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 hast never in thy life
Showed thy dear mother any courtesy,
When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has clucked thee to the wars and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request’s unjust,
And spurn me back. But if it be not so,
Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee
That thou restrain‘st from me the duty which
To a mother’s part belongs.—He turns away.
Down, ladies. Let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname ‘Coriolanus’ ’longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down! An end.
This is the last.The ladies and Young Martius kneel
So we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours.—Nay, behold’s.
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels and holds up hands for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny’t.—Come, let us go.
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother.
His wife is in Codoles, and this child
Like him by chance.—Yet give us our dispatch.
I am hushed until our city be afire,
And then I’ll speak a little.
He holds her by the hand, silent
CORIOLANUS
O mother, mother!
What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother, O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome;
But for your son, believe it, O believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevailed,
If not most mortal to him. But let it come.
⌈The ladies and Young Martius rise⌉
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I’ll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead would you have heard
A mother less, or granted less, Aufidius?
AUFIDIUS
I was moved withal.
CORIOLANUS
I dare be sworn you were.
And, sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you’ll make, advise me. For my part,
I’ll not to Rome; I’ll back with you, and pray you
Stand to me in this cause.—O mother! Wife!
AUFIDIUS (aside)
I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour
At difference in thee. Out of that I’ll work
Myself a former fortune.
CORIOLANUS (to Volumnia and Virgilia) Ay, by and by.
But we will drink together, and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we
On like conditions will have counter-sealed.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you. All the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace.
Exeunt
5.4 Enter Menenius and Sicinius
MENENIUS See you yon coign o’th’ Capitol, yon corner-stone?
SICINIUS Why, what of that?
MENENIUS If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. But I say there is no hope in’t, our throats are sentenced and stay upon execution.
SICINIUS Is’t possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?
MENENIUS There is differency between a grub and a butterfly, yet your butterfly was a grub. This Martius is grown from man to dragon. He has wings, he’s more than a creeping thing.
SICINIUS He loved his mother dearly.
MENENIUS So did he me, and he no more remembers his mother now than an eight-year old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a corslet with his eye, talks like a knell, and his ‘hmh!’ is a battery. He sits in his state as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity and a heaven to throne in.
SICINIUS Yes: mercy, if you report him truly.
MENENIUS I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger. That shall our poor city find; and all this is ’long of you. SICINIUS The gods be good unto us!
VIENENIUS No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him we respected not them, and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER (to Sicinius)
Sir, if you’d save your life, fly to your house.
The plebeians have got your fellow tribune
And hale him up and down, all swearing if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home
They’ll give him death by inches.
Enter another Messenger
SICINIUS
What’s the news?
SECOND MESSENGER
Good news, good news. The ladies have prevailed,
The Volscians are dislodged, and Martius gone.
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not th’expulsion of the Tarquins.
SICINIUS
Friend,
Art thou certain this is true? Is’t most certain?
SECOND MESSENGER
As certain as I know the sun is fire.
Where have you lurked that you make doubt of it?
Ne’er through an arch so hurried the blown tide
As the recomforted through th’ gates.
Trumpets, hautboys, drums, beat all together
Why, hark you,
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes,
Tabors and cymbals and the shouting Romans
Make the sun dance.
A shout within
Hark you!
MENENIUS
This is good news.
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full; of tribunes such as you,
A sea and land full. You have prayed well today.
This morning for ten thousand of your throats
I’d not have given a doit.
Music sounds still with the shouts
Hark how they joy!
SICINIUS (to the Messenger)
First, the gods bless you for your tidings. Next,
⌈Giving money⌉ Accept my thankfulness.
SECOND MESSENGER
Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks.
SICINIUS
They are near the city.
SECOND MESSENGER Almost at point to enter.
SICINIUS We’ll meet them, and help the joy.
Exeunt
5.5 Enter ⌈at one door⌉ Lords ⌈and Citizens⌉, ⌈at another door⌉ two Senators with the ladies Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria, passing over the stage
A SENATOR
Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!
Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And make triumphant fires. Strew flowers before them.
Unshout the noise that banished Martius,
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother.
Cry ‘Welcome, ladies, welcome!’
ALL
Welcome, ladies, welcome!
A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt
5.6 Enter Tullus A
ufidius with attendants
AUFIDIUS
Go tell the lords o‘th’ city I am here.
Deliver them this paper. Having read it,
Bid them repair to th’ market-place, where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons’ ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
The city ports by this hath entered, and
Intends t’appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words. Dispatch.
Exeunt attendants
Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius’ faction
Most welcome.
FIRST CONSPIRATOR
How is it with our general?
AUFIDIUS Even so
As with a man by his own alms impoisoned,
And with his charity slain.
SECOND CONSPIRATOR Most noble sir,
If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wished us parties, we’ll deliver you
Of your great danger.
AUFIDIUS
Sir, I cannot tell.
We must proceed as we do find the people.
THIRD CONSPIRATOR
The people will remain uncertain whilst
’Twixt you there’s difference, but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
AUFIDIUS
I know it,
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I raised him, and I pawned
Mine honour for his truth; who being so heightened,
He watered his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and to this end
He bowed his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
THIRD CONSPIRATOR Sir, his stoutness
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping—
AUFIDIUS
That I would have spoke of.
Being banished for’t, he came unto my hearth,
Presented to my knife his throat. I took him,
Made him joint-servant with me, gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; served his designments
In mine own person, holp to reap the fame
Which he did end all his, and took some pride
To do myself this wrong, till at the last
I seemed his follower, not partner, and
He waged me with his countenance as if
I had been mercenary.
FIRST CONSPIRATOR
So he did, my lord.
The army marvelled at it, and in the last,
When he had carried Rome and that we looked
For no less spoil than glory—
AUFIDIUS
There was it,
For which my sinews shall be stretched upon him.
At a few drops of women’s rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action; therefore shall he die,
And I’ll renew me in his fall.
Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the people
But hark.
FIRST CONSPIRATOR
Your native town you entered like a post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns
Splitting the air with noise.
SECOND CONSPIRATOR And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
With giving him glory.
THIRD CONSPIRATOR Therefore, at your vantage,
Ere he express himself or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounced shall bury
His reasons with his body.
Enter the Lords of the city
AUFIDIUS
Say no more.
Here come the lords.
ALL THE LORDS You are most welcome home.
AUFIDIUS I have not deserved it.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
What I have written to you?
ALL THE LORDS
We have.
FIRST LORD
And grieve to hear’t.
What faults he made before the last, I think
Might have found easy fines. But there to end
Where he was to begin, and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding—this admits no excuse.
AUFIDIUS He approaches. You shall hear him.
Enter Coriolanus marching with drum and colours, the Commoners being with him
CORIOLANUS
Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier,
No more infected with my country’s love
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage led your wars even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home
Doth more than counterpoise a full third part
The charges of the action. We have made peace
With no less honour to the Antiates
Than shame to th’ Romans. And we here deliver,
Subscribed by th’ consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o’th’ senate, what
We have compounded on.
He gives the Lords a paper
AUFIDIUS
Read it not, noble lords,
But tell the traitor in the highest degree
He hath abused your powers.
CORIOLANUS Traitor? How now?
AUFIDIUS Ay, traitor, Martius.
CORIOLANUS Martius?
AUFIDIUS
Ay, Martius, Caius Martius. Dost thou think
I’ll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol’n name,
‘Coriolanus’, in Corioles?
You lords and heads o‘th’ state, perfidiously
He has betrayed your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city, Rome—
I say your city—to his wife and mother,
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
Counsel o’th’ war. But at his nurse’s tears
He whined and roared away your victory,
That pages blushed at him, and men of heart
Looked wond’ring each at others.
CORIOLANUS
Hear’st thou, Mars?
AUFIDIUS
Name not the god, thou boy of tears.
CORIOLANUS Ha?
AUFIDIUS
No more.
CORIOLANUS
Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. ‘Boy’? O slave!—
Pardon me, lords, ’tis the first time that ever
I was forced to scold. Your judgements, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie, and his own notion—
Who wears my stripes impressed upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave—shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.
FIRST LORD
Peace both, and hear me speak.
CORIOLANUS
Cut me to pieces, Volsces. Men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. ‘Boy’! False hound,
If you have writ your annals true, ‘tis there
That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Fluttered your Volscians in Corioles.
Alone I did it. ‘Boy’!
AUFIDIUS
Why, noble lords,
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame
, by this unholy braggart,
Fore your own eyes and ears?
ALL THE CONSPIRATORS
Let him die for’t.
ALL THE PEOPLE ⌈shouting dispersedly⌉
Tear him to pieces! Do it presently!
He killed my son! My daughter! He killed my cousin
Marcus! He killed my father!
SECOND LORD
Peace, ho! No outrage, peace.
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o’th’ earth. His last offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
CORIOLANUS ⌈drawing his sword⌉
O that I had him with six Aufidiuses,
Or more, his tribe, to use my lawful sword!
AUFIDIUS ⌈drawing his sword⌉
Insolent villain!
ALL THE CONSPIRATORS Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
Two Conspirators draw and kill Martius, who falls. Aufidius ⌈and Conspirators⌉ stand on him
LORDS
Hold, hold, hold, hold!
AUFIDIUS
My noble masters, hear me speak.
FIRST LORD
O Tullus!
SECOND LORD (to Aufidius)
Thou hast done a deed whereat
Valour will weep.
THIRD LORD ⌈to Aufidius and the Conspirators⌉
Tread not upon him, masters.
All be quiet. Put up your swords.
AUFIDIUS My lords,
When you shall know—as in this rage
Provoked by him you cannot—the great danger
Which this man’s life did owe you, you’ll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I’ll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
FIRST LORD Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most noble corpse that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.
SECOND LORD His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let’s make the best of it.
AUFIDIUS
My rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
Help three o’th’ chiefest soldiers; I’ll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully.
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 360
