Part 30

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._]

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._]

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._]

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._]

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._]

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.