing but his report.

MESSENGER. Yes, worthy sir, The slave's report is seconded, and more, More fearful, is deliver'd.

SICINIUS. What more fearful?

MESSENGER. It is spoke freely out of many mouths,— How probable I do not know,—that Marcius, Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, And vows revenge as spacious as between The young'st and oldest thing.

SICINIUS. This is most likely!

BRUTUS. Rais'd only, that the weaker sort may wish Good Marcius home again.

SICINIUS. The very trick on 't.

MENENIUS. This is unlikely: He and Aufidius can no more atone Than violentest contrariety.

[Enter a second MESSENGER.]

SECOND MESSENGER. You are sent for to the senate: A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius Associated with Aufidius, rages Upon our territories; and have already O'erborne their way, consum'd with fire and took What lay before them.

[Enter COMINIUS.]

COMINIUS. O, you have made good work!

MENENIUS. What news? what news?

COMINIUS. You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and To melt the city leads upon your pates; To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,—

MENENIUS. What's the news? what's the news?

COMINIUS. Your temples burned in their cement; and Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd Into an auger's bore.

MENENIUS. Pray now, your news?— You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news. If Marcius should be join'd wi' the Volscians,—

COMINIUS. If! He is their god: he leads them like a thing Made by some other deity than nature, That shapes man better; and they follow him, Against us brats, with no less confidence Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, Or butchers killing flies.

MENENIUS. You have made good work, You and your apron men; you that stood so much Upon the voice of occupation and The breath of garlic-eaters!

COMINIUS. He'll shake Your Rome about your ears.

MENENIUS. As Hercules Did shake down mellow fruit.—You have made fair work!

BRUTUS. But is this true, sir?

COMINIUS. Ay; and you'll look pale Before you find it other. All the regions Do smilingly revolt; and who resists Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him? Your enemies and his find something in him.

MENENIUS. We are all undone unless The noble man have mercy.

COMINIUS. Who shall ask it? The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people Deserve such pity of him as the wolf Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charg'd him even As those should do that had deserv'd his hate, And therein show'd like enemies.

MENENIUS. 'Tis true: If he were putting to my house the brand That should consume it, I have not the face To say 'Beseech you, cease.'—You have made fair hands, You and your crafts! You have crafted fair!

COMINIUS. You have brought A trembling upon Rome, such as was never So incapable of help.

BOTH TRIBUNES. Say not, we brought it.

MENENIUS. How! Was it we? we lov'd him, but, like beasts, And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, Who did hoot him out o' the city.

COMINIUS. But I fear They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, The second name of men, obeys his points As if he were his officer:—desperation Is all the policy, strength, and defence, That Rome can make against them.

[Enter a troop of citizens.]

MENENIUS. Here comes the clusters.— And is Aufidius with him?—You are they That made the air unwholesome, when you cast Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming; And not a hair upon a soldier's head Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs As you threw caps up will he tumble down, And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter; If he could burn us all into one coal We have deserv'd it.

CITIZENS. Faith, we hear fearful news.

FIRST CITIZEN. For mine own part, When I said banish him, I said 'twas pity.

SECOND CITIZEN. And so did I.

THIRD CITIZEN. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very many of us. That we did, we did for the best; and though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our will.

COMINIUS. You are goodly things, you voices!

MENENIUS. You have made Good work, you and your cry!—Shall's to the Capitol?

COMINIUS. O, ay; what else? [Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS.]

SICINIUS. Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd; These are a side that would be glad to have This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, And show no sign of fear.

FIRST CITIZEN. The gods be good to us!—Come, masters, let's home. I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished him.

SECOND CITIZEN. So did we all. But come, let's home.

[Exeunt Citizens.]

BRUTUS. I do not like this news.

SICINIUS. Nor I.

BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol:—would half my wealth Would buy this for a lie!

SICINIUS. Pray let's go.

[Exeunt.]



SCENE VII. A camp at a short distance from Rome.

[Enter AUFIDIUS and his LIEUTENANT.]

AUFIDIUS. Do they still fly to the Roman?

LIEUTENANT. I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; And you are darken'd in this action, sir, Even by your own.

AUFIDIUS. I cannot help it now, Unless by using means, I lame the foot Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, Even to my person, than I thought he would When first I did embrace him: yet his nature In that's no changeling; and I must excuse What cannot be amended.

LIEUTENANT. Yet I wish, sir,— I mean, for your particular,—you had not Join'd in commission with him; but either Had borne the action of yourself, or else To him had left it solely.

AUFIDIUS. I understand thee well; and be thou sure, When he shall come to his account, he knows not What I can urge against him. Although it seems, And so he thinks, and is no less apparent To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly, And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon As draw his sword: yet he hath left undone That which shall break his neck or hazard mine Whene'er we come to our account.

LIEUTENANT. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?

AUFIDIUS. All places yield to him ere he sits down; And the nobility of Rome are his; The senators and patricians love him too: The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it By sovereignty of nature. First he was A noble servant to them; but he could not Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, Which out of daily fortune ever taints The happy man; whether defect of judgment, To fail in the disposing of those chances Which he was lord of; or whether nature, Not to be other than one thing, not moving From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace Even with the same austerity and garb As he controll'd the war; but one of these,— As he hath spices of them all, not all, For I dare so far free him,—made him fear'd, So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues Lie in the interpretation of the time: And power, unto itself most commendable, Hath not a tomb so evident as a cheer To extol what it hath done. One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail. Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.

[Exeunt.]



ACT V.

SCENE I. Rome. A public place

[Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS and BRUTUS, and others.]

MENENIUS. No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said Which was sometime his general; who lov'd him In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; A mile before his tent fall down, and knee The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.

COMINIUS. He would not seem to know me.

MENENIUS. Do you hear?

COMINIUS. Yet one time he did call me by my name: I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops That we have bled together. Coriolanus He would not answer to: forbad all names; He was a kind of nothing, titleless, Till he had forg'd himself a name i' the fire Of burning Rome.

MENENIUS. Why, so!—you have made good work! A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, To make coals cheap,—a noble memory!

COMINIUS. I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon When it was less expected: he replied, It was a bare petition of a state To one whom they had punish'd.

MENENIUS. Very well: Could he say less?

COMINIUS. I offer'd to awaken his regard For's private friends: his answer to me was, He could not stay to pick them in a pile Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt And still to nose the offence.

MENENIUS. For one poor grain Or two! I am one of those; his mother, wife, His child, and this brave fellow too- we are the grains: You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt Above the moon: we must be burnt for you.

SICINIUS. Nay, pray be patient: if you refuse your aid In this so never-needed help, yet do not Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, More than the instant army we can make, Might stop our countryman.

MENENIUS. No; I'll not meddle.

SICINIUS. Pray you, go to him.

MENENIUS. What should I do?

BRUTUS. Only make trial what your love can do For Rome, towards Marcius.

MENENIUS. Well, and say that Marcius Return me, as Cominius is return'd, Unheard; what then? But as a discontented friend, grief-shot With his unkindness? Say't be so?

SICINIUS. Yet your good-will Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure As you intended well.

MENENIUS. I'll undertake't; I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me. He was not taken well: he had not din'd; The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then We pout upon the morning, are unapt To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd These pipes and these conveyances of our blood With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll watch him Till he be dieted to my request, And then I'll set upon him.

BRUTUS. You know the very road into his kindness And cannot lose your way.

MENENIUS. Good faith, I'll prove him, Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge Of my success.

[Exit.]

COMINIUS. He'll never hear him.

SICINIUS. Not?

COMINIUS. I tell you he does sit in gold, his eye Red as 'twould burn Rome: and his injury The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; 'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise'; dismissed me Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, He sent in writing after me; what he would not, Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: So that all hope is vain, Unless his noble mother and his wife; Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, And with our fair entreaties haste them on.

[Exeunt.]



SCENE II. An Advanced post of the Volscian camp before Rome. The Guards at their station.

[Enter to them MENENIUS.]

FIRST GUARD. Stay: whence are you?

SECOND GUARD. Stand, and go back.

MENENIUS. You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave, I am an officer of state, and come To speak with Coriolanus.

FIRST GUARD. From whence?

MENENIUS. From Rome.

FIRST GUARD. You may not pass; you must return: our general Will no more hear from thence.

SECOND GUARD. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire before You'll speak with Coriolanus.

MENENIUS. 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.

FIRST GUARD. Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name Is not here passable.

MENENIUS. I tell thee, fellow, Thy general is my lover: I have been The book of his good acts, whence men have read 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.

FIRST GUARD. 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.

MENENIUS. Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always factionary on the party of your general.

SECOND GUARD. 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.

MENENIUS. Has he dined, canst thou tell? For I would not speak with him till after dinner.

FIRST GUARD. You are a Roman, are you?

MENENIUS. I am as thy general is.

FIRST GUARD. 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.

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

SECOND GUARD. Come, my captain knows you not.

MENENIUS. I mean thy general.

FIRST GUARD. My general cares not for you. Back, I say; go, lest I let forth your half pint of blood;—back; that's the utmost of your having:—back.

MENENIUS. Nay, but fellow, fellow,—

[Enter CORIOLANUS with AUFIDIUS.]

CORIOLANUS. What's the matter?

MENENIUS. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; you shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall perceive that a jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus: guess but by my entertainment with him if thou standest not i' the state of hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee.—The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius does! O my son! my son! thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's water 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; and conjure thee to pardon Rome and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this, who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.

CORIOLANUS. Away!

MENENIUS. How! away!

CORIOLANUS. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs Are servanted to others: though I owe My revenge properly, my remission lies In Volscian 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 Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee, 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 beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st!

AUFIDIUS. You keep a constant temper.

[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS.]

FIRST GUARD. Now, sir, is your name Menenius?

SECOND GUARD. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the way home again.

FIRST GUARD. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

SECOND GUARD. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?

MENENIUS. I neither care for the world nor your general; for such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, y'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! [Exit.]

FIRST GUARD. A noble fellow, I warrant him.

SECOND GUARD. The worthy fellow is our general: he is the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken.

[Exeunt.]



SCENE III. The tent of CORIOLANUS.

[Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others.]

CORIOLANUS. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow Set down our host.—My partner in this action, You must report to the Volscian lords how plainly I have borne this business.

AUFIDIUS. Only their ends You have respected; stopped your ears against The general suit of Rome; never admitted A private whisper, no, not with such friends That thought them sure of you.

CORIOLANUS. This last old man, Whom with 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 I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter Will I lend ear to.—

[Shout within.]

Ha! what shout is this? Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow In the same time 'tis made? I will not.

[Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading YOUNG MARCIUS, VALERIA, and attendants.]

My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! All bond and privilege of nature, break! Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.— What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' 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 Volsces 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.

VIRGILIA. My lord and husband!

CORIOLANUS. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.

VIRGILIA. The sorrow that delivers us thus chang'd Makes you think so.

CORIOLANUS. 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 e'er since.—You gods! I prate, And the most noble mother of the world Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth;

[Kneels.]

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

VOLUMNIA. O, stand up bless'd! Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, I kneel before thee; and unproperly Show duty, as mistaken all this while Between the child and parent.

[Kneels.]

CORIOLANUS. What is this? 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,; Murdering impossibility, to make What cannot be, slight work.

VOLUMNIA. Thou art my warrior; I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?

CORIOLANUS. 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!

VOLUMNIA. This is a poor epitome of yours, Which, by the interpretation of full time, May show like all yourself.

CORIOLANUS. The god of soldiers, With the consent of supreme Jove, inform Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, And saving those that eye thee!

VOLUMNIA. Your knee, sirrah.

CORIOLANUS. That's my brave boy.

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

CORIOLANUS. I beseech you, peace: Or, if you'd ask, remember this before,— The thing I have forsworn to grant may never 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.

VOLUMNIA. O, no more, no more! You have said you will not grant us anything; For we have nothing else to ask but that 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.

CORIOLANUS. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark: for we'll Hear nought from Rome in private.—Your request?

VOLUMNIA. 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 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 bound,—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 These wars determine: if I can not 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.

VIRGILIA. Ay, and mine, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time.

BOY. 'A shall not tread on me; I'll run away till I am bigger; but then I'll fight.

CORIOLANUS. Not of a woman's tenderness to be, Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. I have sat too long.

[Rising.]

VOLUMNIA. Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so that our request did tend To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces May say 'This mercy we have show'd,' the Romans 'This we receiv'd,' and each in either side Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, 'Be bless'd For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, 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; Destroy'd his country, and his name remains To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: 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 you: He cares not for your weeping.—Speak thou, boy: Perhaps thy childishness will move him more Than can our reasons.—There's no man in the world More bound to's 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's: 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 Volscian to his mother; His wife is in Corioli, and his child Like him by chance.—Yet give us our despatch: I am hush'd until our city be afire, And then I'll speak a little.

CORIOLANUS. [After holding VOLUMNIA by the hands, in silence.] O mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy 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, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?

AUFIDIUS. I was mov'd withal.

CORIOLANUS. 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!

AUFIDIUS. [Aside.] 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.

[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS.]

CORIOLANUS. [To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c.] Ay, by and by; But we'll 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.]

MENENIUS. See you yond coign o' the Capitol,—yond corner-stone?

SICINIUS. Why, what of that?

MENENIUS. 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.

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

MENENIUS. 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.

SICINIUS. He loved his mother dearly.

MENENIUS. 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.

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

MENENIUS. 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.

SICINIUS. The gods be good unto us!

MENENIUS. 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

MESSENGER. 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 a second MESSENGER.]

SICINIUS. What's the news?

SECOND MESSENGER. Good news, good news;—the ladies have prevail'd, The Volscians are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone: A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

SICINIUS. Friend, Art thou certain this is true? is't most certain?

SECOND MESSENGER. 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, drums beaten, aand shouting within.]

The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, Tabors and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you!

[Shouting within.]

MENENIUS. 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 Ied not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!

[Shouting and music.]

SICINIUS. First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, Accept my thankfulness.

SECOND MESSENGER. Sir, we have all Great cause to give great thanks.

SICINIUS. They are near the city?

MESSENGER. Almost at point to enter.

SICINIUS. We'll meet them, And help the joy.

[Exeunt.]



SCENE V. Rome. A street near the gate.

[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, &c., accompanied by Senators, Patricians, and Citizens.]

FIRST SENATOR. 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!

[Exeunt.]



SCENE VI. Antium. A public place.

[Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with attendants.]

AUFIDIUS. Go tell the lords o' 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 and Intends t' appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: despatch.

[Exeunt attendants.]

[Enter three or four CONSPIRATORS of AUFIDIUS' faction.]

Most welcome!

FIRST CONSPIRATOR. How is it with our general?

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

SECOND CONSPIRATOR. Most noble sir, If you do hold the same intent wherein You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you Of your great danger.

AUFIDIUS. Sir, I cannot tell: We must proceed as we do find the people.

THIRD CONSPIRATOR. The people will remain uncertain whilst 'Twixt you there's difference: but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.

AUFIDIUS. I know it; And my pretext to strike at him admits 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.

THIRD CONSPIRATOR. Sir, his stoutness When he did stand for consul, which he lost By lack of stooping,—

AUFIDIUS. That I would have spoken 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 made 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 I had been mercenary.

FIRST CONSPIRATOR. So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it; and, in the last, When he had carried Rome, and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory,—

AUFIDIUS. There was it;— 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!

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

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

SECOND CONSPIRATOR. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear With giving him glory.

THIRD CONSPIRATOR. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself or move the people With what he would say, let him feel your sword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounc'd shall bury His reasons with his body.

AUFIDIUS. Say no more: Here come the lords.

[Enter the LORDS of the city.]

LORDS. You are most welcome home.

AUFIDIUS. I have not deserv'd it. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd What I have written to you?

LORDS. We have.

FIRST LORD. And grieve to hear't. 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.

AUFIDIUS. He approaches: you shall hear him.

[Enter CORIOLANUS, with drum and colours; a crowd of Citizens with him.]

CORIOLANUS. 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, Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, Together with the seal o' the senate, what We have compounded on.

AUFIDIUS. Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor, in the highest degree He hath abus'd your powers.

CORIOLANUS. Traitor!—How now?

AUFIDIUS. Ay, traitor, Marcius.

CORIOLANUS. Marcius!

AUFIDIUS. 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 o' 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 oath and resolution, like A twist of rotten silk; never admitting Counsel o' the war; but at his nurse's tears He whin'd and roar'd away your victory; That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart Look'd wondering each at others.

CORIOLANUS. Hear'st thou, Mars?

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

CORIOLANUS. Ha!

AUFIDIUS. No more.

CORIOLANUS. 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 I 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 upon him; that must bear My beating to his grave,—shall join to thrust The lie unto him.

FIRST LORD. Peace, both, and hear me speak.

CORIOLANUS. Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.—Boy! False hound! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: Alone I did it.—Boy!

AUFIDIUS. 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?

CONSPIRATORS. Let him die for't.

CITIZENS. Tear him to pieces, do it presently:—he killed my son; my daughter; he killed my cousin Marcus; he killed my father,—

SECOND LORD. Peace, ho!—no outrage;—peace! The man is noble, and his fame folds in This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us Shall have judicious hearing.—Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace.

CORIOLANUS. O that I had him, With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, To use my lawful sword!

AUFIDIUS. Insolent villain!

CONSPIRATORS. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

[AUFIDIUS and the CONSPIRATORS draw, and kill CORIOLANUS,who falls. AUFIDIUS stands on him.]

LORDS. Hold, hold, hold, hold!

AUFIDIUS. My noble masters, hear me speak.

FIRST LORD. O Tullus,—

SECOND LORD. Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

THIRD LORD. Tread not upon him.—Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords.

AUFIDIUS. 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.

FIRST 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 um.

SECOND LORD. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it.

AUFIDIUS. 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 unchilded 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.]

THE END