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
-- 222 --
With many heads butts me away.—Nay, mother,
Where is your ancient courage? you were us'd
To say, extremity was the trier of spirits1 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 11Q08832 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
-- 223 --
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 son3 note,
Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
With thee a while: determine on some course,
More than a wild exposture4 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.
-- 224 --
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.
-- 225 --
Sic.
Are you mankind5 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,
-- 226 --
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
-- 227 --
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.
-- 228 --
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.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Antium. Before Aufidius's House.
Enter Coriolanus, in mean Apparel, disguised and muffled.
Cor.
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,
Enter a Citizen.
In puny battle slay me.—Save you, sir.
Cit.
And you.
Cor.
Direct me, if it be your will,
Where great Aufidius lies. Is he in Antium?
Cit.
He is, and feasts the nobles of the state,
At his house this night.
Cor.
Which is his house, beseech you?
Cit.
This, here before you.
Cor.
Thank you, sir. Farewell.
[Exit Citizen.
O, world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, 11Q0884
Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love
Unseparable, shall within this hour,
-- 229 --
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 birth-place hate I6 note, 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.
The Same. A Hall in Aufidius's House.
Music within. Enter a Servant.
1 Serv.
Wine, wine, wine! What service is here!
I think our fellows are asleep.
[Exit.
Enter a second Servant.
2 Serv.
Where's Cotus? my master calls for him.—
Cotus!
[Exit.
Enter Coriolanus.
Cor.
A goodly house. The feast smells well; but I
Appear not like a guest.
Re-enter the first Servant.
1 Serv.
What would you have, friend? Whence
are you? Here's no place for you: pray, go to the
door.
-- 230 --
Cor.
I have deserv'd no better entertainment,
In being Coriolanus.
Re-enter second Servant.
2 Serv.
Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his
eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such companions7 note?
Pray, get you out.
Cor.
Away!
2 Serv.
Away? Get you away.
Cor.
Now, th'art troublesome.
2 Serv.
Are you so brave? I'll have you talked
with anon.
Enter a third Servant. The first meets him.
3 Serv.
What fellow's this?
1 Serv.
A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot
get him out o' the house. Pr'ythee, call my master to
him.
3 Serv.
What have you to do here, fellow? Pray
you, avoid the house.
Cor.
Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.
3 Serv.
What are you?
Cor.
A gentleman.
3 Serv.
A marvellous poor one.
Cor.
True, so I am.
3 Serv.
Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some
other station; here's no place for you. Pray you,
avoid: come.
Cor.
Follow your function; go,
And batten on cold bits.
[Pushes him away.
3 Serv.
What, will you not? Pr'ythee, tell my
master what a strange guest he has here.
2 Serv.
And I shall.
[Exit.
-- 231 --
3 Serv.
Where dwell'st thou?
Cor.
Under the canopy.
3 Serv.
Under the canopy?
Cor.
Ay.
3 Serv.
Where's that?
Cor.
I' the city of kites and crows.
3 Serv.
I' the city of kites and crows?—What an
ass it is!—Then, thou dwellest with daws too?
Cor.
No; I serve not thy master.
3 Serv.
How, sir! Do you meddle with my master?
Cor.
Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle
with thy mistress.
Thou prat'st, and prat'st: serve with thy trencher.
Hence!
[Beats him away.
Enter Aufidius and the second Servant.
Auf.
Where is this fellow?
2 Serv.
Here, sir. I'd have beaten him like a dog,
but for disturbing the lords within.
Auf.
Whence com'st thou? what would'st thou? Thy name?
Why speak'st not? Speak, man: what's thy name?
Cor.
If, Tullus,
[Unmuffling.
Not yet thou know'st me, and seeing me, dost not
Think me for the man I am, necessity
Commands me name myself.
Auf.
What is thy name?
[Servants retire.
Cor.
A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears,
And harsh in sound to thine.
Auf.
Say, what's thy name?
Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face
Bears a command in't: though thy tackle's torn,
Thou show'st a noble vessel. What's thy name?
Cor.
Prepare thy brow to frown. Know'st thou me yet?
-- 232 --
Auf.
I know thee not.—Thy name?
Cor.
My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
To thee particularly, and to all the Volsces,
Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
My surname, Coriolanus. The painful service,
The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood
Shed for my thankless country, are requited
But with that surname; a good memory,
And witness of the malice and displeasure
Which thou should'st bear me. Only that name remains:
The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
And suffered me by the voice of slaves to be
Whoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth: not out of hope,
Mistake me not, to save my life; for if
I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world
I would have 'voided thee; but in mere spite,
To be full quit of those my banishers,
Stand I before thee here. Then, if thou hast
A heart of wreak in thee8 note, that will revenge
Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those maims
Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight,
And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it,
That my revengeful services may prove
As benefits to thee; for I will fight
Against my canker'd country with the spleen
Of all the under fiends. But if so be
Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes
Thou art tir'd; then, in a word, I also am
Longer to live most weary, and present
My throat to thee, and to thy ancient malice:
-- 233 --
Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
It be to do thee service.
Auf.
O Marcius, Marcius!
Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
Should from yond' cloud speak divine things,
And say, “'Tis true;” I'd not believe them more
Than thee, all noble Marcius.—Let me twine
Mine arms about that body, where against
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke,
And scarr'd the moon with splinters9 note! Here I clip1 note
The anvil of my sword; and do contest
As hotly and as nobly with thy love,
As ever in ambitious strength I did
Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
I lov'd the maid I married: never man
Sighed truer breath; but that I see thee here,
Thou noble thing, more dances my rapt heart,
Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars, I tell thee,
We have a power on foot; and I had purpose
Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,
Or lose mine arm for't. Thou hast beat me out
Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me:
We have been down together in my sleep,
Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
-- 234 --
Had we no other quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy; and, pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold flood o'er-bear2 note. O! come; go in,
And take our friendly senators by the hands,
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd against your territories,
Though not for Rome itself.
Cor.
You bless me, gods!
Auf.
Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have
The leading of thine own revenges, take
Th' one half of my commission; and set down,—
As best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'st
Thy country's strength and weakness,—thine own ways;
Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
Or rudely visit them in parts remote,
To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:
Let me commend thee first to those, that shall
Say, “yea,” to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome!
[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius.
1 Serv. [Advancing.]
Here's a strange alteration!
2 Serv.
By my hand, I had thought to have strucken
him with a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me, his
clothes made a false report of him.
1 Serv.
What an arm he has! He turned me about
with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a
top.
2 Serv.
Nay, I knew by his face that there was
-- 235 --
something in him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,
—I cannot tell how to term it.
1 Serv.
He had so; looking as it were,—Would I
were hanged, but I thought there was more in him
than I could think.
2 Serv.
So did I, I'll be sworn. He is simply the
rarest man i' the world.
1 Serv.
I think, he is; but a greater soldier than he,
you wot one.
2 Serv.
Who? my master?
1 Serv.
Nay, it's no matter for that.
2 Serv.
Worth six on him.
1 Serv.
Nay, not so neither; but I take him to be
the greater soldier.
2 Serv.
'Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say
that: for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.
1 Serv.
Ay, and for an assault too.
Re-enter third Servant.
3 Serv.
O, slaves! I can tell you news; news, you
rascals.
1. 2. Serv.
What, what, what? let's partake.
3 Serv.
I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I
had as lieve be a condemned man.
1. 2. Serv.
Wherefore? wherefore?
3 Serv.
Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our
general,—Caius Marcius.
1 Serv.
Why do you say thwack our general?
3 Serv.
I do not say, thwack our general; but he
was always good enough for him.
2 Serv.
Come, we are fellows, and friends: he was
ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.
1 Serv.
He was too hard for him directly, to say the
truth on't: before Corioli, he scotched him and notched
him like a carbonado.
-- 236 --
2 Serv.
An he had been cannibally given, he might
have broiled and eaten him too3 note.
1 Serv.
But, more of thy news?
3 Serv.
Why, he is so made on here within, as if he
were son and heir to Mars: set at upper end o' the
table; no question asked him by any of the senators,
but they stand bald before him. Our general himself
makes a mistress of him; sanctifies himself with's hand,
and turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But
the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' the
middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday, for
the other has half, by the entreaty and grant of the
whole table. He'll go, he says, and sowle the porter of
Rome gates by the ears4 note
. He will mow down all
before him, and leave his passage polled5 note.
2 Serv.
And he's as like to do't, as any man I can
imagine.
3 Serv.
Do't! he will do't; for, (look you, sir,) he
has as many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, (as
it were,) durst not (look you, sir,) show themselves (as
we term it) his friends, whilst he's in directitude. 11Q0885
1 Serv.
Directitude! what's that?
3 Serv.
But when they shall see, sir, his crest up
again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burrows,
like conies after rain, and revel all with him.
1 Serv.
But when goes this forward?
3 Serv.
To-morrow; to-day; presently. You shall
have the drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were,
-- 237 --
a parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe
their lips.
2 Serv.
Why, then we shall have a stirring world
again. This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase
tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
1 Serv.
Let me have war, say I: it exceeds peace, as
far as day does night; it's spritely, waking6 note, audible,
and full of vent. 11Q0886 Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy;
mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard
children, than wars a destroyer of men.
2 Serv.
'Tis so: and as wars, in some sort, may be
said to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied, but peace
is a great maker of cuckolds.
1 Serv.
Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
3 Serv.
Reason; because they then less need one
another. The wars, for my money. I hope to see
Romans as cheap as Volscians.—They are rising, they
are rising.
All.
In, in, in, in.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Rome. A Public Place.
Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Sic.
We hear not of him, neither need we fear him;
His remedies are tame i' the present peace7 note
And quietness o' the people, which before
Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends
-- 238 --
Blush that the world goes well; who rather had,
Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold
Dissensious numbers pestering streets, than see
Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going
About their functions friendly.
Enter Menenius.
Bru.
We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?
Sic.
'Tis he, 'tis he. O! he is grown most kind
Of late.—Hail, sir!
Men.
Hail to you both!
Sic.
Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd,
But with his friends: the common-wealth doth stand,
And so would do, were he more angry at it.
Men.
All's well; and might have been much better, if
He could have temporiz'd.
Sic.
Where is he, hear you?
Men.
Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife
Hear nothing from him.
Enter three or four Citizens.
Cit.
The gods preserve you both!
Sic.
Good-den, our neighbours.
Bru.
Good-den to you all, good-den to you all.
1 Cit.
Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees,
Are bound to pray for you both.
Sic.
Live, and thrive!
Bru.
Farewell, kind neighbours. We wish'd Coriolanus
Had lov'd you as we did.
Cit.
Now the gods keep you!
Both Tri.
Farewell, farewell.
[Exeunt Citizens.
Sic.
This is a happier and more comely time,
-- 239 --
Than when these fellows ran about the streets,
Crying confusion.
Bru.
Caius Marcius was
A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,
O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
Self-loving,—
Sic.
And affecting one sole throne,
Without assistance.
Men.
I think not so.
Sic.
We should by this, to all our lamentation,
If he had gone forth consul, found it so.
Bru.
The gods have well prevented it; and Rome
Sits safe and still without him.
Enter an Ædile.
Æd.
Worthy tribunes,
There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
Reports, the Volsces with two several powers
Are enter'd in the Roman territories;
And with the deepest malice of the war
Destroy what lies before them.
Men.
'Tis Aufidius,
Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;
Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,
And durst not once peep out.
Sic.
Come, what talk you
Of Marcius?
Bru.
Go see this rumourer whipp'd.—It cannot be;
The Volsces dare break with us.
Men.
Cannot be!
We have record that very well it can;
And three examples of the like have been
Within my age. But reason with the fellow,
Before you punish him, where he heard this;
Lest you shall chance to whip your information,
And beat the messenger who bids beware
-- 240 --
Of what is to be dreaded.
Sic.
Tell not me:
I know, this cannot be.
Bru.
Not possible.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
The nobles in great earnestness are going
All to the senate house: some news is come in8 note,
That turns their countenances.
Sic.
'Tis this slave.
Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes:—his raising!
Nothing but his report!
Mess.
Yes, worthy sir,
The slave's report is seconded; and more,
More fearful, is deliver'd.
Sic.
What more fearful?
Mess.
It is spoke freely out of many mouths,
How probable I do not know, that Marcius,
Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,
And vows revenge as spacious, as between
The young'st and oldest thing.
Sic.
This is most likely!
Bru.
Rais'd only, that the weaker sort may wish
Good Marcius home again. 11Q0887
Sic.
The very trick on't.
Men.
This is unlikely:
He and Aufidius can no more atone9 note,
Than violentest contrariety.
Enter another Messenger.
Mess.
You are sent for to the senate.
A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius,
Associated with Aufidius, rages
-- 241 --
Upon our territories; and have already
O'erborne their way, consum'd with fire, and took
What lay before them.
Enter Cominius.
Com.
O! you have made good work.
Men.
What news? what news?
Com.
You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and
To melt the city leads upon your pates;
To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses;—
Men.
What's the news? what's the news?
Com.
Your temples burned in their cement; and
Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd
Into an auger's bore.
Men.
Pray now, your news?—
You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news?
If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,—
Com.
If!
He is their god: he leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better; and they follow him
Against us brats, with no less confidence
Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
Or butchers killing flies.
Men.
You have made good work,
You, and your apron-men; you that stood so much
Upon the voice of occupation, and
The breath of garlic-eaters!
Com.
He will shake
Your Rome about your ears.
Men.
As Hercules
Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made fair work.
Bru.
But is this true, sir?
Com.
Ay; and you'll look pale
-- 242 --
Before you find it other. All the regions
Do smilingly revolt, and who resist
Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,
And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?
Your enemies, and his, find something in him.
Men.
We are all undone, unless
The noble man have mercy.
Com.
Who shall ask it?
The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people
Deserve such pity of him, as the wolf
Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they
Should say, “Be good to Rome,” they charg'd him, even
As those should do that had deserv'd his hate,
And therein show'd like enemies.
Men.
'Tis true.
If he were putting to my house the brand
That should consume it, I have not the face
To say, “Beseech you, cease.”—You have made fair hands,
You, and your crafts; you have crafted fair. 11Q0888
Com.
You have brought
A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
So incapable of help.
Tri.
Say not, we brought it.
Men.
How! Was it we? We lov'd him; but, like beasts
And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,
Who did hoot him out o' the city.
Com.
But I fear
They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
The second name of men, obeys his points
As if he were his officer. Desperation
Is all the policy, strength, and defence,
That Rome can make against them.
-- 243 --
Enter a Troop of Citizens.
Men.
Here come the clusters.—
And is Aufidius with him?—You are they
That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at
Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming;
And not a hair upon a soldier's head,
Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs,
As you threw caps up, will he tumble down,
And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter:
If he could burn us all into one coal,
We have deserv'd it.
Cit.
'Faith, we hear fearful news.
1 Cit.
For mine own part,
When I said, banish him, I said, 'twas pity.
2 Cit.
And so did I.
3 Cit.
And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did
very many of us. That we did, we did for the best;
and though we willingly consented to his banishment,
yet it was against our will.
Com.
Y' are goodly things, you voices!
Men.
You have made
Good work, you and your cry!—Shall's to the Capitol?
Com.
O! ay, what else?
[Exeunt Com. and Men.
Sic.
Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd:
These are a side, that would be glad to have
This true, which they so seem to fear. Go home,
And show no sign of fear.
1 Cit.
The gods be good to us! Come, masters,
let's home. I ever said, we were i' the wrong, when
we banished him.
2 Cit.
So did we all. But come, let's home.
[Exeunt Citizens.
Bru.
I do not like this news.
Sic.
Nor I.
-- 244 --
Bru.
Let's to the Capitol.—Would half my wealth
Would buy this for a lie!
Sic.
Pray, let us go.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
A Camp; at a small distance from Rome.
Enter Aufidius, and his Lieutenant.
Auf.
Do they still fly to the Roman?
Lieu.
I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but
Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
And you are darken'd in this action, sir,
Even by your own.
Auf.
I cannot help it now,
Unless, by using means, I lame the foot
Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,
Even to my person, than I thought he would
When first I did embrace him; yet his nature
In that's no changeling, and I must excuse
What cannot be amended.
Lieu.
Yet I wish, sir,
(I mean, for your particular) you had not
Join'd in commission with him; but either
Had borne the action of yourself, or else
To him had left it solely.
Auf.
I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
When he shall come to his account, he knows not
What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly,
And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,
Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone
-- 245 --
That, which shall break his neck, or hazard mine,
Whene'er we come to our account.
Lieu.
Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?
Auf.
All places yield to him ere he sits down;
And the nobility of Rome are his:
The senators, and patricians, love him too.
The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty
To expel him thence. I think, he'll be to Rome,
As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
By sovereignty of nature1 note
. First he was
A noble servant to them, but he could not
Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride,
Which out of daily fortune ever taints
The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
To fail in the disposing of those chances
Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
Not to be other than one thing, not moving
From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace,
Even with the same austerity and garb
As he controll'd the war; but one of these
(As he hath spices of them all, not all,
For I dare so far free him) made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit,
To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
Lie in the interpretation of the time,
And power, unto itself most commendable,
Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
To extol what it hath done.
One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do fail. 11Q0889
-- 246 --
Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'st of all; then, shortly art thou mine.
[Exeunt.
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
