SCENE I.
Rome. A Publick Place.
Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus, and Others.
Men.
No, I'll not go: you hear, what he hath said,
-- 192 --
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 kneel
The way into his mercy: Nay, if he coy'd1 note
To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
Com.
He would not seem to know me.
Men.
Do you hear?
Com.
Yet one time he did call me by my name:
I urg'd 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.
Men.
Why, so; you have made good work:
A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome2 note
,
To make coals cheap: A noble memory3 note!
Com.
I minded him, how royal 'twas to pardon
When it was less expected: He replied,
It was a bare petition4 note
of a state
To one whom they had punish'd.
-- 193 --
Men.
Very well:
Could he say less?
Com.
I offer'd to awaken his regard
For his 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.
Men.
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.
Sic.
Nay, pray, be patient: If you refuse your aid
In this so never-heeded help, yet do not
Upbraid us 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.
Men.
No; I'll not meddle.
Sic.
Pray you5 note, go to him.
Men.
What should I do?
-- 194 --
Bru.
Only make trial what your love can do
For Rome, towards Marcius.
Men.
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?
Sic.
Yet your good will
Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
As you intended well.
Men.
I'll undertake it:
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'd6 note
:
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 fasts7 note
: therefore I'll watch him
Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I'll set upon him.
Bru.
You know the very road into his kindness,
And cannot lose your way.
Men.
Good faith, I'll prove him,
-- 195 --
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success8 note
.
[Exit.
Com.
He'll never hear him.
Sic.
Not?
Com.
I tell you, he does sit in gold9 note
, 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; dismiss'd 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 conditions1 note
:
So, that all hope is vain,
-- 196 --
Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
-- 197 --
For mercy to his country2 note
. Therefore, let's hence,
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.
[Exeunt.
-- 198 --
SCENE II.
An advanced Post of the Volcian Camp before Rome. The Guard at their Stations.
Enter to them, Menenius.
1 G.
Stay: Whence are you?
2 G.
Stand, and go back3 note.
Men.
You guard like men; 'tis well: But, by your leave,
I am an officer of state, and come
To speak with Coriolanus.
1 G.
From whence4 note?
Men.
From Rome.
1 G.
You may not pass, you must return: our general
Will no more hear from thence.
2 G.
You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire, before
You'll speak with Coriolanus.
Men.
Good my friends,
If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks5 note
,
-- 199 --
My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.
1 G.
Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name
Is not here passable.
Men.
I tell thee, fellow,
Thy general is my lover6 note: I have been
The book of his good acts, whence men have read7 note
His fame unparallel'd, haply, amplified;
For I have ever verified my friends,
(Of whom he's chief,) with all the size that verity8 note
-- 200 --
Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes,
Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground9 note
,
I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing1 note
: Therefore, fellow,
I must have leave to pass.
1 G.
'Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in
his behalf, as you have uttered words in your own,
you should not pass here: no, though it were as
virtuous to lie, as to live chastly. Therefore, go
back.
Men.
Pr'ythee, fellow, remember my name is
Menenius, always factionary on the party of your
general.
-- 201 --
2 G.
Howsoever you have been his liar, (as you
say, you have,) I am one that, telling true under
him, must say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go
back.
Men.
Has he dined, can'st thou tell? for I would
not speak with him till after dinner.
1 G.
You are a Roman, are you?
Men.
I am as thy general is.
1 G.
Then you should hate Rome, as he does.
Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the
very defender of them, and, in a violent popular
ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to
front his revenges with the easy groans2 note
of old women,
the virginal palms of your daughters3 note
, or with
the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant4 note
as you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the
intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with
such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived;
therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your execution:
you are condemned, our general has sworn
you out of reprieve and pardon.
Men.
Sirrah, If thy captain knew I were here, he
would use me with estimation.
2 G.
Come, my captain knows you not.
Men.
I mean, thy general.
-- 202 --
1 G.
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.
Men.
Nay, but fellow, fellow,—
Enter Coriolanus and Aufidius.
Cor.
What's the matter?
Men.
Now, you companion5 note, I'll say an errand
for you; you shall know now that I am in estimation;
you shall perceive that a Jack guardant6 note cannot
office me from my son Coriolanus: guess, but
by my entertainment with him7 note
, if thou stand'st
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 synod8 note
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
-- 203 --
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.
Cor.
Away!
Men.
How! away?
Cor.
Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs
Are servanted to others: Though I owe
My revenge properly9 note
, my remission lies
In Volcian breasts. That we have been familiar,
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
Than pity note how much.—Therefore, be gone.
Mine ears against your suits are stronger, than
Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee1 note
,
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—
Auf.
You keep a constant temper.
[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufid.
1 G.
Now, sir, is your name Menenius.
2 G.
'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: You
know the way home again.
1 G.
Do you hear how we are shent2 note
for keeping
your greatness back?
-- 204 --
2 G.
What cause, do you think, I have to
swoon?
Men.
I neither care for the world, nor your general:
for such things as you, I can scarce think
there's any, you are so slight. He that hath a will
to die by himself3 note, 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.
1 G.
A noble fellow, I warrant him.
2 G.
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.
Cor.
We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow
Set down our host.—My partner in this action,
You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly
I have borne this business4 note
.
Auf.
Only their ends
You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
-- 205 --
The general suit of Rome; never admitted
A private whisper, no, not with such friends
That thought them sure of you.
Cor.
This last old man,
Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
Loved me above the measure of a father;
Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
Was to send him: for whose old love5 note
, 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 too: Fresh embassies, and suits,
Nor from the state, nor private friends, hereafter
Will I lend ear to.—Ha! what shout is this?
[Shout within.
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 grand-child 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' eyes6 note
,
-- 206 --
Which can make gods forsworn?—I melt, and am not
Of stronger earth than others.—My mother bows;
As if Olympus to a molehill7 note
should
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspéct of intercession, which
Great nature cries, Deny not.—Let the Volces
Plough Rome, and harrow Italy; I'll never
Be such a gosling to obey instínct; but stand,
As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin.
Vir.
My lord and husband!
Cor.
These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
Vir.
The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd,
Makes you think so8 note
.
Cor.
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace9 note
. 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!
-- 207 --
Now by the jealous queen of heaven1 note, that kiss
I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
Hath virgin'd it e'er since.—You gods! I prate2 note,
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.
Vol.
O, stand up bless'd!
Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,
I kneel before thee; and unproperly
Show duty, as mistaken all the while
Between the child and parent.
[Kneels.
Cor.
What is this?
Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach3 note
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the firy sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.
-- 208 --
Vol.
Thou art my warrior;
I holp to frame thee4 note. Do you know this lady?
Cor.
The noble sister of Publicola5 note
,
The moon of Rome6 note; chaste as the icicle7 note
,
-- 209 --
That's curdied by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria!
Vol.
This is a poor epitome of yours8 note
,
Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.
Cor.
The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove9 note, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st prove
To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw1 note
,
And saving those that eye thee!
Vol.
Your knee, sirrah.
Cor.
That's my brave boy.
Vol.
Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
Are suitors to you.
Cor.
I beseech you, peace:
Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;
The things, 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 mechanicks:—Tell me not
-- 210 --
Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not
To allay my rages and revenges, with
Your colder reasons.
Vol.
O, no more, no more!
You have said, you will not grant us any thing;
For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: Yet we will ask;
That, if you fail in our request1 note, the blame
May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
Cor.
Aufidius, and you Volces, mark; for we'll
Hear nought from Rome in private.—Your request?
Vol.
Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment2 note
,
-- 211 --
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exíle. 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 shake3 note 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
-- 212 --
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till
These wars determine4 note
: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country, than to tread
(Trust to't, thou shalt not,) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Vir.
Ay, and mine5 note
,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
Living to time.
Boy.
He shall not tread on me;
I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor.
Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.
[Rising.
Vol.
Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
As poisonous of your honour: No; our suit
Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volces
May say, This mercy we have show'd; the Romans,
This we receiv'd; and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, Be bless'd
For making up this peace! Thou knows't, great son,
The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
-- 213 --
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 strains6 note
of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur7 note
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 is no man in the world
More bound to his mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i' the stocks8 note. 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,
-- 214 --
Loaden with honour. Say, my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: But, if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty, which
To a mother's part belongs.—He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride,
Than pity to our prayers. Down; An end:
This is the last;—So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.—Nay, behold us:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels, and holds up hands, for fellowship,
Does reason our petition9 note with more strength
Than thou hast to deny't.—Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli, and his child
Like him by chance:—Yet give us our despatch:
I am hush'd until our city be afire,
And then I'll speak a little.
Cor.
O mother, mother1 note!
[Holding Volumnia by the Hands, silent.
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,
-- 215 --
Were you in my stead, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf.
I was mov'd withal.
Cor.
I dare be sworn, you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing, to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: For my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you,
Stand to me in this cause.—O mother! wife!
Auf.
I am glad, thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour
At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
Myself a former fortune2 note
.
[Aside.
[The Ladies make signs to Coriolanus.
Cor.
Ay, by and by;
[To Volumnia, Virgilia, &c.
But we will drink together3 note
; 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 you4 note: all the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.
[Exeunt.
-- 216 --
SCENE IV.
Rome. A Publick Place.
Enter Menenius and Sicinius.
Men.
See you yond' coign o' the Capitol; yond'
corner-stone?
Sic.
Why, what of that?
Men.
If it be possible for you to displace it with
your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of
Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him.
But I say, there is no hope in't; our throats are
sentenced, and stay upon execution6 note
.
Sic.
Is't possible, that so short a time can alter
the condition of a man?
Men.
There is differency between a grub, and a
butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius
is grown from man to dragon: he has wings;
he's more than a creeping thing.
Sic.
He loved his mother dearly.
Men.
So did he me: and he no more remembers
his mother now, than an eight year old horse7 note.
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 state8 note
, as a thing made
-- 217 --
for Alexander. What he bids be done, is finished
with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but
eternity, and a heaven to throne in.
Sic.
Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.
Men.
I paint him in the character. Mark what
mercy his mother shall bring from him: There is
no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a male
tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is
'long of you.
Sic.
The gods be good unto us!
Men.
No, in such a case the gods will not be
good unto us. When we banished him, we respected
not them: and, he returning to break our
necks, they respect not us.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house;
The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune,
And hale him up and down; all swearing, if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They'll give him death by inches.
Enter another Messenger.
Sic.
What's the news?
Mess.
Good news, good news;—The ladies have prevail'd,
The Volces are dislodg'd, and Marcius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
Sic.
Friend,
Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
Mess.
As certain, as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
-- 218 --
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
As the recomforted through the gates9 note
. Why, hark you;
[Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and Drums
beaten, all together. Shouting also within.
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans,
Make the sun dance. Hark you!
[Shouting again.
Men.
This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land-full: You have pray'd well to-day;
This morning for ten thousand of your throats
I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Shouting and Musick.
Sic.
First, the gods bless you for their tidings: next,
Accept my thankfulness.
Mess.
Sir, we have all
Great cause to give great thanks.
-- 219 --
Sic.
They are near the city?
Mess.
Almost at point to enter.
Sic.
We will meet them,
And help the joy.
[Going.
Enter the Ladies, accompanied by Senators, Patricians,
and People. They pass over the Stage.
1 Sen.
Behold our patroness, the life of Rome:
Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them:
Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
Cry,—Welcome, ladies, welcome!—
All.
Welcome, ladies!
Welcome!
[A Flourish with Drums and Trumpets.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Antium. A Publick Place.
Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.
Auf.
Go tell the lords of the city, I am here:
Deliver them this paper: having read it,
Bid them repair to the market-place; where I,
Even in theirs' and in the commons' ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse1 note
,
The city ports2 note by this hath enter'd, and
Intends to appear before the people, hoping
-- 220 --
To purge himself with words: Despatch.
[Exeunt Attendants.
Enter Three or Four Conspirators of Aufidius' Faction.
Most welcome!
1 Con.
How is it with our general?
Auf.
Even so,
As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
And with his charity slain.
2 Con.
Most noble sir,
If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
Of your great danger.
Auf.
Sir, I cannot tell;
We must proceed, as we do find the people.
3 Con.
The people will remain uncertain, whilst
'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
Auf.
I know it;
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: Who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends: and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
3 Con.
Sir, his stoutness,
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,—
Auf.
That I would have spoke of:
Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
-- 221 --
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; serv'd his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame,
Which he did end all his3 note
; 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 countenance4 note
, as if
I had been mercenary.
1 Con.
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,—
-- 222 --
Auf.
There was it;—
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd5 note 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.
1 Con.
Your native town you enter'd like a post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.
2 Con.
And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear,
With giving him glory.
3 Con.
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.
Auf.
Say no more;
Here come the lords.
Enter the Lords of the City.
Lords.
You are most welcome home.
Auf.
I have not deserv'd it.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perus'd
What I have written to you6 note
?
-- 223 --
Lords.
We have.
1 Lord.
And grieve to hear it.
What faults he made before the last, I think,
Might have found easy fines: but there to end,
Where he was to begin; and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge7 note
; making a treaty, where
There was a yielding; This admits no excuse.
Auf.
He approaches, you shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus, with Drums and Colours; a Croud of Citizens with him.
Cor.
Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier;
No more infected with my country's love,
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know,
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage, led your wars, even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home,
Do more than counterpoise, a full third part,
The charges of the action. We have made peace,
With no less honour to the Antiates,
Than shame to the Romans: And we here deliver,
Subscrib'd by the consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o' the senate, what
We have compounded on.
Auf.
Read it not, noble lords;
But tell the traitor, in the highest degree
He hath abus'd your powers.
Cor.
Traitor!—How now?—
Auf.
Ay, traitor, Marcius!
Cor.
Marcius!
-- 224 --
Auf.
Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius; Dost thou think
I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?—
You lords and heads of the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt8 note
, 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 other.
Cor.
Hear'st thou, Mars?
Auf.
Name not the god, thou boy of tears,—
Cor.
Ha!
Auf.
No more9 note
.
Cor.
Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!—
Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
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 on him; that must bear
My beating to his grave;) shall join to thrust
The lie unto him.
1 Lord.
Peace, both, and hear me speak.
-- 225 --
Cor.
Cut me to pieces, Volces; 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 Volces in Corioli:
Alone I did it.—Boy!
Auf.
Why, noble lords,
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
'Fore your own eyes and ears?
Con.
Let him die for't.
[Several speak at once.
Cit. [Speaking promiscuously.]
Tear him to
pieces, do it presently. He killed my son;—my
daughter;—He killed my cousin Marcus;—He
killed my father.—
2 Lord.
Peace, ho;—no outrage:—peace.
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o' the earth1 note
. His last offence to us
Shall have judicious hearing2 note.—Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
Cor.
O, that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!
Auf.
Insolent villain!
Con.
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
[Aufidius and the Conspirators draw, and kill
Coriolanus, who falls, and Aufidius stands on him.
-- 226 --
Lords.
Hold, hold, hold, hold.
Auf.
My noble masters, hear me speak.
1 Lord.
O Tullus,—
2 Lord.
Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
3 Lord.
Tread not upon him.—Masters all, be quiet;
Put up your swords.
Auf.
My lords, when you shall know (as in this rage,
Provok'd by him, you cannot,) the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
1 Lord.
Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
As the most noble corse, that ever herald
Did follow to his urn3 note
.
2 Lord.
His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let's make the best of it.
Auf.
My rage is gone;
And I am struck with sorrow.—Take him up:—
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.—
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes.—Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
-- 227 --
Yet he shall have a noble memory4 note.—
Assist.
[Exeunt, bearing the Body of Coriolanus. A dead March sounded5.
