Persons Represented
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, a noble
Roman
TITUS LARTIUS, General against the
VolsciansCOMINIUS, General against the VolsciansMENENIUS
AGRIPPA, Friend to CoriolanusSICINIUS VELUTUS, Tribune of the
PeopleJUNIUS BRUTUS, Tribune of the PeopleYOUNG MARCIUS, son
to CoriolanusA ROMAN HERALDTULLUS AUFIDIUS, General of the
VolsciansLIEUTENANT, to AufidiusConspirators with AufidiusA
CITIZEN of AntiumTWO VOLSCIAN GUARDS
VOLUMNIA, Mother to
CoriolanusVIRGILIA, Wife to CoriolanusVALERIA, Friend to
VirgiliaGENTLEWOMAN attending on Virgilia
Roman and Volscian Senators,
Patricians, Aediles, Lictors,Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers,
Servants to Aufidius, and otherAttendants
Act 1
SCENE: Partly in Rome, and partly in
the territories of the Volscians and Antiates.
Scene 1
Rome. A street.
[Enter a company of mutinous
citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons.]
FIRST CITIZEN. Before we proceed any
further, hear me speak.
ALL. Speak, speak.
FIRST CITIZEN. You are all resolved
rather to die than to famish?
ALL. Resolved, resolved.
FIRST CITIZEN. First, you know Caius
Marcius is chief enemy to the people.
ALL.We know't, we know't.
FIRST CITIZEN. Let us kill him, and
we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict?
ALL. No more talking on't; let it be
done: away, away!
SECOND CITIZEN. One word, good
citizens.
FIRST CITIZEN. We are accounted poor
citizens; the patricians good. What authority surfeits on would
relieve us; if they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were
wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think
we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our
misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our
sufferance is a gain to them.—Let us revenge this with our pikes
ere we become rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for
bread, not in thirst for revenge.
SECOND CITIZEN. Would you proceed
especially against Caius Marcius?
FIRST CITIZEN. Against him first:
he's a very dog to the commonalty.
SECOND CITIZEN.Consider you what
services he has done for his country?
FIRST CITIZEN. Very well; and could
be content to give him good report for't, but that he pays himself
with being proud.
SECOND CITIZEN. Nay, but speak not
maliciously.
FIRST CITIZEN. I say unto you, what
he hath done famously he did it to that end: though soft-conscienced
men can be content to say it was for his country, he did it to please
his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude
of his virtue.
SECOND CITIZEN. What he cannot help
in his nature you account a vice in him. You must in no way say he is
covetous.
FIRST CITIZEN. If I must not, I need
not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire
in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side
o' the city is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!
ALL. Come, come.
FIRST CITIZEN. Soft! who comes here?
SECOND CITIZEN. Worthy Menenius
Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.
FIRST CITIZEN. He's one honest
enough; would all the rest were so!
[Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA.]
MENENIUS. What work's, my
countrymen, in hand? where go youWith bats and clubs? the matter?
speak, I pray you.
FIRST CITIZEN. Our business is not
unknown to the senate; they have had inkling this fortnight what we
intend to do, which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor
suitors have strong breaths; they shall know we have strong arms too.
MENENIUS. Why, masters, my good
friends, mine honest neighbours,Will you undo yourselves?
FIRST CITIZEN. We cannot, sir; we
are undone already.
MENENIUS. I tell you, friends, most
charitable careHave the patricians of you. For your wants,Your
suffering in this dearth, you may as wellStrike at the heaven
with your staves as lift themAgainst the Roman state; whose
course will onThe way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbsOf
more strong link asunder than can everAppear in your impediment:
for the dearth,The gods, not the patricians, make it; andYour
knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,You are transported by
calamityThither where more attends you; and you slanderThe
helms o' th' state, who care for you like fathers,When you curse
them as enemies.
FIRST CITIZEN. Care for us! True,
indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their
storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support
usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich,
and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the
poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love
they bear us.
MENENIUS. Either you mustConfess
yourselves wondrous malicious,Or be accus'd of folly. I shall
tell youA pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;But, since
it serves my purpose, I will ventureTo stale't a little more.
FIRST CITIZEN. Well, I'll hear it,
sir; yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but,
an't please you, deliver.
MENENIUS. There was a time when all
the body's membersRebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd
it:—That only like a gulf it did remainI' the midst o' the
body, idle and unactive,Still cupboarding the viand, never
bearingLike labour with the rest; where th' other instrumentsDid
see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,And, mutually
participate, did ministerUnto the appetite and affection
commonOf the whole body. The belly answered,—
FIRST CITIZEN. Well, sir, what
answer made the belly?
MENENIUS. Sir, I shall tell
you.—With a kind of smile,Which ne'er came from the lungs, but
even thus,—For, look you, I may make the belly smileAs well
as speak,—it tauntingly repliedTo the discontented members, the
mutinous partsThat envied his receipt; even so most fitlyAs
you malign our senators for thatThey are not such as you.
FIRST CITIZEN. Your belly's answer?
What!The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,The counsellor
heart, the arm our soldier,Our steed the leg, the tongue our
trumpeter,With other muniments and petty helpsIs this our
fabric, if that they,—
MENENIUS. What then?—'Fore me,
this fellow speaks!—what then? what then?
FIRST CITIZEN. Should by the
cormorant belly be restrain'd,Who is the sink o' the body,—
MENENIUS. Well, what then?
FIRST CITIZEN. The former agents, if
they did complain,What could the belly answer?
MENENIUS. I will tell you;If
you'll bestow a small,—of what you have little,—Patience
awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.
FIRST CITIZEN. You are long about
it.
MENENIUS. Note me this, good
friend;Your most grave belly was deliberate,Not rash like his
accusers, and thus answer'd:'True is it, my incorporate friends,'
quoth he,'That I receive the general food at firstWhich you
do live upon; and fit it is,Because I am the storehouse and the
shopOf the whole body: but, if you do remember,I send it
through the rivers of your blood,Even to the court, the heart,—to
the seat o' the brain;And, through the cranks and offices of
man,The strongest nerves and small inferior veinsFrom me
receive that natural competencyWhereby they live: and though that
all at onceYou, my good friends,'—this says the belly,—mark
me,—
FIRST CITIZEN. Ay, sir; well, well.
MENENIUS. 'Though all at once
cannotSee what I do deliver out to each,Yet I can make my
audit up, that allFrom me do back receive the flour of all,And
leave me but the bran.' What say you to't?
FIRST CITIZEN. It was an answer: how
apply you this?
MENENIUS. The senators of Rome are
this good belly,And you the mutinous members; for, examineTheir
counsels and their cares; digest things rightlyTouching the weal
o' the common; you shall findNo public benefit which you
receiveBut it proceeds or comes from them to you,And no way
from yourselves.—What do you think,You, the great toe of this
assembly?
FIRST CITIZEN. I the great toe? why
the great toe?
MENENIUS. For that, being one o' the
lowest, basest, poorest,Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st
foremost:Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,Lead'st
first to win some vantage.—But make you ready your stiff bats
and clubs:Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;The
one side must have bale.—
[Enter CAIUS MARCIUS.]
Hail, noble Marcius!
MARCIUS. Thanks.—What's the
matter, you dissentious roguesThat, rubbing the poor itch of your
opinion,Make yourselves scabs?
FIRST CITIZEN. We have ever your
good word.
MARCIUS. He that will give good
words to thee will flatterBeneath abhorring.—What would you
have, you curs,That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights
you,The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,Where he
should find you lions, finds you hares;Where foxes, geese: you
are no surer, no,Than is the coal of fire upon the ic,Or
hailstone in the sun. Your virtue isTo make him worthy whose
offence subdues him,And curse that justice did it. Who deserves
greatnessDeserves your hate; and your affections areA sick
man's appetite, who desires most thatWhich would increase his
evil. He that dependsUpon your favours swims with fins of
lead,And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye!With
every minute you do change a mind;And call him noble that was now
your hate,Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter,That
in these several places of the cityYou cry against the noble
senate, who,Under the gods, keep you in awe, which elseWould
feed on one another?—What's their seeking?
MENENIUS. For corn at their own
rates; whereof they sayThe city is well stor'd.
MARCIUS. Hang 'em! They say!They'll
sit by th' fire and presume to knowWhat's done i' the Capitol;
who's like to rise,Who thrives and who declines; side factions,
and give outConjectural marriages; making parties strong,And
feebling such as stand not in their likingBelow their cobbled
shoes. They say there's grain enough!Would the nobility lay aside
their ruthAnd let me use my sword, I'd make a quarryWith
thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as highAs I could pick my
lance.
MENENIUS. Nay, these are almost
thoroughly persuaded;For though abundantly they lack
discretion,Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech
you,What says the other troop?
MARCIUS. They are dissolved: hang
'em!They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs,—That
hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,That meat was made
for mouths, that the gods sent notCorn for the rich men
only:—with these shredsThey vented their complainings; which
being answer'd,And a petition granted them,—a strange one,To
break the heart of generosity,And make bold power look pale,—they
threw their capsAs they would hang them on the horns o' the
moon,Shouting their emulation.
MENENIUS. What is granted them?
MARCIUS. Five tribunes, to defend
their vulgar wisdoms,Of their own choice: one's Junius
Brutus,Sicinius Velutus, and I know not.—'Sdeath!The rabble
should have first unroof'd the cityEre so prevail'd with me: it
will in timeWin upon power, and throw forth greater themesFor
insurrection's arguing.
MENENIUS.This is strange.
MARCIUS. Go get you home, you
fragments!
[Enter a MESSENGER, hastily.]
MESSENGER. Where's Caius Marcius?
MARCIUS. Here: what's the matter?
MESSENGER. The news is, sir, the
Volsces are in arms.
MARCIUS. I am glad on't: then we
shall ha' means to ventOur musty superfluity.—See, our best
elders.
[Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and
other SENATORS; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS.]
FIRST SENATOR. Marcius, 'tis true
that you have lately told us:—The Volsces are in arms.
MARCIUS. They have a leader,Tullus
Aufidius, that will put you to't.I sin in envying his
nobility;And were I anything but what I am,I would wish me
only he.
COMINIUS. You have fought together.
MARCIUS. Were half to half the world
by the ears, and heUpon my party, I'd revolt, to makeOnly my
wars with him: he is a lionThat I am proud to hunt.
FIRST SENATOR. Then, worthy
Marcius,Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
COMINIUS. It is your former promise.
MARCIUS. Sir, it is;And I am
constant.—Titus Lartius, thouShalt see me once more strike at
Tullus' face.What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?
TITUS LARTIUS. No, Caius
Marcius;I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with the otherEre
stay behind this business.
MENENIUS. O, true bred!
FIRST SENATOR. Your company to the
Capitol; where, I know,Our greatest friends attend us.
TITUS LARTIUS. Lead you on.Follow,
Cominius; we must follow you;Right worthy your priority.
COMINIUS. Noble Marcius!
FIRST SENATOR. Hence to your homes;
be gone![To the Citizens.]
MARCIUS. Nay, let them follow:The
Volsces have much corn; take these rats thitherTo gnaw their
garners.—Worshipful mutineers,Your valour puts well forth: pray
follow.
[Exeunt Senators, COM., MAR, TIT.,
and MENEN. Citizens steal away.]
SICINIUS. Was ever man so proud as
is this Marcius?
BRUTUS. He has no equal.
SICINIUS. When we were chosen
tribunes for the people,—
BRUTUS. Mark'd you his lip and eyes?
SICINIUS. Nay, but his taunts!
BRUTUS. Being mov'd, he will not
spare to gird the gods.
SICINIUS. Bemock the modest moon.
BRUTUS. The present wars devour him:
he is grownToo proud to be so valiant.
SICINIUS. Such a nature,Tickled
with good success, disdains the shadowWhich he treads on at noon:
but I do wonderHis insolence can brook to be commandedUnder
Cominius.
BRUTUS. Fame, at the which he
aims,—In whom already he is well grac'd,—cannotBetter be
held, nor more attain'd, than byA place below the first: for what
miscarriesShall be the general's fault, though he performTo
th' utmost of a man; and giddy censureWill then cry out of
Marcius 'O, if heHad borne the business!'
SICINIUS. Besides, if things go
well,Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shallOf his demerits
rob Cominius.
BRUTUS. Come:Half all Cominius'
honours are to Marcius,Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all
his faultsTo Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed,In
aught he merit not.
SICINIUS. Let's hence and hearHow
the dispatch is made; and in what fashion,More than in
singularity, he goesUpon this present action.
BRUTUS. Let's along.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 2
Corioli. The Senate House.
[Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain
SENATORS.]
FIRST SENATOR. So, your opinion is,
Aufidius,That they of Rome are enter'd in our counselsAnd
know how we proceed.
AUFIDIUS. Is it not yours?What
ever have been thought on in this state,That could be brought to
bodily act ere RomeHad circumvention! 'Tis not four days
goneSince I heard thence; these are the words: I thinkI have
the letter here;yes, here it is:[Reads.]'They have pressed a
power, but it is not knownWhether for east or west: the dearth is
great;The people mutinous: and it is rumour'd,Cominius,
Marcius your old enemy,—Who is of Rome worse hated than of
you,—And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,These three
lead on this preparationWhither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for
you:Consider of it.'
FIRST SENATOR. Our army's in the
field:We never yet made doubt but Rome was readyTo answer us.
AUFIDIUS. Nor did you think it
follyTo keep your great pretences veil'd till whenThey needs
must show themselves; which in the hatching,It seem'd, appear'd
to Rome. By the discoveryWe shall be shorten'd in our aim; which
was,To take in many towns ere, almost, RomeShould know we
were afoot.
SECOND SENATOR. Noble Aufidius,Take
your commission; hie you to your bands;Let us alone to guard
Corioli:If they set down before's, for the removeBring up
your army; but I think you'll findThey've not prepared for us.
AUFIDIUS. O, doubt not that;I
speak from certainties. Nay, more,Some parcels of their power are
forth already,And only hitherward. I leave your honours.If we
and Caius Marcius chance to meet,'Tis sworn between us we shall
ever strikeTill one can do no more.
ALL. The gods assist you!
AUFIDIUS. And keep your honours
safe!
FIRST SENATOR. Farewell.
SECOND SENATOR. Farewell.
ALL. Farewell.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 3
Rome. An apartmnet in MARCIUS'
house.
[Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA; they
sit down on two low stools and sew.]
VOLUMNIA. I pray you, daughter,
sing, or express yourself in a more comfortable sort; if my son were
my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won
honour than in the embracements of his bed where he would show most
love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my womb;
when youth with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way; when, for a day
of kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her
beholding; I,—considering how honour would become such a person;
that it was no better than picture-like to hang by th' wall if renown
made it not stir;—was pleased to let him seek danger where he was
to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned his
brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy
at first hearing he was a man-child than now in first seeing he had
proved himself a man.
VIRGILIA. But had he died in the
business, madam? how then?
VOLUMNIA. Then his good report
should have been my son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me
profess sincerely,—had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike, and
none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather had
eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out
of action.
[Enter a GENTLEWOMAN.]
GENTLEWOMAN. Madam, the Lady Valeria
is come to visit you.
VIRGILIA. Beseech you, give me leave
to retire myself.
VOLUMNIA. Indeed you shall
not.Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum;See him pluck
Aufidius down by the hair;As children from a bear, the Volsces
shunning him:Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:—'Come
on, you cowards! you were got in fearThough you were born in
Rome:' his bloody browWith his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he
goes,Like to a harvest-man that's tasked to mowOr all, or
lose his hire.
VIRGILIA. His bloody brow! O
Jupiter, no blood!
VOLUMNIA. Away, you fool! It more
becomes a manThan gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,When
she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelierThan Hector's forehead
when it spit forth bloodAt Grecian swords contending.—Tell
ValeriaWe are fit to bid her welcome.
[Exit GENTLEWOMAN.]
VIRGILIA. Heavens bless my lord from
fell Aufidius!
VOLUMNIA. He'll beat Aufidius' head
below his knee,And tread upon his neck.
[Re-enter GENTLEWOMAN, with VALERIA
and her Usher.]
VALERIA. My ladies both, good-day to
you.
VOLUMNIA. Sweet madam.
VIRGILIA. I am glad to see your
ladyship.
VALERIA. How do you both? you are
manifest housekeepers. What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good
faith.—How does your little son?
VIRGILIA. I thank your ladyship;
well, good madam.
VOLUMNIA. He had rather see the
swords and hear a drum than look upon his schoolmaster.
VALERIA. O' my word, the father's
son: I'll swear 'tis a very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon
him o' Wednesday, half an hour together: has such a confirmed
countenance. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly; and when he
caught it he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over
he comes, and up again; catched it again; or whether his fall enraged
him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth and tear it; O, I warrant,
how he mammocked it!
VOLUMNIA. One on's father's moods.
VALERIA. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble
child.
VIRGILIA. A crack, madam.
VALERIA. Come, lay aside your
stitchery; I must have you play the idle huswife with me this
afternoon.
VIRGILIA. No, good madam; I will not
out of doors.
VALERIA. Not out of doors!
VOLUMNIA. She shall, she shall.
VIRGILIA. Indeed, no, by your
patience; I'll not over the threshold till my lord return from the
wars.
VALERIA. Fie, you confine yourself
most unreasonably; come, you must go visit the good lady that lies
in.
VIRGILIA. I will wish her speedy
strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither.
VOLUMNIA. Why, I pray you?
VIRGILIA. 'Tis not to save labour,
nor that I want love.
VALERIA. You would be another
Penelope; yet they say all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did
but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric were
sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for
pity.—Come, you shall go with us.
VIRGILIA. No, good madam, pardon me;
indeed I will not forth.
VALERIA. In truth, la, go with me;
and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.
VIRGILIA. O, good madam, there can
be none yet.
VALERIA. Verily, I do not jest with
you; there came news from him last night.
VIRGILIA. Indeed, madam?
VALERIA. In earnest, it's true; I
heard a senator speak it. Thus it is:—the Volsces have an army
forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of
our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before
their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it
brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.
VIRGILIA. Give me excuse, good
madam; I will obey you in everything hereafter.
VOLUMNIA. Let her alone, lady; as
she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.
VALERIA. In troth, I think she
would.—Fare you well, then.—Come, good sweet lady.—Pr'ythee,
Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o' door and go along with us.
VIRGILIA. No, at a word, madam;
indeed I must not. I wish you much mirth.
VALERIA. Well then, farewell.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 4
Before Corioli.
[Enter, with drum and colours,
MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Officers, and soldiers.]
MARCIUS. Yonder comes news:—a
wager they have met.
LARTIUS. My horse to yours, no.
MARCIUS. 'Tis done.
LARTIUS. Agreed.
[Enter a Messenger.]
MARCIUS. Say, has our general met
the enemy?
MESSENGER. They lie in view; but
have not spoke as yet.
LARTIUS. So, the good horse is mine.
MARCIUS. I'll buy him of you.
LARTIUS. No, I'll nor sell nor give
him: lend you him I willFor half a hundred years.—Summon the
town.
MARCIUS. How far off lie these
armies?
MESSENGER. Within this mile and
half.
MARCIUS. Then shall we hear their
'larum, and they ours.—Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in
work,That we with smoking swords may march from henceTo help
our fielded friends!—Come, blow thy blast.
[They sound a parley. Enter, on the
Walls, some Senators and others.]
Tullus Aufidius, is he within your
walls?
FIRST SENATOR. No, nor a man that
fears you less than he,That's lesser than a little.[Drum afar
off]Hark, our drumsAre bringing forth our youth! we'll break
our wallsRather than they shall pound us up: our gates,Which
yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with rushes;They'll open of
themselves.[Alarum far off.]Hark you far off!There is
Aufidius; list what work he makesAmongst your cloven army.
MARCIUS. O, they are at it!
LARTIUS. Their noise be our
instruction.—Ladders, ho!
[The Volsces enter and pass over.]
MARCIUS. They fear us not, but issue
forth their city.Now put your shields before your hearts, and
fightWith hearts more proof than shields.—Advance, brave
Titus:They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,Which makes
me sweat with wrath.—Come on, my fellows:He that retires, I'll
take him for a Volsce,And he shall feel mine edge.
[Alarums, and exeunt Romeans and
Volsces fighting. Romans are beaten back to their trenches. Re-enter
MARCIUS.]
MARCIUS. All the contagion of the
south light on you,You shames of Rome!—you herd of—Boils and
plaguesPlaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'dFarther than
seen, and one infect anotherAgainst the wind a mile! You souls of
geeseThat bear the shapes of men, how have you runFrom slaves
that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!All hurt behind; backs red,
and faces paleWith flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge
home,Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foeAnd make
my wars on you: look to't: come on;If you'll stand fast we'll
beat them to their wives,As they us to our trenches.
[Another alarum. The Volsces and
Romans re-enter, and the fight is renewed. The Volsces retire into
Corioli, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates.]
So, now the gates are ope:—now
prove good seconds:'Tis for the followers fortune widens
them,Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.
[He enters the gates]
FIRST SOLDIER. Fool-hardiness: not
I.
SECOND SOLDIER. Nor I.
[MARCIUS is shut in.]
FIRST SOLDIER. See, they have shut
him in.
ALL. To th' pot, I warrant him.
[Alarum continues]
[Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS.]
LARTIUS. What is become of Marcius?
ALL. Slain, sir, doubtless.
FIRST SOLDIER. Following the fliers
at the very heels,With them he enters; who, upon the
sudden,Clapp'd-to their gates: he is himself alone,To answer
all the city.
LARTIUS. O noble fellow!Who
sensible, outdares his senseless sword,And when it bows stands
up! Thou art left, Marcius:A carbuncle entire, as big as thou
art,Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldierEven to
Cato's wish, not fierce and terribleOnly in strokes; but with thy
grim looks andThe thunder-like percussion of thy soundsThou
mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the worldWere feverous and did
tremble.
[Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding,
assaulted by the enemy.]
FIRST SOLDIER. Look, sir.
LARTIUS. O, 'tis Marcius!Let's
fetch him off, or make remain alike.
[They fight, and all enter the
city.]
Scene 5
Within Corioli. A street.
[Enter certain Romans, with spoils.]
FIRST ROMAN. This will I carry to
Rome.
SECOND ROMAN. And I this.
THIRD ROMAN. A murrain on't! I took
this for silver.
[Alarum continues still afar off.]
[Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS
with a trumpet.]
MARCIUS. See here these movers that
do prize their hoursAt a crack'd drachma! Cushions, leaden
spoons,Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen wouldBury with
those that wore them, these base slaves,Ere yet the fight be
done, pack up:—down with them!—And hark, what noise the
general makes!—To him!—There is the man of my soul's hate,
Aufidius,Piercing our Romans; then, valiant Titus,
takeConvenient numbers to make good the city;Whilst I, with
those that have the spirit, will hasteTo help Cominius.
LARTIUS. Worthy sir, thou
bleed'st;Thy exercise hath been too violentFor a second
course of fight.
MARCIUS. Sir, praise me not;My
work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well;The blood I drop is
rather physicalThan dangerous to me: to Aufidius thusI will
appear, and fight.
LARTIUS. Now the fair goddess,
Fortune,Fall deep in love with thee; and her great
charmsMisguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,Prosperity
be thy page!
MARCIUS. Thy friend no lessThan
those she placeth highest!—So farewell.
LARTIUS. Thou worthiest Marcius!—
[Exit MARCIUS.]
Go, sound thy trumpet in the
market-place;Call thither all the officers o' the town,Where
they shall know our mind: away!
[Exeunt.]
Scene 6
Near the camp of COMINIUS.
[Enter COMINIUS and Foreces,
retreating.]
COMINIUS. Breathe you, my friends:
well fought; we are come offLike Romans, neither foolish in our
standsNor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,We shall be
charg'd again. Whiles we have struck,By interims and conveying
gusts we have heardThe charges of our friends. The Roman
gods,Lead their successes as we wish our own,That both our
powers, with smiling fronts encountering,May give you thankful
sacrifice!—
[Enter A MESSENGER.]
Thy news?
MESSENGER. The citizens of Corioli
have issued,And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:I saw
our party to their trenches driven,And then I came away.
COMINIUS. Though thou speak'st
truth,Methinks thou speak'st not well. How long is't since?
MESSENGER. Above an hour, my lord.
COMINIUS. 'Tis not a mile; briefly
we heard their drums:How couldst thou in a mile confound an
hour,And bring thy news so late?
MESSENGER. Spies of the VolscesHeld
me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheelThree or four miles about;
else had I, sir,Half an hour since brought my report.
COMINIUS. Who's yonder,That does
appear as he were flay'd? O gods!He has the stamp of Marcius; and
I haveBefore-time seen him thus.
MARCIUS. [Within.] Come I too late?
COMINIUS. The shepherd knows not
thunder from a taborMore than I know the sound of Marcius'
tongueFrom every meaner man.
[Enter MARCIUS.]
MARCIUS. Come I too late?
COMINIUS. Ay, if you come not in the
blood of others,But mantled in your own.
MARCIUS. O! let me clip yeIn
arms as sound as when I woo'd; in heartAs merry as when our
nuptial day was done,And tapers burn'd to bedward.
COMINIUS. Flower of warriors,How
is't with Titus Lartius?
MARCIUS. As with a man busied about
decrees:Condemning some to death and some to exile;Ransoming
him or pitying, threat'ning the other;Holding Corioli in the name
of Rome,Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,To let him
slip at will.
COMINIUS. Where is that slaveWhich
told me they had beat you to your trenches?Where's he? call him
hither.
MARCIUS. Let him alone;He did
inform the truth: but for our gentlemen,The common file,—a
plague!—tribunes for them!—The mouse ne'er shunned the cat as
they did budgeFrom rascals worse than they.
COMINIUS. But how prevail'd you?
MARCIUS. Will the time serve to
tell? I do not think.Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the
field?If not, why cease you till you are so?
COMINIUS. Marcius,We have at
disadvantage fought, and didRetire, to win our purpose.
MARCIUS. How lies their battle? know
you on which sideThey have placed their men of trust?
COMINIUS. As I guess, Marcius,Their
bands in the vaward are the Antiates,Of their best trust; o'er
them Aufidius,Their very heart of hope.
MARCIUS. I do beseech you,By all
the battles wherein we have fought,By the blood we have shed
together, by the vowsWe have made to endure friends, that you
directlySet me against Aufidius and his Antiates;And that you
not delay the present, but,Filling the air with swords advanc'd
and darts,We prove this very hour.
COMINIUS. Though I could wishYou
were conducted to a gentle bath,And balms applied to you, yet
dare I neverDeny your asking: take your choice of thoseThat
best can aid your action.
MARCIUS. Those are theyThat most
are willing.—If any such be here,—As it were sin to
doubt,—that love this paintingWherein you see me smear'd; if
any fearLesser his person than an ill report;If any think
brave death outweighs bad life,And that his country's dearer than
himself;Let him alone, or so many so minded,Wave thus [waving
his hand], to express his disposition,And follow Marcius.
[They all shout and wave their
swords; take him up in their arms and cast up their caps.]
O, me alone! Make you a sword of
me?If these shows be not outward, which of youBut is four
Volsces? none of you but isAble to bear against the great
AufidiusA shield as hard as his. A certain number,Though
thanks to all, must I select from all: the restShall bear the
business in some other fight,As cause will be obey'd. Please you
to march;And four shall quickly draw out my command,Which men
are best inclin'd.
COMINIUS. March on, my fellows;Make
good this ostentation, and you shallDivide in all with us.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 7
The gates of Corioli.
[TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard
upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS
MARCIUS, enters with a LIEUTENANT, a party of Soldiers, and a Scout.]
LARTIUS. So, let the ports be
guarded: keep your dutiesAs I have set them down. If I do send,
despatchThose centuries to our aid; the rest will serveFor a
short holding: if we lose the fieldWe cannot keep the town.
LIEUTENANT. Fear not our care, sir.
LARTIUS. Hence, and shut your gates
upon's.—Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 8
A field of battle between the Roman
and the Volscian camps.
[Alarum. Enter, from opposite sides,
MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS.]
MARCIUS. I'll fight with none but
thee, for I do hate theeWorse than a promise-breaker.
AUFIDIUS. We hate alike:Not
Afric owns a serpent I abhorMore than thy fame and envy. Fix thy
foot.
MARCIUS. Let the first budger die
the other's slave,And the gods doom him after!
AUFIDIUS. If I fly, Marcius,Halloo
me like a hare.
MARCIUS. Within these three hours,
Tullus,Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,And made what
work I pleas'd: 'tis not my bloodWherein thou seest me mask'd:
for thy revengeWrench up thy power to the highest.
AUFIDIUS. Wert thou the HectorThat
was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,Thou shouldst not scape me
here.—
[They fight, and certain Volsces
come to the aid of AUFIDIUS.]
Officious, and not valiant,—you
have sham'd meIn your condemned seconds.
[Exeunt fighting, driven in by MAR.]
Scene 9
The Roman camp.
[Alarum. A retreat is sounded.
Flourish. Enter, at one side, COMINIUS and Romans; at the other side,
MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans.]
COMINIUS. If I should tell thee o'er
this thy day's work,Thou't not believe thy deeds: but I'll report
itWhere senators shall mingle tears with smiles;Where great
patricians shall attend, and shrug,I' the end admire; where
ladies shall be frightedAnd, gladly quak'd, hear more; where the
dull tribunes,That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine
honours,Shall say, against their hearts 'We thank the godsOur
Rome hath such a soldier.'Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this
feast,Having fully dined before.
[Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his
power, from the pursuit.]
LARTIUS. O general,Here is the
steed, we the caparison:Hadst thou beheld,—
MARCIUS. Pray now, no more: my
mother,Who has a charter to extol her blood,When she does
praise me grieves me. I have doneAs you have done,—that's what
I can; inducedAs you have been,—that's for my country:He
that has but effected his good willHath overta'en mine act.
COMINIUS. You shall not beThe
grave of your deserving; Rome must knowThe value of her own:
'twere a concealmentWorse than a theft, no less than a
traducement,To hide your doings; and to silence thatWhich, to
the spire and top of praises vouch'd,Would seem but modest:
therefore, I beseech you,—In sign of what you are, not to
rewardWhat you have done,—before our army hear me.
MARCIUS. I have some wounds upon me,
and they smartTo hear themselves remember'd.
COMINIUS. Should they not,Well
might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,And tent themselves with
death. Of all the horses,—Whereof we have ta'en good, and good
store,—of allThe treasure in this field achiev'd and city,We
render you the tenth; to be ta'en forthBefore the common
distribution atYour only choice.
MARCIUS. I thank you, general,But
cannot make my heart consent to takeA bribe to pay my sword: I do
refuse it;And stand upon my common part with thoseThat have
beheld the doing.
[A long flourish. They all cry
'Marcius, Marcius!', cast up theircaps and lances. COMINIUS and
LARTIUS stand bare.]
May these same instruments which you
profaneNever sound more! When drums and trumpets shallI' the
field prove flatterers, let courts and cities beMade all of
false-fac'd soothing.When steel grows soft as the parasite's
silk,Let him be made a coverture for the wars.No more, I say!
for that I have not wash'dMy nose that bled, or foil'd some
debile wretch,—Which, without note, here's many else have
done,—You shout me forth in acclamations hyperbolical;As if
I loved my little should be dietedIn praises sauc'd with lies.
COMINIUS. Too modest are you;More
cruel to your good report than gratefulTo us that give you truly;
by your patience,If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put
you,—Like one that means his proper harm,—in manacles,Then
reason safely with you.—Therefore be it known,As to us, to all
the world, that Caius MarciusWears this war's garland: in token
of the which,My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,With
all his trim belonging; and from this time,For what he did before
Corioli, call him,With all the applause—and clamour of the
host,'Caius Marcius Coriolanus.'—Bear the addition nobly
ever!
[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and
drums]
ALL. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!
CORIOLANUS. I will go wash;And
when my face is fair you shall perceiveWhether I blush or no:
howbeit, I thank you;—I mean to stride your steed; and at all
timesTo undercrest your good additionTo the fairness of my
power.
COMINIUS. So, to our tent;Where,
ere we do repose us, we will writeTo Rome of our success.—You,
Titus Lartius,Must to Corioli back: send us to RomeThe best,
with whom we may articulateFor their own good and ours.
LARTIUS. I shall, my lord.
CORIOLANUS. The gods begin to mock
me. I, that nowRefus'd most princely gifts, am bound to begOf
my lord general.
COMINIUS. Take't: 'tis yours.—What
is't?
CORIOLANUS. I sometime lay here in
CorioliAt a poor man's house; he used me kindly:He cried to
me; I saw him prisoner;But then Aufidius was within my view,And
wrath o'erwhelmed my pity: I request youTo give my poor host
freedom.
COMINIUS. O, well begg'd!Were he
the butcher of my son, he shouldBe free as is the wind. Deliver
him, Titus.
LARTIUS. Marcius, his name?
CORIOLANUS. By Jupiter, forgot:—I
am weary; yea, my memory is tir'd.—Have we no wine here?
COMINIUS. Go we to our tent:The
blood upon your visage dries; 'tis timeIt should be look'd to:
come.
[Exeunt.]
Scene 10
The camp of the Volsces.
[A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS
AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three soldiers.]
AUFIDIUS. The town is ta'en.
FIRST SOLDIER. 'Twill be delivered
back on good condition.
AUFIDIUS. Condition!I would I
were a Roman; for I cannot,Being a Volsce, be that I
am.—Condition?What good condition can a treaty findI' the
part that is at mercy?—Five times, Marcius,I have fought with
thee; so often hast thou beat me;And wouldst do so, I think,
should we encounterAs often as we eat.—By the elements,If
e'er again I meet him beard to beard,He's mine or I am his: mine
emulationHath not that honour in't it had; for whereI thought
to crush him in an equal force,—True sword to sword,—I'll
potch at him some way,Or wrath or craft may get him.
FIRST SOLDIER. He's the devil.
AUFIDIUS. Bolder, though not so
subtle. My valour's poisonedWith only suffering stain by him; for
himShall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,Being
naked, sick; nor fane nor Capitol,The prayers of priests nor
times of sacrifice,Embarquements all of fury, shall lift upTheir
rotten privilege and custom 'gainstMy hate to Marcius: where I
find him, were itAt home, upon my brother's guard, even
there,Against the hospitable canon, would IWash my fierce
hand in's heart. Go you to the city;Learn how 'tis held; and what
they are that mustBe hostages for Rome.
FIRST SOLDIER. Will not you go?
AUFIDIUS. I am attended at the
cypress grove: I pray you,—'Tis south the city mills,—bring
me word thitherHow the world goes, that to the pace of itI
may spur on my journey.
FIRST SOLDIER. I shall, sir.
[Exeunt.]