Cornets. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, all the Gentry, Cominius, Titus Lartius, and other Senators
Coriolanus Tullus Aufidius then had made new head?
Lartius He had, my lord; and that it was which caused
Our swifter composition.
Coriolanus So then the Volsces stand but as at first,
Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road.
Cominius They are worn, lord consul, so,
That we shall hardly in our ages see
Their banners wave again.
Coriolanus Saw you Aufidius?
Lartius On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse
Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely
Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium.
Coriolanus Spoke he of me?
Lartius He did, my lord.
Coriolanus How? what?
Lartius 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.
Coriolanus At Antium lives he?
Lartius At Antium.
Coriolanus I wish I had a cause to seek him there,
To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.
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.
Sicinius Pass no further.
Coriolanus Ha! what is that?
Brutus It will be dangerous to go on: no further.
Coriolanus What makes this change?
Menenius The matter?
Cominius Hath he not pass’d the noble and the common?
Brutus Cominius, no.
Coriolanus Have I had children’s voices?
First Senator Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place.
Brutus The people are incensed against him.
Or all will fall in broil.
Coriolanus 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?
Menenius Be calm, be calm.
Coriolanus It is a purposed 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 ruled.
Brutus Call’t not a plot:
The people cry you mock’d them, and of late,
When corn was given them gratis, you repined;
Scandal’d the suppliants for the people, call’d them
Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.
Coriolanus Why, this was known before.
Brutus Not to them all.
Coriolanus Have you inform’d them sithence?
Brutus How! I inform them!
Coriolanus You are like to do such business.
Brutus Not unlike,
Each way, to better yours.
Coriolanus Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,
Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
Your fellow tribune.
Sicinius 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.
Menenius Let’s be calm.
Cominius The people are abused; set on. This paltering
Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus
Deserved this so dishonour’d rub, laid falsely
I’ the plain way of his merit.
Coriolanus Tell me of corn!
This was my speech, and I will speak’t again —
Menenius Not now, not now.
First Senator Not in this heat, sir, now.
Coriolanus Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends,
I crave their pardons:
For the mutable, rank-scented many, 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.
Menenius Well, no more.
First Senator No more words, we beseech you.
Coriolanus How! no more!
As for my country I have shed my blood,
Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs
Coin words till their decay against those measles,
Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought
The very way to catch them.
Brutus You speak o’ the people,
As if you were a god to punish, not
A man of their infirmity.
Sicinius ’Twere well
We let the people know’t.
Menenius What, what? his choler?
Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,
By Jove, ’twould be my mind!
Sicinius It is a mind
That shall remain a poison where it is,
Not poison any further.
Coriolanus Shall remain!
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you
His absolute ‘shall’?
Cominius ’Twas from the canon.
O good but most unwise patricians! 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 monster’s, 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; if none, awake
Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn’d,
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 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.
Cominius Well, on to the market-place.
Coriolanus Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth
The corn o’ the storehouse gratis, as ’twas used
Sometime in Greece —
Menenius Well, well, no more of that.
Coriolanus Though there the people had more absolute power,
I say, they nourish’d disobedience, fed
The ruin of the state.
Brutus Why, shall the people give
One that speaks thus their voice?
Coriolanus I’ll give my reasons,
More worthier than their voices. They know the corn
Was not our recompense, resting well assured
That 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: the accusation
Which they have often made against the senate,
All cause unborn, could never be the motive
Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
How shall this bisson multitude digest
The senate’s courtesy? 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.
Menenius Come, enough.
Brutus Enough, with over-measure.
Coriolanus No, take more:
What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
Seal what I end withal! This double worship,
Where one part 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
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’t,
Not having the power to do the good it would,
For the in which doth control’t.
Brutus Has said enough.
Sicinius Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer
As traitors do.
Coriolanus 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.
Brutus Manifest treason!
Sicinius This a consul? no.
Brutus The aediles, ho!
Enter an Aedile
Let him be apprehended.
Sicinius Go, call the people:
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.
Coriolanus Hence, old goat!
Senators, & C We’ll surety him.
Cominius Aged sir, hands off.
Coriolanus Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones
Out of thy garments.
Sicinius Help, ye citizens!
Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the Aediles
Menenius On both sides more respect.
Sicinius Here’s he that would take from you all your power.
Brutus Seize him, Aediles!
Citizens Down with him! down with him!
Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons!
They all bustle about Coriolanus, crying
‘Tribunes!’ ‘Patricians!’ ‘Citizens!’ ‘What, ho!’
‘Sicinius!’ ‘Brutus!’ ‘Coriolanus!’ ‘Citizens!’
‘Peace, peace, peace!’ ‘stay, hold, peace!’
Menenius 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.
Sicinius Hear me, people; peace!
Citizens Let’s hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.
Sicinius You are at point to lose your liberties:
Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,
Whom late you have named for consul.
Menenius Fie, fie, fie!
This is the way to kindle, not to quench.
First Senator To unbuild the city and to lay all flat.
Sicinius What is the city but the people?
The people are the city.
Brutus By the consent of all, we were establish’d
The people’s magistrates.
Citizens You so remain.
Menenius And so are like to do.
Cominius 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.
Sicinius This deserves death.
Brutus 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.
Sicinius Therefore lay hold of him;
Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
Into destruction cast him.
Brutus Aediles, seize him!
Citizens Yield, Marcius, yield!
Menenius Hear me one word;
Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.
Aedile Peace, peace!
Menenius [To Brutus] Be that you seem, truly your country’s friend,
And temperately proceed to what you would
Thus violently redress.
Brutus 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.
Coriolanus 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.
Menenius Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile.
Brutus Lay hands upon him.
Cominius Help Marcius, help,
You that be noble; help him, young and old!
Citizens Down with him, down with him!
In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Aediles, and the People, are beat in
Menenius Go, get you to your house; be gone, away!
All will be naught else.
Second Senator Get you gone.
Cominius Stand fast;
We have as many friends as enemies.
Menenius Sham it be put to that?
First Senator The gods forbid!
I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;
Leave us to cure this cause.
Menenius For ’tis a sore upon us,
You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you.
Cominius Come, sir, along with us.
Coriolanus I would they were barbarians — as they are,
Though in Rome litter’d — not Romans — as they are not,
Though calved i’ the porch o’ the Capitol —
Menenius Be gone;
Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
One time will owe another.
Coriolanus On fair ground
I could beat forty of them.
Cominius I could myself
Take up a brace o’ the best of them; yea, the two tribunes:
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.
Menenius 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.
Cominius Nay, come away.
Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others
A Patrician This man has marr’d his fortune.
Menenius 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!
Second Patrician I would they were abed!
Menenius I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!
Could he not speak ’em fair?
Re-enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble
Sicinius Where is this viper
That would depopulate the city and
Be every man himself?
Menenius You worthy tribunes —
Sicinius He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
Than the severity of the public power
Which he so sets at nought.
First Citizen He shall well know
The noble tribunes are the people’s mouths,
And we their hands.
Citizens He shall, sure on’t.
Menenius Sir, sir —
Menenius Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt
With modest warrant.
Sicinius Sir, how comes’t that you
Have holp to make this rescue?
Menenius Hear me speak:
As I do know the consul’s worthiness,
So can I name his faults —
Sicinius Consul! what consul?
Menenius The consul Coriolanus.
Brutus He consul!
Citizens No, no, no, no, no.
Menenius 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 further harm
Than so much loss of time.
Sicinius Speak briefly then;
For we are peremptory to dispatch
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.
Menenius Now the good gods forbid
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll’d
In Jove’s own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!
Sicinius He’s a disease that must be cut away.
Menenius 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 the end o’ the world.
Sicinius This is clean kam.
Brutus Merely awry: when he did love his country,
It honour’d him.
Menenius The service of the foot
Being once gangrened, is not then respected
For what before it was.
Brutus We’ll hear no more.
Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence:
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Menenius 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 beloved, break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.
Brutus If it were so —
Sicinius What do ye talk?
Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come.
Menenius Consider this: he has been bred i’ the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school’d
In bolted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I’ll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
In peace, to his utmost peril.
First Senator Noble tribunes,
It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.
Sicinius Noble Menenius,
Be you then as the people’s officer.
Masters, lay down your weapons.
Brutus Go not home.
Sicinius Meet on the market-place. We’ll attend you there:
Where, if you bring not Marcius, we’ll proceed
In our first way.
Menenius I’ll bring him to you.
To the Senators
Let me desire your company: he must come,
Or what is worst will follow.
First Senator Pray you, let’s to him.
Enter Coriolanus with Patricians
Coriolanus Let them puff 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.
A Patrician You do the nobler.
Coriolanus I muse my mother
Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder,
When one but of my ordinance stood up
To speak of peace or war.
I talk of you:
Why did you wish me milder? would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say I play
The man I am.
Volumnia O, sir, sir, sir,
I would have had you put your power well on,
Before you had worn it out.
Coriolanus Let go.
Volumnia You might have been enough the man you are,
With striving less to be so; lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions, if
You had not show’d them how ye were disposed
Ere they lack’d power to cross you.
Coriolanus Let them hang.
A Patrician Ay, and burn too.
Enter Menenius and Senators
Menenius Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough; You must return and mend it.
First Senator There’s no remedy;
Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Cleave in the midst, and perish.
Volumnia Pray, be counsell’d:
I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
To better vantage.
Menenius Well said, noble woman?
Before he should thus stoop to the herd, 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.
Coriolanus What must I do?
Menenius Return to the tribunes.
Coriolanus Well, what then? what then?
Menenius Repent what you have spoke.
Coriolanus For them! I cannot do it to the gods;
Must I then do’t to them?
Volumnia You are too absolute;
Though therein you can never be too noble,
But when extremities speak. I have heard you say,
Honour and policy, like unsever’d friends,
I’ the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me,
In peace what each of them by the other lose,
That they combine not there.
Coriolanus Tush, tush!
Menenius A good demand.
Volumnia If it be honour in your wars to seem
The same you are not, which, for your best ends,
You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse,
That it shall hold companionship in peace
With honour, as in war, since that to both
It stands in like request?
Coriolanus Why force you this?
Volumnia Because that now it lies you on to speak
To the people; not by your own instruction,
Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
But with such words that are but rooted in
Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom’s truth.
Now, this no more dishonours you at all
Than to take in a town with gentle words,
Which else would put you to your fortune and
The hazard of much blood.
I would dissemble with my nature where
My fortunes and my friends at stake required
I should do so in honour: I am in this,
Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you will rather show our general louts
How you can frown than spend a fawn upon ’em,
For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
Of what that want might ruin.
Menenius Noble lady!
Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.
Volumnia I prithee now, my son,
Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;
And thus far having 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.
Menenius 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.
Volumnia Prithee now,
Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather
Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.
Cominius 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.
Menenius Only fair speech.
Cominius I think ’twill serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.
Volumnia He must, and will
Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.
Coriolanus Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce?
Must I with base tongue give 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.
Cominius Come, come, we’ll prompt you.
Volumnia I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said
My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
To have my praise for this, perform a part
Thou hast not done before.
Coriolanus Well, I must do’t:
Away, my disposition, and possess me
Some harlot’s spirit! my throat of war be 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, and schoolboys’ 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 received an alms! I will not do’t,
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
And by my body’s action teach my mind
A most inherent baseness.
Volumnia At thy choice, then:
To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list
Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck’dst it from me,
But owe thy pride thyself.
Coriolanus Pray, be content:
Mother, I am going to the market-place;
Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves,
Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved
Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going:
Commend me to my wife. I’ll return consul;
Or never trust to what my tongue can do
I’ the way of flattery further.
Volumnia Do your will.
Cominius Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself
To answer mildly; for they are prepared
With accusations, as I hear, more strong
Than are upon you yet.
Coriolanus The word is ‘mildly.’ Pray you, let us go:
Let them accuse me by invention, I
Will answer in mine honour.
Menenius Ay, but mildly.
Coriolanus Well, mildly be it then. Mildly!
Enter Sicinius and Brutus
Brutus In this point charge him home, that he affects
Tyrannical power: if he evade us there,
Enforce him with his envy to the people,
And that the spoil got on the Antiates
Was ne’er distributed.
Enter an Aedile
What, will he come?
Aedile He’s coming.
Brutus How accompanied?
Aedile With old Menenius, and those senators
That always favour’d him.
Sicinius Have you a catalogue
Of all the voices that we have procured
Set down by the poll?
Aedile I have; ’tis ready.
Sicinius Have you collected them by tribes?
Aedile I have.
Sicinius Assemble presently the people hither;
And when they bear 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.
Aedile I shall inform them.
Brutus And when such time they have begun to cry,
Let them not cease, but with a din confused
Enforce the present execution
Of what we chance to sentence.
Aedile Very well.
Sicinius Make them be strong and ready for this hint,
When we shall hap to give ’t them.
Brutus Go about it.
Put him to choler straight: he hath been used
Ever to conquer, and to have his worth
Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot
Be 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.
Sicinius Well, here he comes.
Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with Senators and Patricians
Menenius Calmly, I do beseech you.
Coriolanus 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 ’s!
Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,
And not our streets with war!
First Senator Amen, amen.
Menenius A noble wish.
Re-enter Aedile, with Citizens
Sicinius Draw near, ye people.
Aedile List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say!
Coriolanus First, hear me speak.
Both Tribunes Well, say. Peace, ho!
Coriolanus Shall I be charged no further than this present?
Must all determine here?
Sicinius I do demand,
If you submit you to the people’s voices,
Allow their officers and are content
To suffer lawful censure for such faults
As shall be proved upon you?
Coriolanus I am content.
Menenius Lo, citizens, he says he is content:
The warlike service he has done, consider; think
Upon the wounds his body bears, which show
Like graves i’ the holy churchyard.
Coriolanus Scratches with briers,
Scars to move laughter only.
Menenius Consider further,
That when he speaks not like a citizen,
You find him like a soldier: do not take
His rougher accents for malicious sounds,
But, as I say, such as become a soldier,
Rather than envy you.
Cominius Well, well, no more.
Coriolanus What is the matter
That being pass’d for consul with full voice,
I am so dishonour’d that the very hour
You take it off again?
Sicinius Answer to us.
Coriolanus Say, then: ’tis true, I ought so.
Sicinius We charge you, that you have contrived to take
From Rome all season’d office and to wind
Yourself into a power tyrannical;
For which you are a traitor to the people.
Coriolanus How! traitor!
Menenius Nay, temperately; your promise.
Coriolanus The fires i’ the lowest hell fold-in the people!
Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
In thy hand 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.
Sicinius Mark you this, people?
Citizens To the rock, to the rock with him!
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 the extremest death.
Brutus But since he hath
Served well for Rome —
Coriolanus What do you prate of service?
Brutus I talk of that, that know it.
Menenius Is this the promise that you made your mother?
Cominius Know, I pray you —
Coriolanus I know no further:
Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger
But with a grain a day, I would not buy
Their mercy at the price of one fair word;
Nor cheque my courage for what they can give,
To have’t with saying ‘Good morrow.’
Sicinius For that he has,
As much as in him lies, from time to time
Envied against the people, seeking means
To pluck away their power, as now at last
Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence
Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
That do distribute it; in the name o’ 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.
Citizens It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away:
He’s banish’d, and it shall be so.
Cominius Hear me, my masters, and my common friends —
Sicinius He’s sentenced; no more hearing.
Cominius Let me speak:
I have been consul, and can show for Rome
Her enemies’ marks upon me. I do love
My country’s good with a respect more tender,
More holy and profound, than mine own life,
My dear wife’s estimate, her womb’s increase,
And treasure of my loins; then if I would
Speak that —
Sicinius We know your drift: speak what?
Brutus There’s no more to be said, but he is banish’d,
As enemy to the people and his country:
It shall be so.
Citizens It shall be so, it shall be so.
Coriolanus 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 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
Aedile The people’s enemy is gone, is gone!
Citizens Our enemy is banish’d! he is gone! Hoo! hoo!
Shouting, and throwing up their caps
Sicinius Go, see him out at gates, and follow him,
As he hath followed you, with all despite;
Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard
Attend us through the city.
Citizens Come, come; let’s see him out at gates; come.
The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:59