Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his behaviour. We are not to stay all together, but to come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and by threes. He's to make his requests by particulars; wherein every one of us has a single honour, in giving him our own voices with our own tongues: therefore, follow me, and I'll direct you how you shall go by him.

All.

Content, content.

Men.
O sir, you are not right: have you not known
The worthiest men have done 't?

Cor.
What must I say?—
I pray, sir,—Plague upon't! I cannot bring
My tongue to such a pace.—Look, sir;—my wounds;—
I got them in my country's service, when
Some certain of your brethren roar'd, and ran
From the noise of our own drums.

Men.
O me, the gods!
You must not speak of that: you must desire them
To think upon you.

Cor.
Think upon me? Hang 'em!
I would they would forget me, like the virtues
Which our divines lose by 'em.

Men.
You'll mar all:
I'll leave you. Pray you, speak to them, I pray you,
In wholesome manner. [Exit. Enter two Citizens^{1 note}.

Cor.
Bid them wash their faces,
And keep their teeth clean.—So, here comes a brace.
You know the cause, sir, of my standing here.

1 Cit.
We do, sir: tell us what hath brought you to't.

Cor.
Mine own desert.

2 Cit.
Your own desert?

Cor.
Ay, not
Mine own desire^{2 note}.

1 Cit.
How! not your own desire?

Cor.
No, sir: 'twas never my desire yet,
To trouble the poor with begging.

1 Cit.

You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to gain by you.

Cor.
Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship?

1 Cit.
The price is, to ask it kindly.

Cor.
Kindly?
Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to show you,
Which shall be yours in private.—Your good voice, sir;
What say you?

2 Cit.
You shall ha't, worthy sir.

Cor.
A match, sir.—
There is in all two worthy voices begg'd.—
I have your alms: adieu.

1 Cit.
But this is something odd.

2 Cit.
An 'twere to give again,—but 'tis no matter. [Exeunt the Two Citizens. Enter two other Citizens.

Cor.

Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your voices that I may be consul, I have here the customary gown.

3 Cit.

You have deserved nobly of your country, and you have not deserved nobly.

Cor.

Your enigma?

3 Cit.

You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have been a rod to her friends: you have not, indeed, loved the common people.

Cor.

You should account me the more virtuous, that I have not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer estimation of them: 'tis a condition they account gentle; and since the wisdom of their choice is rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod, and be off to them most counterfeitly: that is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment of some popular man, and give it bountifully to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, I may be consul.

4 Cit.

We hope to find you our friend, and therefore give you our voices heartily.

3 Cit.

You have received many wounds for your country.

Cor.

I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no farther.

Both Cit.

The gods give you joy, sir, heartily.

Cor.
Most sweet voices!—
Better it is to die, better to starve,
Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.
Why in this woolvish toge^{3 note} should I stand here, 11Q0874

To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear,
Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't:—
What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
And mountainous error be too highly heap'd
For truth to o'er-peer.—Rather than fool it so,
Let the high office and the honour go
To one that would do thus.—I am half through:
The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. Enter three other Citizens.
Here come more voices.—
Your voices: for your voices I have fought;
Watch'd for your voices; for your voices bear
Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six
I have seen, and heard of: for your voices,
Have done many things, some less, some more.
Your voices: indeed, I would be consul.

5 Cit.

He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest man's voice.

6 Cit.

Therefore, let him be consul. The gods give him joy, and make him good friend to the people.

All.
Amen, amen.—
God save thee, noble consul! [Exeunt Citizens.

Cor.
Worthy voices! Re-enter Menenius, with Brutus, and Sicinius.

Men.
You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes
Endue you with the people's voice: remains
That, in th' official marks invested, you
Anon do meet the senate.

Cor.
Is this done?

Sic.
The custom of request you have discharg'd:
The people do admit you; and are summon'd
To meet anon upon your approbation.

Cor.
Where? at the senate-house?

Sic.
There, Coriolanus.

Cor.
May I change these garments?

Sic.
You may, sir.

Cor.
That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again,
Repair to the senate-house.

Men.
I'll keep you company.—Will you along?

Bru.
We stay here for the people.

Sic.
Fare you well. [Exeunt Coriol. and Menen.
He has it now; and by his looks, methinks,
'Tis warm at's heart.

Bru.
With a proud heart he wore
His humble weeds. Will you dismiss the people? Re-enter Citizens.

Sic.
How now, my masters! have you chose this man?

1 Cit.
He has our voices, sir.

Bru.
We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.

2 Cit.
Amen, sir. To my poor unworthy notice,
He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices.

3 Cit.
Certainly,
He flouted us down-right.

1 Cit.
No, 'tis his kind of speech; he did not mock us.

2 Cit.
Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says,
He us'd us scornfully: he should have show'd us
His marks of merit, wounds receiv'd for's country.

Sic.
Why, so he did, I am sure.

All.
No, no; no man saw 'em.

3 Cit.
He said, he had wounds, which he could show in private;
And with his hat thus waving it in scorn,
“I would be consul,” says he: “aged custom,
But by your voices, will not so permit me;
Your voices therefore.” When we granted that,
Here was, — “I thank you for your voices,—thank you,—
Your most sweet voices: — now you have left your voices,
I have no farther with you.”—Was not this mockery?

Sic.
Why, either, were you ignorant to see't,
Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness
To yield your voices?

Bru.
Could you not have told him,
As you were lesson'd—when he had no power,
But was a petty servant to the state,
He was your enemy; ever spake against
Your liberties, and the charters that you bear
I' the body of the weal: and now, arriving
A place of potency, and sway o' the state,
If he should still malignantly remain
Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might
Be curses to yourselves. You should have said,
That, as his worthy deeds did claim no less
Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature
Would think upon you for your voices, and
Translate his malice towards you into love,
Standing your friendly lord.

Sic.
Thus to have said,
As you were fore-advis'd, had touch'd his spirit,
And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd
Either his gracious promise, which you might,
As cause had called you up, have held him to,
Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature,
Which easily endures not article
Tying him to aught; so, putting him to rage,

You should have ta'en th' advantage of his choler,
And pass'd him unelected.

Bru.
Did you perceive,
He did solicit you in free contempt,
When he did need your loves, and do you think,
That his contempt shall not be bruising to you,
When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies
No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry
Against the rectorship of judgment?

Sic.
Have you,
Ere now, denied the asker; and, now again,
Of him, that did not ask, but mock, bestow
Your sued-for tongues^{4 note}
?

3 Cit.
He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet.

2 Cit.
And will deny him:
I'll have five hundred voices of that sound.

1 Cit.
Ay, twice five hundred, and their friends to piece 'em.

Bru.
Get you hence instantly; and tell those friends,
They have chose a consul that will from them take
Their liberties; make them of no more voice
Than dogs, that are as often beat for barking,
As therefore kept to do so.

Sic.
Let them assemble;
And, on a safer judgment, all revoke
Your ignorant election. Enforce his pride,
And his old hate unto you: besides, forget not
With what contempt he wore the humble weed;
How in his suit he scorn'd you, but your loves,
Thinking upon his services, took from you
The apprehension of his present portance,

Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion
After the inveterate hate he bears you.

Bru.
Lay
A fault on us, your tribunes; that we labour'd
(No impediment between) but that you must
Cast your election on him.

Sic.
Say, you chose him
More after our commandment, than as guided
By your own true affections; and that, your minds,
Pre-occupy'd with what you rather must do,
Than what you should, made you against the grain
To voice him consul. Lay the fault on us.

Bru.
Ay, spare us not. Say, we read lectures to you,
How youngly he began to serve his country.
How long continued, and what stock he springs of,
The noble house o' the Marcians; from whence came
That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son,
Who, after great Hostilius, here was king.
Of the same house Publius and Quintus were,
That our best water brought by conduits hither;
[And Censorinus, darling of the people^{5 note} 11Q0875,]
And nobly nam'd so, twice being censor^{6 note},

Was his great ancestor.

Sic.
One thus descended,
That hath beside well in his person wrought
To be set high in place, we did commend
To your remembrances; but you have found,
Scaling his present bearing with his past^{7 note},
That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke
Your sudden approbation.

Bru.
Say, you ne'er had done't,
(Harp on that still) but by our putting on;
And presently, when you have drawn your number,
Repair to the Capitol.

All.
We will so: almost all
Repent in their election. [Exeunt Citizens.

Bru.
Let them go on:
This mutiny were better put in hazard,
Than stay, past doubt, for greater.
If, as his nature is, he fall in rage
With their refusal, both observe and answer
The vantage of his anger.

Sic.
To the Capitol:
Come, we'll be there before the stream o' the people;
And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own,
Which we have goaded onward. [Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I. The Same. A Street. Cornets. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, Titus Lartius, Senators, and Patricians.

Cor.
Tullus Aufidius, then, had made new head?

Lart.
He had, my lord; and that it was, which caus'd
Our swifter composition.

Cor.
So then, the Volsces stand but as at first;
Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road
Upon us again.

Com.
They are worn, lord consul, so,
That we shall hardly in our ages see
Their banners wave again.

Cor.
Saw you Aufidius?

Lart.
On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse
Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely
Yielded the town: he is retir'd to Antium.

Cor.
Spoke he of me?

Lart.
He did, my lord.

Cor.
How? what?

Lart.
How often he had met you, sword to sword;
That of all things upon the earth he hated
Your person most; that he would pawn his fortunes
To hopeless restitution, so he might
Be call'd your vanquisher.

Cor.
At Antium lives he?

Lart.
At Antium.

Cor.
I wish, I had a cause to seek him there,
To oppose his hatred fully.—Welcome home. [To Lartius.

Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Behold! these are the tribunes of the people,
The tongues o' the common mouth. I do despise them,
For they do prank them in authority,
Against all noble sufferance.

Sic.
Pass no farther.

Cor.
Ha! what is that?

Bru.
It will be dangerous to go on: no farther.

Cor.
What makes this change?

Men.
The matter?

Com.
Hath he not pass'd the noble, and the common?

Bru.
Cominius, no.

Cor.
Have I had children's voices?

Sen.
Tribunes, give way: he shall to the market-place.

Bru.
The people are incens'd against him.

Sic.
Stop,
Or all will fall in broil.

Cor.
Are these your herd?—
Must these have voices, that can yield them now,
And straight disclaim their tongues?—What are your offices?
You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
Have you not set them on?

Men.
Be calm, be calm.

Cor.
It is a purpos'd thing, and grows by plot,
To curb the will of the nobility:
Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule,
Nor ever will be rul'd.

Bru.
Call't not a plot:
The people cry, you mock'd them; and, of late,
When corn was given them gratis, you repin'd;
Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them
Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.

Cor.
Why, this was known before.

Bru.
Not to them all.

Cor.
Have you inform'd them sithence?

Bru.
How! I inform them!

Com.
You are like to do such business^{8 note}.

Bru.
Not unlike,
Each way, to better yours.

Cor.
Why, then, should I be consul? By yond' clouds,
Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
Your fellow tribune.

Sic.
You show too much of that,
For which the people stir. If you will pass
To where you are bound, you must inquire your way,
Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit;
Or never be so noble as a consul,
Nor yoke with him for tribune.

Men.
Let's be calm.

Com.
The people are abus'd.—Set on.—This paltering
Becomes not Rome; nor has Coriolanus
Deserv'd this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely
I' the plain way of his merit.

Cor.
Tell me of corn!
This was my speech, and I will speak't again—

Men.
Not now, not now.

1 Sen.
Not in this heat, sir, now.

Cor.
Now, as I live, I will.—My nobler friends,
I crave their pardons:—
For the mutable, rank-scented many^{9 note}, let them

Regard me as I do not flatter, and
Therein behold themselves. I say again,
In soothing them we nourish 'gainst our senate
The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd,
By mingling them with us, the honour'd number;
Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that
Which they have given to beggars.

Men.
Well, no more.

Sen.
No more words, we beseech you.

Cor.
How! no more?
As for my country I have shed my blood,
Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs
Coin words till they decay against those meazels^{1 note},
Which we disdain should tetter us, yet sought
The very way to catch them.

Bru.
You speak o' the people,
As if you were a god to punish, not
A man of their infirmity.

Sic.
'Twere well,
We let the people know't.

Men.
What, what? his choler?

Cor.
Choler!
Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,
By Jove, 'twould be my mind.

Sic.
It is a mind,
That shall remain a poison where it is,
Not poison any farther.

Cor.
Shall remain!—
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you
His absolute “shall?”

Com.
'Twas from the canon.

Cor.
“Shall!”
O, good but most unwise patricians 11Q0876^{2 note}! why,
You grave but reckless senators, have you thus
Given Hydra here to choose an officer,
That with his peremptory “shall,” being but
The horn and noise o' the monsters, wants not spirit
To say, he'll turn your current in a ditch,
And make your channel his? If he have power,
Then vail your ignorance^{3 note}: if none, awake
Your dangerous lenity. If you are learned,
Be not as common fools; if you are not,
Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,
If they be senators; and they are no less,
When both your voices blended, the great'st taste
Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate;
And such a one as he, who puts his “shall,”
His popular “shall,” against a graver bench
Than ever frown'd in Greece. By Jove himself,
It makes the consuls base; and my soul aches,
To know, when two authorities are up,
Neither supreme, how soon confusion
May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take
The one by the other.

Com.
Well—on to the market-place.

Cor.
Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth
The corn o' the store-house gratis, as 'twas us'd
Sometime in Greece,—

Men.
Well, well; no more of that.

Cor.
Though there the people had more absolute power,
I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed

The ruin of the state.

Bru.
Why, shall the people give
One that speaks thus their voice?

Cor.
I'll give my reasons,
More worthier than their voices. They know, the corn
Was not our recompence^{4 note}, resting well assur'd
They ne'er did service for't. Being press'd to the war,
Even when the navel of the state was touch'd,
They would not thread the gates: this kind of service
Did not deserve corn gratis: being i' the war,
Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd
Most valour, spoke not for them. Th' accusation
Which they have often made against the senate,
All cause unborn, could never be the native
Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
How shall this bosom multiplied digest
The senate's courtesy? 11Q0877 Let deeds express
What's like to be their words:—“We did request it;
We are the greater poll, and in true fear
They gave us our demands.”—Thus we debase
The nature of our seats, and make the rabble
Call our cares, fears; which will in time break ope
The locks o' the senate, and bring in the crows
To peck the eagles.—

Men.
Come, enough.

Bru.
Enough, with over-measure.

Cor.
No, take more:
What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
Seal what I end withal!—This double worship,—
Where one part^{5 note} does disdain with cause, the other
Insult without all reason; where gentry, title, wisdom,
Cannot conclude, but by the yea and no

Of general ignorance,—it must omit
Real necessities, and give way the while
To unstable slightness. Purpose so barr'd, it follows,
Nothing is done to purpose: therefore, beseech you,
You that will be less fearful than discreet,
That love the fundamental part of state,
More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer
A noble life before a long, and wish
To jump a body with a dangerous physic^{6 note}
That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out
The multitudinous tongue: let them not lick
The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonour
Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state
Of that integrity which should become it,
Not having the power to do the good it would,
For th' ill which doth control it.

Bru.
He has said enough.

Sic.
He has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer
As traitors do.

Cor.
Thou wretch! despite o'erwhelm thee!—
What should the people do with these bald tribunes?
On whom depending, their obedience fails
To the greater bench. In a rebellion,
When what's not meet, but what must be, was law,
Then were they chosen: in a better hour,
Let what is meet, be said, it must be meet,
And throw their power i' the dust.

Bru.
Manifest treason.

Sic.
This a consul? no.

Bru.
The Ædiles, ho!—Let him be apprehended.

Enter an Ædile^{7 note}.

Sic.
Go, call the people; [Exit Ædile.] in whose name, myself
Attach thee as a traitorous innovator,
A foe to the public weal. Obey, I charge thee,
And follow to thine answer.

Cor.
Hence, old goat!

Sen.
We'll surety him^{8 note}.

Com.
Aged sir, hands off.

Cor.
Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones
Out of thy garments.

Sic.
Help, ye citizens! Re-enter the Ædile, with others, and a Rabble of Citizens.

Men.
On both sides more respect.

Sic.
Here's he, that would
Take from you all your power.

Bru.
Seize him, Ædiles.

Cit.
Down with him! down with him! [Several speak.

2 Sen.
Weapons! weapons! weapons! [They all bustle about Coriolanus.
Tribunes, patricians, citizens!—what ho!—
Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, citizens!

Cit.
Peace, peace, peace! stay, hold, peace!

Men.
What is about to be?—I am out of breath;
Confusion's near: I cannot speak.—You, tribunes
To the people,—Coriolanus, patience:—
Speak, good Sicinius.

Sic.
Hear me! people, peace!

Cit.
Let's hear our tribune:—Peace! Speak, speak, speak.

Sic.
You are at point to lose your liberties:
Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,
Whom late you have nam'd for consul.

Men.
Fie, fie, fie!
This is the way to kindle, not to quench.

Sen.
To unbuild the city, and to lay all flat.

Sic.
What is the city, but the people?

Cit.
True,
The people are the city.

Bru.
By the consent of all, we were establish'd
The people's magistrates.

Cit.
You so remain.

Men.
And so are like to do.

Com.
That is the way to lay the city flat;
To bring the roof to the foundation,
And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of ruin.

Sic.
This deserves death.

Bru.
Or let us stand to our authority,
Or let us lose it.—We do here pronounce,
Upon the part o' the people, in whose power
We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
Of present death.

Sic.
Therefore, lay hold of him.
Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.

Bru.
Ædiles, seize him.

Cit.
Yield, Marcius, yield.

Men.
Hear me one word.
Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

Ædi.
Peace, peace!

Men.
Be that you seem, truly your country's friend,
And temperately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.

Bru.
Sir, those cold ways,

That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous
Where the disease is violent.—Lay hands upon him,
And bear him to the rock.

Cor.
No; I'll die here. [Drawing his sword.
There's some among you have beheld me fighting:
Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.

Men.
Down with that sword!—Tribunes, withdraw a while.

Bru.
Lay hands upon him.

Men.
Help Marcius, help,
You that be noble; help him, young, and old!

Cit.
Down with him! down with him! [In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Ædiles, and the People, are beat in.

Men.
Go, get you to your house: be gone, away!
All will be naught else.

2 Sen.
Get you gone.

Com.
Stand fast;
We have as many friends as enemies.

Men.
Shall it be put to that?

1 Sen.
The gods forbid!
I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house;
Leave us to cure this cause.

Men.
For 'tis a sore upon us,
You cannot tent yourself. Begone, 'beseech you.

Com.
Come, sir, along with us.

Men.
I would they were barbarians, as they are,
Though in Rome litter'd, not Romans, as they are not,
Though calv'd i' the porch o' the Capitol!—Be gone;
Put not your worthy rage into your tongue:
One time will owe another.

Cor.
On fair ground,
I could beat forty of them.

Men.
I could myself
Take up a brace of the best of them; yea, the two tribunes.

Com.
But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic;
And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
Against a falling fabric.—Will you hence,
Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear
What they are used to bear.

Men.
Pray you, be gone.
I'll try whether my old wit be in request
With those that have but little: this must be patch'd
With cloth of any colour.

Com.
Nay, come away. [Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and Others.

1 Pat.
This man has marr'd his fortune.

Men.
His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death. [A noise within.
Here's goodly work!

2 Pat.
I would they were a-bed!

Men.
I would they were in Tyber!—What, the vengeance,
Could he not speak them fair? Re-enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the Rabble.

Sic.
Where is this viper,
That would depopulate the city, and
Be every man himself?

Men.
You worthy tribunes,—

Sic.
He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him farther trial
Than the severity of the public power,
Which he so sets at nought.

1 Cit.
He shall well know,
The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
And we their hands.

Cit.
He shall, sure on't.

Men.
Sir, sir,—

Sic.
Peace!

Men.
Do not cry havock, where you should but hunt
With modest warrant.

Sic.
Sir, how comes't, that you
Have holp to make this rescue?

Men.
Hear me speak.—
As I do know the consul's worthiness,
So can I name his faults.—

Sic.
Consul!—what consul?

Men.
The consul Coriolanus.

Bru.
He a consul!

Cit.
No, no, no, no, no.

Men.
If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,
I may be heard, I would crave a word or two;
The which shall turn you to no farther harm,
Than so much loss of time.

Sic.
Speak briefly then;
For we are peremptory to despatch
This viperous traitor. To eject him hence,
Were but one danger, and to keep him here,
Our certain death: therefore, it is decreed
He dies to-night.

Men.
Now the good gods forbid,
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll'd 11Q0878
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sic.
He's a disease, that must be cut away.

Men.
O! he's a limb, that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.

What has he done to Rome that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies? The blood he hath lost,
(Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
By many an ounce) he dropp'd it for his country:
And what is left, to lose it by his country,
Were to us all, that do't and suffer it,
A brand to th' end o' the world.

Sic.
This is clean kam^{9 note}

.

Bru.
Merely awry. When he did love his country,
It honour'd him.

Men.
The service of the foot,
Being once gangren'd, is not then respected
For what before it was.

Bru.
We'll hear no more.—
Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence,
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread farther.

Men.
One word more, one word.
This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find
The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will, too late,
Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process;
Lest parties (as he is belov'd) break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.

Bru.
If it were so,—

Sic.
What do ye talk?
Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our Ædiles smote? ourselves resisted?—come!—

Men.
Consider this:—he has been bred i' the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together

He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him in peace^{1 note}
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
In peace, to his utmost peril.

1 Sen.
Noble tribunes,
It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sic.
Noble Menenius,
Be you, then, as the people's officer.—
Masters, lay down your weapons.

Bru.
Go not home.

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

Men.
I'll bring him to you.—
Let me desire your company. [To the Senators.] He must come,
Or what is worst will follow.

1 Sen.
Pray you, let's to him. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in Coriolanus's House. Enter Coriolanus, and Patricians.

Cor.
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. Enter Volumnia. 11Q0879

1 Pat.
You do the nobler.

Cor.
I muse my mother
Does not approve me farther, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals; things created
To buy and sell with groats; to show bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder,
When one but of my ordinance stood up
To speak of peace, or war. I talk of you: [To Volumnia.
Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say, I play
The man I am.

Vol.
O, sir, sir, sir!
I would have had you put your power well on,
Before you had worn it out.

Cor.
Let go.

Vol.
You might have been enough the man you are,
With striving less to be so: lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions^{2 note}, if
You had not show'd them how you were dispos'd,
Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

Cor.
Let them hang.

Vol.
Ay, and burn too. Enter Menenius, and Senators.

Men.
Come, come; you have been too rough, something too rough:
You must return, and mend it.

1 Sen.
There's no remedy;
Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Cleave in the midst, and perish.

Vol.
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. 11Q0880

Men.
Well said, noble woman.
Before he should thus stoop to the herd^{3 note}, 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.

Cor.
What must I do?

Men.
Return to the tribunes.

Cor.
Well, what then? what then?

Men.
Repent what you have spoke.

Cor.
For them?—I cannot do it to the gods;
Must I then do't to them?

Vol.
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?

Cor.
Tush, tush!

Men.
A good demand.

Vol.
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?

Cor.
Why force you this?

Vol.
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 roted 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 lowts
How you can frown, than spend a fawn upon 'em,
For the inheritance of their loves, and safeguard
Of what that want might ruin.

Men.
Noble lady!—
Come, go with us: speak fair; you may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.

Vol.
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 business
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.

Men.
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.

Vol.
Pr'ythee now,
Go, and be rul'd; although, I know, thou hadst rather
Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf,
Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. Enter Cominius.

Com.
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.

Men.
Only fair speech.

Com.
I think, 'twill serve; if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.

Vol.
He must, and will.—
Pr'ythee now, say you will, and go about it.

Cor.
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 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.

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

Vol.
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.

Cor.
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^{4 note}; 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.

Vol.
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^{5 note}.

Cor.
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 farther.

Vol.
Do your will. [Exit.

Com.
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.

Cor.
The word is, mildly:—pray you, let us go.
Let them accuse me by invention, I

Will answer in mine honour.

Men.
Ay, but mildly.

Cor.
Well, mildly be it then; mildly. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Same. The Forum. Enter Sicinius and Brutus.

Bru.
In this point charge him home; that he affects
Tyrannical power: if he evade us there,
Enforce him with his envy to the people^{6 note};
And that the spoil got on the Antiates
Was ne'er distributed.— Enter an Ædile.
What! will he come?

Æd.
He's coming.

Bru.
How accompanied?

Æd.
With old Menenius, and those senators
That always favour'd him.

Sic.
Have you a catalogue
Of all the voices that we have procur'd,
Set down by the poll?

Æd.
I have; 'tis ready.

Sic.
Have you collected them by tribes?

Æd.
I have.

Sic.
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.

Æd.
I shall inform them.

Bru.
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.

Æd.
Very well.

Sic.
Make them be strong, and ready for this hint,
When we shall hap to give't them.

Bru.
Go; about it.— [Exit Ædile.
Put him to choler straight. He hath been us'd
Ever to conquer, and to have his worth
Of contradiction: 11Q0881 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. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius, Senators, and Patricians.

Sic.
Well, here he comes.

Men.
Calmly, I do beseech you.

Cor.
Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece
Will bear the knave by the volume.—The honour'd gods
Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice
Supplied with worthy men! plant love among us!
Throng our large temples^{7 note} with the shows of peace,
And not our streets with war!

1 Sen.
Amen, amen.

Men.
A noble wish. Re-enter Ædile, with Citizens.

Sic.
Draw near, ye people.

Ædi.
List to your tribunes. Audience: peace! I say.

Cor.
First, hear me speak.

Both Tri.
Well, say.—Peace, ho!

Cor.
Shall I be charg'd no farther than this present?
Must all determine here?

Sic.
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 prov'd upon you?

Cor.
I am content.

Men.
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.

Cor.
Scratches with briars;
Scars to move laughter only.

Men.
Consider farther,
That when he speaks not like a citizen,
You find him like a soldier. Do not take
His rougher accents^{8 note} for malicious sounds,
But, as I say, such as become a soldier,
Rather than envy you.

Com.
Well, well; no more.

Cor.
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?

Sic.
Answer to us.

Cor.
Say then: 'tis true, I ought so.

Sic.
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.

Cor.
How! Traitor?

Men.
Nay, temperately; your promise.

Cor.
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.

Sic.
Mark you this, people?

Cit.
To the rock! to the rock with him!

Sic.
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.

Bru.
But since he hath
Serv'd well for Rome,—

Cor.
What do you prate of service?

Bru.
I talk of that, that know it.

Cor.
You?

Men.
Is this
The promise that you made your mother?

Com.
Know,
I pray you,—

Cor.
I'll know no farther.
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. 11Q0882

Sic.
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.

Cit.
It shall be so, it shall be so: let him away.
He's banish'd, and it shall be so.

Com.
Hear me, my masters, and my common friends;—

Sic.
He's sentenc'd: no more hearing.

Com.
Let me speak.
I have been consul, and can show from Rome^{9 note},
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—

Sic.
We know your drift. Speak what?

Bru.
There's no more to be said; but he is banish'd,
As enemy to the people, and his country.
It shall be so.

Cit.
It shall be so: it shall be so.

Cor.
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 not^{10 note} 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.

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

Cit.
Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! [The People shout, and throw up their caps.

Sic.
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.

Cit.
Come, come; let us see him out at gates: come.—
The gods preserve our noble tribunes!—Come. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. The Same. Before a Gate of the City. Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, and several young Patricians.

Cor.
Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell.—The beast

With many heads butts me away.—Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage? you were us'd
To say, extremity was the trier of spirits^{1 note};
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 11Q0883^{2 note}. You were us'd to load me
With precepts, that would make invincible
The heart that conn'd them.

Vir.
O heavens! O heavens!

Cor.
Nay, I pr'ythee, woman,—

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

Cor.
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-hardening 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.

Vol.
My first son^{3 note},
Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
With thee a while: determine on some course,
More than a wild exposture^{4 note} to each chance,
That starts i' the way before thee.

Cor.
O the gods!

Com.
I'll follow thee a month; devise with thee
Where thou shalt rest, that thou may'st 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.

Cor.
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.

Men.
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.

Cor.
Give me thy hand.—
Come. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Same. A Street near the Gate. Enter Sicinius, Brutus, and an Ædile.

Sic.
Bid them all home: he's gone, and we'll no farther.—
The nobility are vex'd, who, we see, have sided
In his behalf.

Bru.
Now we have shown our power,
Let us seem humbler after it is done,
Than when it was a doing.

Sic.
Bid them home:
Say, their great enemy is gone, and they
Stand in their ancient strength.

Bru.
Dismiss them home. [Exit Ædile. Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.
Here comes his mother.

Sic.
Let's not meet her.

Bru.
Why?

Sic.
They say, she's mad.

Bru.
They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way.

Vol.
O! y'are well met. The hoarded plague o' the gods
Requite your love!

Men.
Peace, peace! be not so loud.

Vol.
If that I could for weeping, you should hear,—
Nay, and you shall hear some.—Will you be gone? [To Brutus.

Vir.
You shall stay too. [To Sicin.] I would, I had the power
To say so to my husband.

Sic.
Are you mankind^{5 note}?

Vol.
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?

Sic.
O blessed heavens!

Vol.
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.

Sic.
What then?

Vir.
What then!
He'd make an end of thy posterity.

Vol.
Bastards, and all.—
Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!

Men.
Come, come: peace!

Sic.
I would he had continu'd to his country,
As he began; and not unknit himself
The noble knot he made.

Bru.
I would he had.

Vol.
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.

Bru.
Pray, let us go.

Vol.
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.

Bru.
Well, well; we'll leave you.

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

Vol.
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.

Men.
You have told them home,
And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me?

Vol.
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.

Men.
Fie, fie, fie! [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Highway between Rome and Antium. Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting.

Rom.

I know you well, sir, and you know me. Your name, I think, is Adrian.

Vol.

It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you.

Rom.

I am a Roman; and my services are, as you are, against 'em. Know you me yet?

Vol.

Nicanor? No.

Rom.

The same, sir.

Vol.

You had more beard, when I last saw you; but your favour is well appeared 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.

Rom.

There hath been in Rome strange insurrection: the people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.

Vol.

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.

Rom.

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.

Vol.

Coriolanus banished?

Rom.

Banished, sir.

Vol.

You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.

Rom.

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.

Vol.

He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my business, and I will merrily accompany you home.

Rom.

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?

Vol.

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.

Rom.

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.

Vol.

You take my part from me, sir: I have the most cause to be glad of yours.

Rom.

Well, let us go together.