Exit

                       Enter CORIOLANUS

  CORIOLANUS. A goodly house. The feast smells well, but I
    Appear not like a guest.

                 Re-enter the first SERVINGMAN

  FIRST SERVANT. What would you have, friend?
    Whence are you? Here's no place for you: pray go to the door.
 Exit
  CORIOLANUS. I have deserv'd no better entertainment
    In being Coriolanus.

                   Re-enter second SERVINGMAN

  SECOND SERVANT. Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his
    head that he gives entrance to such companions? Pray get you out.
  CORIOLANUS. Away!
  SECOND SERVANT. Away? Get you away.
  CORIOLANUS. Now th' art troublesome.
  SECOND SERVANT. Are you so brave? I'll have you talk'd with anon.

          Enter a third SERVINGMAN. The first meets him

  THIRD SERVANT. What fellow's this?
  FIRST SERVANT. A strange one as ever I look'd on. I cannot get him
    out o' th' house. Prithee call my master to him.
  THIRD SERVANT. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you avoid the
    house.
  CORIOLANUS. Let me but stand- I will not hurt your hearth.
  THIRD SERVANT. What are you?
  CORIOLANUS. A gentleman.
  THIRD SERVANT. A marv'llous poor one.
  CORIOLANUS. True, so I am.
  THIRD SERVANT. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other
    station; here's no place for you. Pray you avoid. Come.
  CORIOLANUS. Follow your function, go and batten on cold bits.
                                      [Pushes him away from him]
  THIRD SERVANT. What, you will not? Prithee tell my master what a
    strange guest he has here.
  SECOND SERVANT. And I shall.                              Exit
  THIRD SERVANT. Where dwell'st thou?
  CORIOLANUS. Under the canopy.
  THIRD SERVANT. Under the canopy?
  CORIOLANUS. Ay.
  THIRD SERVANT. Where's that?
  CORIOLANUS. I' th' city of kites and crows.
  THIRD SERVANT. I' th' city of kites and crows!
    What an ass it is! Then thou dwell'st with daws too?
  CORIOLANUS. No, I serve not thy master.
  THIRD SERVANT. How, sir! Do you meddle with my master?
  CORIOLANUS. Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy
    mistress. Thou prat'st and prat'st; serve with thy trencher;
    hence!                                      [Beats him away]

             Enter AUFIDIUS with the second SERVINGMAN

  AUFIDIUS. Where is this fellow?
  SECOND SERVANT. Here, sir; I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for
    disturbing the lords within.
  AUFIDIUS. Whence com'st thou? What wouldst thou? Thy name?
    Why speak'st not? Speak, man. What's thy name?
  CORIOLANUS.  [Unmuffling]  If, Tullus,
    Not yet thou know'st me, and, seeing me, dost not
    Think me for the man I am, necessity
    Commands me name myself.
  AUFIDIUS. What is thy name?
  CORIOLANUS. A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears,
    And harsh in sound to thine.
  AUFIDIUS. Say, what's thy name?
    Thou has a grim appearance, and thy face
    Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn,
    Thou show'st a noble vessel. What's thy name?
  CORIOLANUS. Prepare thy brow to frown- know'st thou me yet?
  AUFIDIUS. I know thee not. Thy name?
  CORIOLANUS. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
    To thee particularly, and to all the Volsces,
    Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
    My surname, Coriolanus. The painful service,
    The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood
    Shed for my thankless country, are requited
    But with that surname- a good memory
    And witness of the malice and displeasure
    Which thou shouldst bear me. Only that name remains;
    The cruelty and envy of the people,
    Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
    Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest,
    An suffer'd me by th' 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' th' world
    I would have 'voided thee; but in mere spite,
    To be full quit of those my banishers,
    Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
    A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
    Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims
    Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight
    And make my misery serve thy turn. So use it
    That my revengeful services may prove
    As benefits to thee; for I will fight
    Against my cank'red country with the spleen
    Of all the under fiends. But if so be
    Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes
    Th'art tir'd, then, in a word, I also am
    Longer to live most weary, and present
    My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;
    Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
    Since I have ever followed thee with hate,
    Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
    And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
    It be to do thee service.
  AUFIDIUS. O Marcius, Marcius!
    Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
    A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
    Should from yond cloud speak divine things,
    And say ''Tis true,' I'd not believe them more
    Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
    Mine arms about that body, where against
    My grained ash an hundred times hath broke
    And scarr'd the moon with splinters; here I clip
    The anvil of my sword, and do contest
    As hotly and as nobly with thy love
    As ever in ambitious strength I did
    Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
    I lov'd the maid I married; never man
    Sigh'd 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 the
    We have a power on foot, and I had purpose
    Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,
    Or lose mine arm for't. Thou hast beat me out
    Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
    Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me-
    We have been down together in my sleep,
    Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat-
    And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
    Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that
    Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
    From twelve to seventy, and, pouring war
    Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
    Like a bold flood o'erbeat. O, come, go in,
    And take our friendly senators by th' hands,
    Who now are here, taking their leaves of me
    Who am prepar'd against your territories,
    Though not for Rome itself.
  CORIOLANUS. You bless me, gods!
  AUFIDIUS. Therefore, most. absolute sir, if thou wilt have
    The leading of thine own revenges, take
    Th' one half of my commission, and set down-
    As best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'st
    Thy country's strength and weakness- thine own ways,
    Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
    Or rudely visit them in parts remote
    To fright them ere destroy. But come in;
    Let me commend thee first to those that shall
    Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
    And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
    Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand; most welcome!
                                  Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS

                    The two SERVINGMEN come forward

  FIRST SERVANT. Here's a strange alteration!
  SECOND SERVANT. By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with
    a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a false report
    of him.
  FIRST SERVANT. What an arm he has! He turn'd me about with his
    finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
  SECOND SERVANT. Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in
    him; he had, sir, a kind of face, methought- I cannot tell how to
    term it.
  FIRST SERVANT. He had so, looking as it were- Would I were hang'd,
    but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
  SECOND SERVANT. So did I, I'll be sworn. He is simply the rarest
    man i' th' world.
  FIRST SERVANT. I think he is; but a greater soldier than he you wot
    on.
  SECOND SERVANT. Who, my master?
  FIRST SERVANT. Nay, it's no matter for that.
  SECOND SERVANT. Worth six on him.
  FIRST SERVANT. Nay, not so neither; but I take him to be the
    greater soldier.
  SECOND SERVANT. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that;
    for the defence of a town our general is excellent.
  FIRST SERVANT. Ay, and for an assault too.

                       Re-enter the third SERVINGMAN

  THIRD SERVANT. O slaves, I can tell you news- news, you rascals!
  BOTH. What, what, what? Let's partake.
  THIRD SERVANT. I would not be a Roman, of all nations;
    I had as lief be a condemn'd man.
  BOTH. Wherefore? wherefore?
  THIRD SERVANT. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general-
    Caius Marcius.
  FIRST SERVANT. Why do you say 'thwack our general'?
  THIRD SERVANT. I do not say 'thwack our general,' but he was always
    good enough for him.
  SECOND SERVANT. Come, we are fellows and friends. He was ever too
    hard for him, I have heard him say so himself.
  FIRST SERVANT. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth
    on't; before Corioli he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a
    carbonado.
  SECOND SERVANT. An he had been cannibally given, he might have
    broil'd and eaten him too.
  FIRST SERVANT. But more of thy news!
  THIRD SERVANT. Why, he is so made on here within as if he were son
    and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' th' 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' th' eye to his discourse.
    But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' th' middle
    and but one half of what he was yesterday, for the other has half
    by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says,
    and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th' ears; he will mow all
    down before him, and leave his passage poll'd.
  SECOND SERVANT. And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.
  THIRD SERVANT. Do't! He will do't; for look you, sir, he has as
    many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it were, durst
    not- look you, sir- show themselves, as we term it, his friends,
    whilst he's in directitude.
  FIRST SERVANT. Directitude? What's that?
  THIRD SERVANT. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again and
    the man in blood, they will out of their burrows, like conies
    after rain, and revel an with him.
  FIRST SERVANT. But when goes this forward?
  THIRD SERVANT. To-morrow, to-day, presently. You shall have the
    drum struck up this afternoon; 'tis as it were parcel of their
    feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.
  SECOND SERVANT. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again.
    This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and
    breed ballad-makers.
  FIRST SERVANT. Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as
    day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.
    Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mull'd, deaf, sleepy,
    insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a
    destroyer of men.
  SECOND SERVANT. 'Tis so; and as war in some sort may be said to be
    a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of
    cuckolds.
  FIRST SERVANT. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
  THIRD SERVANT. Reason: because they then less need one another. The
    wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians.
    They are rising, they are rising.
  BOTH. In, in, in, in!                                   Exeunt




SCENE VI.
Rome. A public place

Enter the two Tribunes, SICINIUS and BRUTUS

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

                          Enter MENENIUS

  BRUTUS. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?
  SICINIUS. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind
    Of late. Hail, sir!
  MENENIUS. Hail to you both!
  SICINIUS. Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd
    But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand,
    And so would do, were he more angry at it.
  MENENIUS. All's well, and might have been much better
    He could have temporiz'd.
  SICINIUS. Where is he, hear you?
  MENENIUS. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife
    Hear nothing from him.

                     Enter three or four citizens

  CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both!
  SICINIUS. God-den, our neighbours.
  BRUTUS. God-den to you all, god-den to you an.
  FIRST CITIZEN. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees
    Are bound to pray for you both.
  SICINIUS. Live and thrive!
  BRUTUS. Farewell, kind neighbours; we wish'd Coriolanus
    Had lov'd you as we did.
  CITIZENS. Now the gods keep you!
  BOTH TRIBUNES. Farewell, farewell.             Exeunt citizens
  SICINIUS. This is a happier and more comely time
    Than when these fellows ran about the streets
    Crying confusion.
  BRUTUS. Caius Marcius was
    A worthy officer i' the war, but insolent,
    O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
    Self-loving-
  SICINIUS. And affecting one sole throne,
    Without assistance.
  MENENIUS. I think not so.
  SICINIUS. We should by this, to all our lamentation,
    If he had gone forth consul, found it so.
  BRUTUS. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome
    Sits safe and still without him.

                             Enter an AEDILE

  AEDILE. Worthy tribunes,
    There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
    Reports the Volsces with several powers
    Are ent'red in the Roman territories,
    And with the deepest malice of the war
    Destroy what lies before 'em.
  MENENIUS. 'Tis Aufidius,
    Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
    Thrusts forth his horns again into the world,
    Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,
    And durst not once peep out.
  SICINIUS. Come, what talk you of Marcius?
  BRUTUS. Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be
    The Volsces dare break with us.
  MENENIUS. Cannot be!
    We have record that very well it can;
    And three examples of the like hath been
    Within my age. But reason with the fellow
    Before you punish him, where he heard this,
    Lest you shall chance to whip your information
    And beat the messenger who bids beware
    Of what is to be dreaded.
  SICINIUS. Tell not me.
    I know this cannot be.
  BRUTUS. Not Possible.

                           Enter A MESSENGER

  MESSENGER. The nobles in great earnestness are going
    All to the Senate House; some news is come
    That turns their countenances.
  SICINIUS. 'Tis this slave-
    Go whip him fore the people's eyes- his raising,
    Nothing but his report.
  MESSENGER. Yes, worthy sir,
    The slave's report is seconded, and more,
    More fearful, is deliver'd.
  SICINIUS. What more fearful?
  MESSENGER. It is spoke freely out of many mouths-
    How probable I do not know- that Marcius,
    Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,
    And vows revenge as spacious as between
    The young'st and oldest thing.
  SICINIUS. This is most likely!
  BRUTUS. Rais'd only that the weaker sort may wish
    Good Marcius home again.
  SICINIUS. The very trick on 't.
  MENENIUS. This is unlikely.
    He and Aufidius can no more atone
    Than violent'st contrariety.

                      Enter a second MESSENGER

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

                            Enter COMINIUS

  COMINIUS. O, you have made good work!
  MENENIUS. What news? what news?
  COMINIUS. You have holp to ravish your own daughters and
    To melt the city leads upon your pates,
    To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses-
  MENENIUS. What's the news? What's the news?
  COMINIUS. Your temples burned in their cement, and
    Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd
    Into an auger's bore.
  MENENIUS. Pray now, your news?
    You have made fair work, I fear me. Pray, your news.
    If Marcius should be join'd wi' th' Volscians-
  COMINIUS. If!
    He is their god; he leads them like a thing
    Made by some other deity than Nature,
    That shapes man better; and they follow him
    Against us brats with no less confidence
    Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
    Or butchers killing flies.
  MENENIUS. You have made good work,
    You and your apron men; you that stood so much
    Upon the voice of occupation and
    The breath of garlic-eaters!
  COMINIUS. He'll shake
    Your Rome about your ears.
  MENENIUS. As Hercules
    Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made fair work!
  BRUTUS. But is this true, sir?
  COMINIUS. Ay; and you'll look pale
    Before you find it other. All the regions
    Do smilingly revolt, and who resists
    Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,
    And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?
    Your enemies and his find something in him.
  MENENIUS. We are all undone unless
    The noble man have mercy.
  COMINIUS. Who shall ask it?
    The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people
    Deserve such pity of him as the wolf
    Does of the shepherds; for his best friends, if they
    Should say 'Be good to Rome'- they charg'd him even
    As those should do that had deserv'd his hate,
    And therein show'd fike enemies.
  MENENIUS. 'Tis true;
    If he were putting to my house the brand
    That should consume it, I have not the face
    To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands,
    You and your crafts! You have crafted fair!
  COMINIUS. You have brought
    A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
    S' incapable of help.
  BOTH TRIBUNES. Say not we brought it.
  MENENIUS. How! Was't we? We lov'd him, but, like beasts
    And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,
    Who did hoot him out o' th' city.
  COMINIUS. But I fear
    They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
    The second name of men, obeys his points
    As if he were his officer. Desperation
    Is all the policy, strength, and defence,
    That Rome can make against them.

                       Enter a troop of citizens

  MENENIUS. Here comes the clusters.
    And is Aufidius with him? You are they
    That made the air unwholesome when you cast
    Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at
    Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming,
    And not a hair upon a soldier's head
    Which will not prove a whip; as many coxcombs
    As you threw caps up will he tumble down,
    And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter;
    If he could burn us all into one coal
    We have deserv'd it.
  PLEBEIANS. Faith, we hear fearful news.
  FIRST CITIZEN. For mine own part,
    When I said banish him, I said 'twas pity.
  SECOND CITIZEN. And so did I.
  THIRD CITIZEN. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very
    many of us. That we did, we did for the best; and though we
    willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our
    will.
  COMINIUS. Y'are goodly things, you voices!
  MENENIUS. You have made
    Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol?
  COMINIUS. O, ay, what else?
                                    Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS
  SICINIUS. Go, masters, get you be not dismay'd;
    These are a side that would be glad to have
    This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,
    And show no sign of fear.
  FIRST CITIZEN. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. I
    ever said we were i' th' wrong when we banish'd him.
  SECOND CITIZEN. So did we all. But come, let's home.
                                                 Exeunt citizens
  BRUTUS. I do not like this news.
  SICINIUS. Nor I.
  BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth
    Would buy this for a lie!
  SICINIUS. Pray let's go.                                Exeunt




SCENE VII.
A camp at a short distance from Rome

Enter AUFIDIUS with his LIEUTENANT

  AUFIDIUS. Do they still fly to th' Roman?
  LIEUTENANT. I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but
    Your soldiers use him as the grace fore meat,
    Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
    And you are dark'ned in this action, sir,
    Even by your own.
  AUFIDIUS. I cannot help it now,
    Unless by using means I lame the foot
    Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,
    Even to my person, than I thought he would
    When first I did embrace him; yet his nature
    In that's no changeling, and I must excuse
    What cannot be amended.
  LIEUTENANT. Yet I wish, sir-
    I mean, for your particular- you had not
    Join'd in commission with him, but either
    Had borne the action of yourself, or else
    To him had left it solely.
  AUFIDIUS. I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
    When he shall come to his account, he knows not
    What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
    And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
    To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly
    And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,
    Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
    As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone
    That which shall break his neck or hazard mine
    Whene'er we come to our account.
  LIEUTENANT. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?
  AUFIDIUS. All places yield to him ere he sits down,
    And the nobility of Rome are his;
    The senators and patricians love him too.
    The tribunes are no soldiers, and their people
    Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty
    To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome
    As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
    By sovereignty of nature. First he was
    A noble servant to them, but he could not
    Carry his honours even. Whether 'twas pride,
    Which out of daily fortune ever taints
    The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
    To fail in the disposing of those chances
    Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
    Not to be other than one thing, not moving
    From th' casque to th' 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 utt'rance. So our virtues
    Lie in th' interpretation of the time;
    And power, unto itself most commendable,
    Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
    T' extol what it hath done.
    One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
    Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.
    Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
    Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.
                                                          Exeunt





ACT V. SCENE I.
Rome. A public place

Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS and BRUTUS, the two Tribunes, with others

  MENENIUS. No, I'll not go. You hear what he hath said
    Which was sometime his general, who lov'd him
    In a most dear particular. He call'd me father;
    But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him:
    A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
    The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coy'd
    To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
  COMINIUS. He would not seem to know me.
  MENENIUS. Do you hear?
  COMINIUS. Yet one time he did call me by my name.
    I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops
    That we have bled together. 'Coriolanus'
    He would not answer to; forbid all names;
    He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
    Till he had forg'd himself a name i' th' fire
    Of burning Rome.
  MENENIUS. Why, so! You have made good work.
    A pair of tribunes that have wrack'd for Rome
    To make coals cheap- a noble memory!
  COMINIUS. I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon
    When it was less expected; he replied,
    It was a bare petition of a state
    To one whom they had punish'd.
  MENENIUS. Very well.
    Could he say less?
  COMINIUS. I offer'd to awaken his regard
    For's private friends; his answer to me was,
    He could not stay to pick them in a pile
    Of noisome musty chaff. He said 'twas folly,
    For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt
    And still to nose th' offence.
  MENENIUS. For one poor grain or two!
    I am one of those. His mother, wife, his child,
    And this brave fellow too- we are the grains:
    You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt
    Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.
  SICINIUS. Nay, pray be patient; if you refuse your aid
    In this so never-needed help, yet do not
    Upbraid's with our distress. But sure, if you
    Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
    More than the instant army we can make,
    Might stop our countryman.
  MENENIUS. No; I'll not meddle.
  SICINIUS. Pray you go to him.
  MENENIUS. What should I do?
  BRUTUS. Only make trial what your love can do
    For Rome, towards Marcius.
  MENENIUS. Well, and say that Marcius
    Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
    Unheard- what then?
    But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
    With his unkindness? Say't be so?
  SICINIUS. Yet your good will
    Must have that thanks from Rome after the measure
    As you intended well.
  MENENIUS. I'll undertake't;
    I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip
    And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me.
    He was not taken well: he had not din'd;
    The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
    We pout upon the morning, are unapt
    To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
    These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
    With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
    Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll watch him
    Till he be dieted to my request,
    And then I'll set upon him.
  BRUTUS. You know the very road into his kindness
    And cannot lose your way.
  MENENIUS. Good faith, I'll prove him,
    Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
    Of my success.                                          Exit
  COMINIUS. He'll never hear him.
  SICINIUS. Not?
  COMINIUS. I tell you he does sit in gold, his eye
    Red as 'twould burn Rome, and his injury
    The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
    'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise'; 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 conditions;
    So that all hope is vain,
    Unless his noble mother and his wife,
    Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
    For mercy to his country. Therefore let's hence,
    And with our fair entreaties haste them on.           Exeunt




SCENE II.
The Volscian camp before Rome

Enter MENENIUS to the WATCH on guard

  FIRST WATCH. Stay. Whence are you?
  SECOND WATCH. Stand, and go back.
  MENENIUS. You guard like men, 'tis well; but, by your leave,
    I am an officer of state and come
    To speak with Coriolanus.
  FIRST WATCH. From whence?
  MENENIUS. From Rome.
  FIRST WATCH. YOU may not pass; you must return. Our general
    Will no more hear from thence.
  SECOND WATCH. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire before
    You'll speak with Coriolanus.
  MENENIUS. Good my friends,
    If you have heard your general talk of Rome
    And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks
    My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.
  FIRST WATCH. Be it so; go back. The virtue of your name
    Is not here passable.
  MENENIUS. I tell thee, fellow,
    Thy general is my lover. I have been
    The book of his good acts whence men have read
    His fame unparallel'd haply amplified;
    For I have ever verified my friends-
    Of whom he's chief- with all the size that verity
    Would without lapsing suffer. Nay, sometimes,
    Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,
    I have tumbled past the throw, and in his praise
    Have almost stamp'd the leasing; therefore, fellow,
    I must have leave to pass.
  FIRST WATCH. Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalf
    as you have uttered words in your own, you should not pass here;
    no, though it were as virtuous to lie as to live chastely.
    Therefore go back.
  MENENIUS. Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always
    factionary on the party of your general.
  SECOND WATCH. Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you
    have, I am one that, telling true under him, must say you cannot
    pass. Therefore go back.
  MENENIUS. Has he din'd, canst thou tell? For I would not speak with
    him till after dinner.
  FIRST WATCH. You are a Roman, are you?
  MENENIUS. I am as thy general is.
  FIRST WATCH. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, when
    you have push'd out your gates the very defender of them, and in
    a violent popular ignorance given your enemy your shield, think
    to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the
    virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied
    intercession of such a decay'd dotant as you seem to be? Can you
    think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready to flame
    in with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd; therefore
    back to Rome and prepare for your execution. You are condemn'd;
    our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.
  MENENIUS. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me
    with estimation.
  FIRST WATCH. Come, my captain knows you not.
  MENENIUS. I mean thy general.
  FIRST WATCH. My general cares not for you. Back, I say; go, lest I
    let forth your half pint of blood. Back- that's the utmost of
    your having. Back.
  MENENIUS. Nay, but fellow, fellow-

                      Enter CORIOLANUS with AUFIDIUS

  CORIOLANUS. What's the matter?
  MENENIUS. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; you shall
    know now that I am in estimation; you shall perceive that a Jack
    guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus. Guess but by my
    entertainment with him if thou stand'st not i' th' state of
    hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship and crueller
    in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come
    upon thee. The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy
    particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father
    Menenius does! O my son! my son! thou art preparing fire for us;
    look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come
    to thee; but being assured none but myself could move thee, I
    have been blown out of your gates with sighs, and conjure thee to
    pardon Rome and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage
    thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here; this,
    who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.
  CORIOLANUS. Away!
  MENENIUS. How! away!
  CORIOLANUS. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs
    Are servanted to others. Though I owe
    My revenge properly, my remission lies
    In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,
    Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison rather
    Than pity note how much. Therefore be gone.
    Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
    Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,
    Take this along; I writ it for thy sake     [Gives a letter]
    And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius,
    I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,
    Was my belov'd in Rome; yet thou behold'st.
  AUFIDIUS. You keep a constant temper.
                                  Exeunt CORIOLANUS and Aufidius
  FIRST WATCH. Now, sir, is your name Menenius?
  SECOND WATCH. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power! You know the
    way home again.
  FIRST WATCH. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your
    greatness back?
  SECOND WATCH. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?
  MENENIUS. I neither care for th' world nor your general; for such
    things as you, I can scarce think there's any, y'are so slight.
    He that hath a will to die by himself fears it not from another.
    Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are, long;
    and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as I was
    said to: Away!                                          Exit
  FIRST WATCH. A noble fellow, I warrant him.
  SECOND WATCH. The worthy fellow is our general; he's the rock, the
    oak not to be wind-shaken.                            Exeunt




SCENE III.
The tent of CORIOLANUS

Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others

  CORIOLANUS. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow
    Set down our host. My partner in this action,
    You must report to th' Volscian lords how plainly
    I have borne this business.
  AUFIDIUS. Only their ends
    You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
    The general suit of Rome; never admitted
    A private whisper- no, not with such friends
    That thought them sure of you.
  CORIOLANUS. This last old man,
    Whom with crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
    Lov'd me above the measure of a father;
    Nay, godded me indeed. Their latest refuge
    Was to send him; for whose old love I have-
    Though I show'd sourly to him- once more offer'd
    The first conditions, which they did refuse
    And cannot now accept. To grace him only,
    That thought he could do more, a very little
    I have yielded to; fresh embassies and suits,
    Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
    Will I lend ear to.  [Shout within]  Ha! what shout is this?
    Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
    In the same time 'tis made? I will not.

       Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, VALERIA,
                   YOUNG MARCIUS, with attendants

    My wife comes foremost, then the honour'd mould
    Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand
    The grandchild to her blood. But out, affection!
    All bond and privilege of nature, break!
    Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.
    What is that curtsy worth? or those doves' eyes,
    Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
    Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows,
    As if Olympus to a molehill should
    In supplication nod; and my young boy
    Hath an aspect of intercession which
    Great nature cries 'Deny not.' Let the Volsces
    Plough Rome and harrow Italy; I'll never
    Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand
    As if a man were author of himself
    And knew no other kin.
  VIRGILIA. My lord and husband!
  CORIOLANUS. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
  VIRGILIA. The sorrow that delivers us thus chang'd
    Makes you think so.
  CORIOLANUS. Like a dull actor now
    I have forgot my part and I am out,
    Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
    Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,
    For that, 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss
    Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
    Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
    I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip
    Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,
    And the most noble mother of the world
    Leave unsaluted. Sink, my knee, i' th' earth;       [Kneels]
    Of thy deep duty more impression show
    Than that of common sons.
  VOLUMNIA. O, stand up blest!
    Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint
    I kneel before thee, and unproperly
    Show duty, as mistaken all this while
    Between the child and parent.                       [Kneels]
  CORIOLANUS. What's this?
    Your knees to me, to your corrected son?
    Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
    Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
    Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun,
    Murd'ring impossibility, to make
    What cannot be slight work.
  VOLUMNIA. Thou art my warrior;
    I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
  CORIOLANUS. The noble sister of Publicola,
    The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle
    That's curdied by the frost from purest snow,
    And hangs on Dian's temple- dear Valeria!
  VOLUMNIA. This is a poor epitome of yours,
    Which by th' interpretation of full time
    May show like all yourself.
  CORIOLANUS. The god of soldiers,
    With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
    Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst prove
    To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars
    Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
    And saving those that eye thee!
  VOLUMNIA. Your knee, sirrah.
  CORIOLANUS. That's my brave boy.
  VOLUMNIA. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
    Are suitors to you.
  CORIOLANUS. I beseech you, peace!
    Or, if you'd ask, remember this before:
    The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
    Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
    Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
    Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not
    Wherein I seem unnatural; desire not
    T'allay my rages and revenges with
    Your colder reasons.
  VOLUMNIA. 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 request, the blame
    May hang upon your hardness; therefore hear us.
  CORIOLANUS. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll
    Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?
  VOLUMNIA. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
    And state of bodies would bewray what life
    We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
    How more unfortunate than all living women
    Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which should
    Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
    Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow,
    Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
    The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
    His country's bowels out. And to poor we
    Thine enmity's most capital: thou bar'st us
    Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
    That all but we enjoy. For how can we,
    Alas, how can we for our country pray,
    Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
    Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose
    The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
    Our comfort in the country. We must find
    An evident calamity, though we had
    Our wish, which side should win; for either thou
    Must as a foreign recreant be led
    With manacles through our streets, or else
    Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
    And bear the palm for having bravely shed
    Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
    I purpose not to wait on fortune till
    These wars determine; if I can not persuade thee
    Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
    Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
    March to assault thy country than to tread-
    Trust to't, thou shalt not- on thy mother's womb
    That brought thee to this world.
  VIRGILIA. Ay, and mine,
    That brought you forth this boy to keep your name
    Living to time.
  BOY. 'A shall not tread on me!
    I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
  CORIOLANUS. Not of a woman's tenderness to be
    Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
    I have sat too long.                                [Rising]
  VOLUMNIA. Nay, go not from us thus.
    If it were so that our request did tend
    To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
    The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us
    As poisonous of your honour. No, our suit
    Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
    May say 'This mercy we have show'd,' the Romans
    'This we receiv'd,' and each in either side
    Give the all-hail to thee, and cry 'Be blest
    For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,
    The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,
    That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
    Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
    Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
    Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
    But with his last attempt he wip'd it out,
    Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
    To th' ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son.
    Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
    To imitate the graces of the gods,
    To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
    And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
    That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
    Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
    Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
    He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy;
    Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
    Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
    More bound to's mother, yet here he lets me prate
    Like one i' th' stocks. Thou