ADRIANA. O, bind him, bind him; let him not come near me.


PINCH. More company; the fiend is strong within him.


LUCIANA. Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. What, will you murder me? Thou jailer, thou, I am thy prisoner. Wilt thou suffer them To make a rescue?


OFFICER. Masters, let him go. He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.


PINCH. Go, bind this man, for he is frantic too.


ADRIANA. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer? Hast thou delight to see a wretched man Do outrage and displeasure to himself?


OFFICER. He is my prisoner. If I let him go, The debt he owes will be requir'd of me.


ADRIANA. I will discharge thee ere I go from thee; Bear me forthwith unto his creditor, And knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it. Good master doctor, see him safe convey'd Home to my house. O most unhappy day!


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. O most unhappy strumpet!


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Master, I am here enter'd in bond for you.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me?


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Will you be bound for nothing? Be mad, good master; cry, "the devil".


LUCIANA. God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk!


ADRIANA. Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me.


[Exeunt Pinch and Assistants, with Antipholus of Ephesus and Dromio of Ephesus.]


Say now, whose suit is he arrested at?


OFFICER. One Angelo, a goldsmith; do you know him?


ADRIANA. I know the man. What is the sum he owes?


OFFICER. Two hundred ducats.


ADRIANA. Say, how grows it due?


OFFICER. Due for a chain your husband had of him.


ADRIANA. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.


COURTESAN. When as your husband, all in rage, today Came to my house and took away my ring, The ring I saw upon his finger now, Straight after did I meet him with a chain.


ADRIANA. It may be so, but I did never see it. Come, jailer, bring me where the goldsmith is, I long to know the truth hereof at large.


Enter Antipholus of Syracuse with his rapier drawn, and Dromio of Syracuse.


LUCIANA. God, for thy mercy, they are loose again!


ADRIANA. And come with naked swords. Let's call more help To have them bound again.


OFFICER. Away, they'll kill us.


[Exeunt, as fast as may be, frighted.]


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I see these witches are afraid of swords.


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. She that would be your wife now ran from you.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Come to the Centaur, fetch our stuff from thence. I long that we were safe and sound aboard.


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Faith, stay here this night, they will surely do us no harm; you saw they speak us fair, give us gold. Methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I will not stay tonight for all the town; Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.


ANGELO. I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd you, But I protest he had the chain of me, Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.


MERCHANT. How is the man esteem'd here in the city?


ANGELO. Of very reverend reputation, sir, Of credit infinite, highly belov'd, Second to none that lives here in the city. His word might bear my wealth at any time.


MERCHANT. Speak softly. Yonder, as I think, he walks.


Enter Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse.


ANGELO. 'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck Which he forswore most monstrously to have. Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him. Signior Antipholus, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble, And not without some scandal to yourself, With circumstance and oaths so to deny This chain, which now you wear so openly. Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment, You have done wrong to this my honest friend, Who, but for staying on our controversy, Had hoisted sail and put to sea today. This chain you had of me, can you deny it?


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I think I had: I never did deny it.


MERCHANT. Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Who heard me to deny it or forswear it?


MERCHANT. These ears of mine, thou know'st, did hear thee. Fie on thee, wretch. 'Tis pity that thou liv'st To walk where any honest men resort.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus; I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand.


MERCHANT. I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.


[They draw.]


Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtesan and others.


ADRIANA. Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake, he is mad. Some get within him, take his sword away. Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Run, master, run, for God's sake, take a house. This is some priory; in, or we are spoil'd.


[Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse to the priory.]


ABBESS. Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?


ADRIANA. To fetch my poor distracted husband hence. Let us come in, that we may bind him fast And bear him home for his recovery.


ANGELO. I knew he was not in his perfect wits.


MERCHANT. I am sorry now that I did draw on him.


ABBESS. How long hath this possession held the man?


ADRIANA. This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad, And much different from the man he was. But till this afternoon his passion Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.


ABBESS. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea? Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye Stray'd his affection in unlawful love? A sin prevailing much in youthful men Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing? Which of these sorrows is he subject to?


ADRIANA. To none of these, except it be the last, Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.


ABBESS. You should for that have reprehended him.


ABBESS. Ay, but not rough enough.


ADRIANA. As roughly as my modesty would let me.


ABBESS. Haply in private.


ADRIANA. And in assemblies too.


ABBESS. Ay, but not enough.


ADRIANA. It was the copy of our conference. In bed he slept not for my urging it; At board he fed not for my urging it; Alone, it was the subject of my theme; In company I often glanced it; Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.


ABBESS. And thereof came it that the man was mad. The venom clamours of a jealous woman Poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. It seems his sleeps were hindered by thy railing, And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say'st his meat was sauc'd with thy upbraidings. Unquiet meals make ill digestions; Thereof the raging fire of fever bred, And what's a fever but a fit of madness? Thou say'st his sports were hinder'd by thy brawls. Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue But moody and dull melancholy, Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair, And at her heels a huge infectious troop Of pale distemperatures and foes to life? In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest To be disturb'd would mad or man or beast. The consequence is, then, thy jealous fits Hath scar'd thy husband from the use of's wits.


LUCIANA. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himself rough, rude, and wildly. Why bear you these rebukes and answer not?


ADRIANA. She did betray me to my own reproof. Good people, enter and lay hold on him.


ABBESS. No, not a creature enters in my house.


ADRIANA. Then let your servants bring my husband forth.


ABBESS. Neither. He took this place for sanctuary, And it shall privilege him from your hands Till I have brought him to his wits again, Or lose my labour in assaying it.


ADRIANA. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, Diet his sickness, for it is my office, And will have no attorney but myself; And therefore let me have him home with me.


ABBESS. Be patient, for I will not let him stir Till I have used the approved means I have, With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers, To make of him a formal man again. It is a branch and parcel of mine oath, A charitable duty of my order; Therefore depart, and leave him here with me.


ADRIANA. I will not hence and leave my husband here; And ill it doth beseem your holiness To separate the husband and the wife.


ABBESS. Be quiet and depart. Thou shalt not have him.


LUCIANA. Complain unto the duke of this indignity.


ADRIANA. Come, go. I will fall prostrate at his feet, And never rise until my tears and prayers Have won his grace to come in person hither And take perforce my husband from the abbess.


MERCHANT. By this, I think, the dial points at five. Anon, I'm sure, the Duke himself in person Comes this way to the melancholy vale, The place of death and sorry execution Behind the ditches of the abbey here.


ANGELO. Upon what cause?


MERCHANT. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant, Who put unluckily into this bay Against the laws and statutes of this town, Beheaded publicly for his offence.


ANGELO. See where they come. We will behold his death.


LUCIANA. Kneel to the Duke before he pass the abbey.


Enter the Duke, attended; Egeon, bareheaded; with the Headsman and other Officers.


DUKE. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, If any friend will pay the sum for him, He shall not die; so much we tender him.


ADRIANA. Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess!


DUKE. She is a virtuous and a reverend lady, It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.


ADRIANA. May it please your grace, Antipholus, my husband, Who I made lord of me and all I had At your important letters, this ill day A most outrageous fit of madness took him; That desp'rately he hurried through the street, With him his bondman all as mad as he, Doing displeasure to the citizens By rushing in their houses, bearing thence Rings, jewels, anything his rage did like. Once did I get him bound and sent him home, Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went, That here and there his fury had committed. Anon, I wot not by what strong escape, He broke from those that had the guard of him, And with his mad attendant and himself, Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords, Met us again, and, madly bent on us, Chased us away; till raising of more aid, We came again to bind them. Then they fled Into this abbey, whither we pursued them. And here the abbess shuts the gates on us, And will not suffer us to fetch him out, Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence. Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command Let him be brought forth and borne hence for help.


DUKE. Long since thy husband serv'd me in my wars, And I to thee engag'd a prince's word, When thou didst make him master of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go, some of you, knock at the abbey gate, And bid the lady abbess come to me. I will determine this before I stir.


MESSENGER. O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself. My master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor, Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire, And ever as it blazed they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair. My master preaches patience to him, and the while His man with scissors nicks him like a fool; And sure (unless you send some present help) Between them they will kill the conjurer.


ADRIANA. Peace, fool, thy master and his man are here, And that is false thou dost report to us.


MESSENGER. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true. I have not breath'd almost since I did see it. He cries for you, and vows, if he can take you, To scorch your face and to disfigure you.


[Cry within.]


Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress. Fly, be gone!


DUKE. Come, stand by me, fear nothing. Guard with halberds.


ADRIANA. Ay me, it is my husband. Witness you That he is borne about invisible. Even now we hous'd him in the abbey here, And now he's there, past thought of human reason.


Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Ephesus.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Justice, most gracious duke; O, grant me justice! Even for the service that long since I did thee When I bestrid thee in the wars, and took Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.


EGEON. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, I see my son Antipholus and Dromio.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there. She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife; That hath abused and dishonour'd me Even in the strength and height of injury. Beyond imagination is the wrong That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.


DUKE. Discover how, and thou shalt find me just.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon me While she with harlots feasted in my house.


DUKE. A grievous fault. Say, woman, didst thou so?


ADRIANA. No, my good lord. Myself, he, and my sister Today did dine together. So befall my soul As this is false he burdens me withal.


LUCIANA. Ne'er may I look on day nor sleep on night But she tells to your highness simple truth.


ANGELO. O perjur'd woman! They are both forsworn. In this the madman justly chargeth them.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. My liege, I am advised what I say, Neither disturb'd with the effect of wine, Nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire, Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad. This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner. That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her, Could witness it, for he was with me then, Who parted with me to go fetch a chain, Promising to bring it to the Porpentine, Where Balthasar and I did dine together. Our dinner done, and he not coming thither, I went to seek him. In the street I met him, And in his company that gentleman. There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down That I this day of him receiv'd the chain, Which, God he knows, I saw not. For the which He did arrest me with an officer. I did obey, and sent my peasant home For certain ducats. He with none return'd. Then fairly I bespoke the officer To go in person with me to my house. By th' way we met My wife, her sister, and a rabble more Of vile confederates. Along with them They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller; A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch; A living dead man. This pernicious slave, Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer, And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, And with no face (as 'twere) outfacing me, Cries out, I was possess'd. Then altogether They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence, And in a dark and dankish vault at home There left me and my man, both bound together, Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom and immediately Ran hither to your Grace, whom I beseech To give me ample satisfaction For these deep shames and great indignities.


ANGELO. My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him, That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out.


DUKE. But had he such a chain of thee, or no?


ANGELO. He had, my lord, and when he ran in here These people saw the chain about his neck.


MERCHANT. Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine Heard you confess you had the chain of him, After you first forswore it on the mart, And thereupon I drew my sword on you; And then you fled into this abbey here, From whence I think you are come by miracle.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never came within these abbey walls, Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me. I never saw the chain, so help me heaven; And this is false you burden me withal.


DUKE. Why, what an intricate impeach is this! I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup. If here you hous'd him, here he would have been. If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly. You say he din'd at home, the goldsmith here Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porpentine.


COURTESAN. He did, and from my finger snatch'd that ring.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. 'Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of her.


DUKE. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?


COURTESAN. As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.


DUKE. Why, this is strange. Go call the abbess hither. I think you are all mated, or stark mad.


[Exit one to the Abbess.]


EGEON. Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word; Haply I see a friend will save my life And pay the sum that may deliver me.


DUKE. Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt.


EGEON. Is not your name, sir, call'd Antipholus? And is not that your bondman Dromio?


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Within this hour I was his bondman, sir, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords. Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound.


EGEON. I am sure you both of you remember me.


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you. For lately we were bound as you are now. You are not Pinch's patient, are you, sir?


EGEON. Why look you strange on me? you know me well.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never saw you in my life till now.


EGEON. O! grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last, And careful hours with time's deformed hand, Have written strange defeatures in my face. But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?


EGEON. Dromio, nor thou?


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not, and whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him.


EGEON. Not know my voice! O time's extremity, Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue In seven short years that here my only son Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares? Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, And all the conduits of my blood froze up, Yet hath my night of life some memory, My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left, My dull deaf ears a little use to hear. All these old witnesses, I cannot err, Tell me thou art my son Antipholus.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I never saw my father in my life.


EGEON. But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy, Thou know'st we parted; but perhaps, my son, Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. The duke and all that know me in the city, Can witness with me that it is not so. I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life.


DUKE. I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years Have I been patron to Antipholus, During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa. I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.


Enter the Abbess with Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse.


ABBESS. Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd.


[All gather to see them.]


ADRIANA. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.


DUKE. One of these men is genius to the other; And so of these, which is the natural man, And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. I, sir, am Dromio, command him away.


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. I, sir, am Dromio, pray let me stay.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. Egeon, art thou not? or else his ghost?


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. O, my old master, who hath bound him here?


ABBESS. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds, And gain a husband by his liberty. Speak, old Egeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once called Emilia, That bore thee at a burden two fair sons. O, if thou be'st the same Egeon, speak, And speak unto the same Emilia!


DUKE. Why, here begins his morning story right: These two Antipholus', these two so like, And these two Dromios, one in semblance, Besides her urging of her wreck at sea. These are the parents to these children, Which accidentally are met together.


EGEON. If I dream not, thou art Emilia. If thou art she, tell me where is that son That floated with thee on the fatal raft?


ABBESS. By men of Epidamnum, he and I And the twin Dromio, all were taken up; But, by and by, rude fishermen of Corinth By force took Dromio and my son from them, And me they left with those of Epidamnum. What then became of them I cannot tell; I to this fortune that you see me in.


DUKE. Antipholus, thou cam'st from Corinth first?


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. No, sir, not I, I came from Syracuse.


DUKE. Stay, stand apart, I know not which is which.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord.


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. And I with him.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior, Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.


ADRIANA. Which of you two did dine with me today?


ADRIANA. And are not you my husband?


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. And so do I, yet did she call me so; And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here, Did call me brother. What I told you then, I hope I shall have leisure to make good, If this be not a dream I see and hear.


ANGELO. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. I think it be, sir. I deny it not.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.


ANGELO. I think I did, sir. I deny it not.


ADRIANA. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail By Dromio, but I think he brought it not.


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. No, none by me.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me. I see we still did meet each other's man, And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, And thereupon these errors are arose.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. These ducats pawn I for my father here.


DUKE. It shall not need, thy father hath his life.


COURTESAN. Sir, I must have that diamond from you.


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. There, take it, and much thanks for my good cheer.


ABBESS. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains To go with us into the abbey here, And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes; And all that are assembled in this place, That by this sympathised one day's error Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company, And we shall make full satisfaction. Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail Of you, my sons, and till this present hour My heavy burden ne'er delivered. The duke, my husband, and my children both, And you, the calendars of their nativity, Go to a gossips' feast, and go with me. After so long grief, such nativity.


DUKE. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.


[Exeunt except the two Dromios and two Brothers.]


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard?


ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd?


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.


ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE. He speaks to me; I am your master, Dromio. Come, go with us. We'll look to that anon. Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.


[Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Antipholus of Ephesus.]


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. There is a fat friend at your master's house, That kitchen'd me for you today at dinner. She now shall be my sister, not my wife.


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother. I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth. Will you walk in to see their gossiping?


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. That's a question, how shall we try it?


DROMIO OF SYRACUSE. We'll draw cuts for the senior. Till then, lead thou first.


DROMIO OF EPHESUS. Nay, then, thus: We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.


ACT I Scene I. Rome. A street Scene II. Corioles. The Senate House Scene III. Rome. An apartment in Martius' house Scene IV. Before Corioles Scene V. Within Corioles. A street Scene VI. Near the camp of Cominius Scene VII. The gates of Corioles Scene VIII. A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps Scene IX. The Roman camp Scene X. The camp of the Volsces


ACT II Scene I. Rome. A public place Scene II. Rome. The Capitol Scene III. Rome. The Forum


ACT III Scene I. Rome. A street Scene II. Rome. A room in Coriolanus's house Scene III. Rome. The Forum


ACT IV Scene I. Rome. Before a gate of the city Scene II. Rome. A street near the gate Scene III. A highway between Rome and Antium Scene IV. Antium. Before Aufidius's house Scene V. Antium. A hall in Aufidius's house Scene VI. Rome. A public place Scene VII. A camp at a short distance from Rome


ACT V Scene I. Rome. A public place Scene II. An Advanced post of the Volscian camp before Rome. Scene III. The tent of Coriolanus Scene IV. Rome. A public place Scene V. Rome. A street near the gate Scene VI. Antium. A public place


CAIUS MARTIUS CORIOLANUS, a noble Roman VOLUMNIA, his mother VIRGILIA, his wife YOUNG MARTIUS, their son VALERIA, friend to Volumnia and Virgilia A GENTLEWOMAN, Volumnia's attendant


MENENIUS AGRIPPA, Friend to Coriolanus COMINIUS, General against the Volscians TITUS LARTIUS, General against the Volscians SICINIUS VELUTUS, Tribune of the People JUNIUS BRUTUS, Tribune of the People A ROMAN HERALD


TULLUS AUFIDIUS, General of the Volscians LIEUTENANT, to Aufidius Conspirators with Aufidius A CITIZEN of Antium TWO VOLSCIAN GUARDS


Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Aediles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants


SCENE: Partly in Rome, and partly in the territories of the Volscians and Antiates.


SCENE I. 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.


FIRST CITIZEN. You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?


FIRST CITIZEN. First, you know Caius Martius 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 Martius?


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' th' city is risen. Why stay we prating here? To th' Capitol!


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!


MENENIUS. What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.


FIRST CITIZEN. Our business is not unknown to th' 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 care Have the patricians of you. For your wants, Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them Against the Roman state, whose course will on The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs Of more strong link asunder than can ever Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, The gods, not the patricians, make it, and Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, You are transported by calamity Thither where more attends you, and you slander The 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 must confess yourselves wondrous malicious Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you A pretty tale. It may be you have heard it, But since it serves my purpose, I will venture To 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 members Rebelled against the belly, thus accused it: That only like a gulf it did remain I' th' midst o' th' body, idle and unactive, Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing Like labour with the rest, where th' other instruments Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, And, mutually participate, did minister Unto the appetite and affection common Of 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 smile As well as speak—it tauntingly replied To th' discontented members, the mutinous parts That envied his receipt; even so most fitly As you malign our senators for that They 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 helps Is 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 restrained, Who is the sink o' th' 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'st 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 answered: "True is it, my incorporate friends," quoth he, "That I receive the general food at first Which you do live upon; and fit it is, Because I am the storehouse and the shop Of the whole body. But, if you do remember, I send it through the rivers of your blood Even to the court, the heart, to th' seat o' th' brain; And, through the cranks and offices of man, The strongest nerves and small inferior veins From me receive that natural competency Whereby they live. And though that all at once, You, my good friends"—this says the belly, mark me—


MENENIUS. "Though all at once cannot See what I do deliver out to each, Yet I can make my audit up, that all From 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 examine Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly Touching the weal o' th' common, you shall find No public benefit which you receive But 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' th' lowest, basest, poorest, Of this most wise rebellion, thou goest 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.


MARTIUS. Thanks.—What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, Make yourselves scabs?


FIRST CITIZEN. We have ever your good word.


MARTIUS. He that will give good words to thee will flatter Beneath 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 ice Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is To make him worthy whose offence subdues him, And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness Deserves your hate; and your affections are A sick man's appetite, who desires most that Which would increase his evil. He that depends Upon 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 city You cry against the noble senate, who, Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else Would feed on one another?—What's their seeking?


MENENIUS. For corn at their own rates, whereof they say The city is well stored.


MARTIUS. Hang 'em! They say? They'll sit by th' fire and presume to know What's done i' th' Capitol, who's like to rise, Who thrives and who declines; side factions and give out Conjectural marriages, making parties strong And feebling such as stand not in their liking Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's grain enough? Would the nobility lay aside their ruth And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry With thousands of these quartered slaves as high As 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?


MARTIUS. They are dissolved. Hang 'em! They said they were an-hungry, sighed forth proverbs That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not Corn for the rich men only. With these shreds They vented their complainings, which being answered And a petition granted them—a strange one, To break the heart of generosity And make bold power look pale—they threw their caps As they would hang them on the horns o' th' moon, Shouting their emulation.


MENENIUS. What is granted them?


MARTIUS. 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 unroofed the city Ere so prevailed with me. It will in time Win upon power and throw forth greater themes For insurrection's arguing.


MENENIUS. This is strange.


Enter a Messenger hastily.


MESSENGER. Where's Caius Martius?


MARTIUS. Here. What's the matter?


MESSENGER. The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.


MARTIUS. I am glad on't. Then we shall ha' means to vent Our musty superfluity.


Enter Sicinius Velutus, Junius Brutus, two Tribunes; Cominius, Titus Lartius with other Senators.


FIRST SENATOR. Martius, 'tis true that you have lately told us: The Volsces are in arms.


MARTIUS. 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.


MARTIUS. Were half to half the world by th' ears and he Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make Only my wars with him. He is a lion That I am proud to hunt.


FIRST SENATOR. Then, worthy Martius, Attend upon Cominius to these wars.


COMINIUS. It is your former promise.


MARTIUS. Sir, it is, And I am constant.—Titus Lartius, thou Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. What, art thou stiff? Stand'st out?


TITUS LARTIUS. No, Caius Martius, I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with th' other Ere stay behind this business.


MENENIUS. O, true bred!


FIRST SENATOR. Your company to th' Capitol, where I know Our greatest friends attend us.


TITUS LARTIUS. Lead you on. Follow Cominius. We must follow you; Right worthy your priority.


FIRST SENATOR. [To the Citizens.] Hence to your homes, begone.


MARTIUS. Nay, let them follow. The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutineers, Your valour puts well forth. Pray follow.


[Exeunt. Sicinius and Brutus remain.]


SICINIUS. Was ever man so proud as is this Martius?


SICINIUS. When we were chosen tribunes for the people—


BRUTUS. Marked you his lip and eyes?


SICINIUS. Nay, but his taunts.


BRUTUS. Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.


SICINIUS. Bemock the modest moon.


BRUTUS. The present wars devour him! He is grown Too proud to be so valiant.


SICINIUS. Such a nature, Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder His insolence can brook to be commanded Under Cominius.


BRUTUS. Fame, at the which he aims, In whom already he's well graced, cannot Better be held nor more attained than by A place below the first; for what miscarries Shall be the General's fault, though he perform To th' utmost of a man, and giddy censure Will then cry out of Martius "O, if he Had borne the business!"


SICINIUS. Besides, if things go well, Opinion that so sticks on Martius shall Of his demerits rob Cominius.


BRUTUS. Come. Half all Cominius' honours are to Martius, Though Martius earned them not, and all his faults To Martius shall be honours, though indeed In aught he merit not.


SICINIUS. Let's hence and hear How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, More than in singularity, he goes Upon this present action.


SCENE II. Corioles. The Senate House


Enter Tullus Aufidius with Senators of Corioles.


FIRST SENATOR. So, your opinion is, Aufidius, That they of Rome are entered in our counsels And 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 Rome Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone Since I heard thence. These are the words—I think I have the letter here. Yes, here it is. [Reads.] They have pressed a power, but it is not known Whether for east or west. The dearth is great. The people mutinous; and, it is rumoured, Cominius, Martius your old enemy, Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,— And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, These three lead on this preparation Whither '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 ready To answer us.


AUFIDIUS. Nor did you think it folly To keep your great pretences veiled till when They needs must show themselves, which, in the hatching, It seemed, appeared to Rome. By the discovery We shall be shortened in our aim, which was To take in many towns ere almost Rome Should know we were afoot.


SECOND SENATOR. Noble Aufidius, Take your commission; hie you to your bands. Let us alone to guard Corioles. If they set down before's, for the remove Bring up your army. But I think you'll find They'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 Martius chance to meet, 'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike Till one can do no more.


ALL. The gods assist you!


SCENE III. Rome. An apartment in Martius' house


Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife to Martius. They set them 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 plucked 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 like 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 Martius, 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 th' 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 fear, Though you were born in Rome." His bloody brow With his mailed hand then wiping, forth he goes Like to a harvestman that's tasked to mow Or all or lose his hire.


VIRGILIA. His bloody brow? O Jupiter, no blood!


VOLUMNIA. Away, you fool! It more becomes a man Than gilt his trophy. The breasts of Hecuba, When she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelier Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood At Grecian sword, contemning.—Tell Valeria We are fit to bid her welcome.


VIRGILIA. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!


VOLUMNIA. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee And tread upon his neck.


Enter Valeria with an Usher and a Gentlewoman.


VALERIA. My ladies both, good day to you.


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. H'as 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.


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?


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.


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 Corioles. 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.—Prithee, 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.


SCENE IV. Before Corioles


Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with drum and colours, with Captains and Soldiers, as before the city of Corioles. To them a Messenger.


MARTIUS. Yonder comes news. A wager they have met.


LARTIUS. My horse to yours, no.


LARTIUS. Agreed.


MARTIUS. [To Messenger.] 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.


MARTIUS. I'll buy him of you.


LARTIUS. No, I'll nor sell nor give him. Lend you him I will For half a hundred years.—Summon the town.


MARTIUS. How far off lie these armies?


MESSENGER. Within this mile and half.


MARTIUS. Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, That we with smoking swords may march from hence To help our fielded friends!—Come, blow thy blast.


[They sound a parley.]


Enter two Senators with others on the walls of Corioles.


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 drums Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls Rather than they shall pound us up. Our gates, Which yet seem shut, we have but pinned with rushes. They'll open of themselves. [Alarum far off.] Hark you, far off! There is Aufidius. List what work he makes Amongst your cloven army.


MARTIUS. O, they are at it!


LARTIUS. Their noise be our instruction.—Ladders, ho!


Enter the Army of the Volsces as through the city gates.


MARTIUS. They fear us not but issue forth their city.— Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight With 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. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. They exit, with the Volsces following.]


Enter Martius cursing, with Roman soldiers.


MARTIUS. All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! You herd of—Boils and plagues Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorred Farther than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, That bear the shapes of men, how have you run From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! All hurt behind. Backs red, and faces pale With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge home, Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe And 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. Follow's!


[Another alarum. The Volsces re-enter and are driven back to the gates of Corioles, which open to admit them.]


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.


[Martius follows the fleeing Volsces through the gates, and is shut in.]


FIRST SOLDIER. Foolhardiness, not I.


SECOND SOLDIER. Nor I.


FIRST SOLDIER. See, they have shut him in.


ALL. To th' pot, I warrant him.


LARTIUS. What is become of Martius?


FIRST SOLDIER. Following the fliers at the very heels, With them he enters, who upon the sudden Clapped to their gates. He is himself alone, To answer all the city.


LARTIUS. O noble fellow, Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, And when it bows, stand'st up! Thou art left, Martius. A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible Only in strokes, but with thy grim looks and The thunderlike percussion of thy sounds Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous and did tremble.


Enter Martius, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy.


LARTIUS. O, 'tis Martius! Let's fetch him off or make remain alike.


[They fight, and all enter the city.]


SCENE V. Within Corioles. 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.


Enter Martius and Titus Lartius with a Trumpet.


MARTIUS. See here these movers that do prize their hours At a cracked drachma. Cushions, leaden spoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, Ere yet the fight be done, pack up. Down with them!


[Exit the Romans with spoils.]


[Alarum continues still afar off.]


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, take Convenient numbers to make good the city, Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste To help Cominius.


LARTIUS. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st. Thy exercise hath been too violent For a second course of fight.


MARTIUS. Sir, praise me not. My work hath yet not warmed me. Fare you well. The blood I drop is rather physical Than dangerous to me. To Aufidius thus I will appear and fight.


LARTIUS. Now the fair goddess Fortune Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, Prosperity be thy page!


MARTIUS. Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So farewell.


LARTIUS. Thou worthiest Martius!


Go sound thy trumpet in the marketplace. Call thither all the officers o' th' town, Where they shall know our mind. Away!


SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius


Enter Cominius as it were in retire, with Soldiers.


COMINIUS. Breathe you, my friends. Well fought! We are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands Nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs, We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, By interims and conveying gusts we have heard The charges of our friends. The Roman gods Lead their successes as we wish our own, That both our powers, with smiling fronts encount'ring, May give you thankful sacrifice!


Thy news?


MESSENGER. The citizens of Corioles have issued, And given to Lartius and to Martius battle. I saw our party to their trenches driven, And then I came away.


COMINIUS. Though thou speakest 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 Volsces Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel Three or four miles about; else had I, sir, Half an hour since brought my report.


Enter Martius, bloody.


COMINIUS. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flayed? O gods, He has the stamp of Martius, and I have Before-time seen him thus.


MARTIUS. Come I too late?


COMINIUS. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor More than I know the sound of Martius' tongue From every meaner man.


COMINIUS. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own.


MARTIUS. O, let me clip you In arms as sound as when I wooed, in heart As merry as when our nuptial day was done And tapers burned to bedward!


COMINIUS. Flower of warriors, how is't with Titus Lartius?


MARTIUS. As with a man busied about decrees, Condemning some to death and some to exile; Ransoming him or pitying, threat'ning the other; Holding Corioles in the name of Rome Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, To let him slip at will.


COMINIUS. Where is that slave Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Where's he? Call him hither.


MARTIUS. 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 budge From rascals worse than they.


COMINIUS. But how prevailed you?


MARTIUS. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. Where is the enemy? Are you lords o' th' field? If not, why cease you till you are so?


COMINIUS. Martius, we have at disadvantage fought, And did retire to win our purpose.


MARTIUS. How lies their battle? Know you on which side They have placed their men of trust?


COMINIUS. As I guess, Martius, Their bands i' th' vaward are the Antiates, Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, Their very heart of hope.


MARTIUS. I do beseech you, By all the battles wherein we have fought, By th' blood we have shed together, by th' vows we have made To endure friends, that you directly set me Against Aufidius and his Antiates, And that you not delay the present, but, Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, We prove this very hour.


COMINIUS. Though I could wish You were conducted to a gentle bath And balms applied to you, yet dare I never Deny your asking. Take your choice of those That best can aid your action.


MARTIUS. Those are they That most are willing. If any such be here— As it were sin to doubt—that love this painting Wherein you see me smeared; if any fear Lesser 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 to express his disposition And follow Martius.


[He waves his sword.]


[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 you But is four Volsces? None of you but is Able to bear against the great Aufidius A shield as hard as his. A certain number, Though thanks to all, must I select from all. The rest shall bear the business in some other fight, As cause will be obeyed. Please you to march, And I shall quickly draw out my command, Which men are best inclined.


COMINIUS. March on, my fellows. Make good this ostentation, and you shall Divide in all with us.


SCENE VII. The gates of Corioles


Titus Lartius, having set a guard upon Corioles, going with drum and trumpet toward Cominius and Caius Martius, enters with a Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout.


LARTIUS. So, let the ports be guarded. Keep your duties As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve For a short holding. If we lose the field, We cannot keep the town.


LIEUTENANT. Fear not our care, sir.


LARTIUS. Hence, and shut your gates upon's. Our guider, come. To th' Roman camp conduct us.


SCENE VIII. A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps


Alarum, as in battle. Enter Martius and Aufidius at several doors.


MARTIUS. I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee Worse than a promise-breaker.


AUFIDIUS. We hate alike. Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.


MARTIUS. Let the first budger die the other's slave, And the gods doom him after!


AUFIDIUS. If I fly, Martius, Hollo me like a hare.


MARTIUS. Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioles' walls, And made what work I pleased. 'Tis not my blood Wherein thou seest me masked. For thy revenge Wrench up thy power to th' highest.


AUFIDIUS. Wert thou the Hector That was the whip of your bragged progeny, Thou shouldst not scape me here.


[Here they fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of Aufidius.]


Officious and not valiant, you have shamed me In your condemned seconds.


[Martius fights till they be driven in breathless. Aufidius and Martius exit, separately.]


SCENE IX. The Roman camp


Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, at one door, Cominius with the Romans; at another door, Martius, with his arm in a scarf.


COMINIUS. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, Thou't not believe thy deeds. But I'll report it Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, I' th' end admire; where ladies shall be frighted And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the dull tribunes, That with the fusty plebeians hate thine honours, Shall say against their hearts "We thank the gods Our 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—


MARTIUS. Pray now, no more. My mother, Who has a charter to extol her blood, When she does praise me grieves me. I have done As you have done—that's what I can; Induced as you have been—that's for my country. He that has but effected his good will Hath overta'en mine act.


COMINIUS. You shall not be The grave of your deserving. Rome must know The value of her own. 'Twere a concealment Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, To hide your doings and to silence that Which, to the spire and top of praises vouched, Would seem but modest. Therefore, I beseech you— In sign of what you are, not to reward What you have done—before our army hear me.


MARTIUS. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remembered.


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 all The treasure in this field achieved and city, We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth Before the common distribution At your only choice.


MARTIUS. I thank you, general, But cannot make my heart consent to take A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it; And stand upon my common part with those That have beheld the doing.


[A long flourish. They all cry "Martius, Martius!" and cast up their caps and lances. Cominius and Lartius stand bare.]


May these same instruments which, you profane, Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall I' th' field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be Made all of false-faced soothing! When steel grows soft Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made An ovator for the wars! No more, I say. For that I have not washed my nose that bled, Or foiled 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 dieted In praises sauced with lies.


COMINIUS. Too modest are you, More cruel to your good report than grateful To us that give you truly. By your patience, If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, 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 Martius Wears 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 Corioles, call him, With all th' applause and clamour of the host, Caius Martius Coriolanus! Bear Th' addition nobly ever!


[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums.]


CORIOLANUS. I will go wash; And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush or no. Howbeit, I thank you. I mean to stride your steed and at all times To undercrest your good addition To th' fairness of my power.


COMINIUS. So, to our tent, Where, ere we do repose us, we will write To Rome of our success.—You, Titus Lartius, Must to Corioles back. Send us to Rome The best, with whom we may articulate For their own good and ours.


LARTIUS. I shall, my lord.


CORIOLANUS. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg Of my lord general.


COMINIUS. Take't, 'tis yours. What is't?


CORIOLANUS. I sometime lay here in Corioles At 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 you To give my poor host freedom.


COMINIUS. O, well begged! Were he the butcher of my son, he should Be free as is the wind.—Deliver him, Titus.


LARTIUS. Martius, his name?


CORIOLANUS. By Jupiter, forgot! I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. Have we no wine here?


COMINIUS. Go we to our tent. The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time It should be looked to. Come.


[A flourish of cornets. Exeunt.]


SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces


A flourish. Cornets. Enter Tullus Aufidius, bloody, with two or three soldiers.


AUFIDIUS. The town is ta'en.


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 find I' th' part that is at mercy? Five times, Martius, I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter As often as we eat. By th' elements, If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, He's mine or I am his. Mine emulation Hath not that honour in't it had; for where I 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.


SOLDIER. He's the devil.


AUFIDIUS. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poisoned With only suff'ring stain by him; for him Shall 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 up Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst My hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, Against the hospitable canon, would I Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' city; Learn how 'tis held and what they are that must Be hostages for Rome.


AUFIDIUS. I am attended at the cypress grove. I pray you— 'Tis south the city mills,—bring me word thither How the world goes, that to the pace of it I may spur on my journey.


SOLDIER. I shall, sir.


Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius and Brutus.


MENENIUS. The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight.


MENENIUS. Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Martius.


SICINIUS. Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.


MENENIUS. Pray you, who does the wolf love?


SICINIUS. The lamb.


MENENIUS. Ay, to devour him, as the hungry plebeians would the noble Martius.


BRUTUS. He's a lamb indeed, that baas like a bear.


MENENIUS. He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.


MENENIUS. In what enormity is Martius poor in, that you two have not in abundance?


BRUTUS. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.


BRUTUS. And topping all others in boasting.


MENENIUS. This is strange now. Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' th' right-hand file, do you?


BOTH TRIBUNES. Why, how are we censured?


MENENIUS. Because you talk of pride now, will you not be angry?


MENENIUS. Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. Give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasures, at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame Martius for being proud.


BRUTUS. We do it not alone, sir.


MENENIUS. I know you can do very little alone, for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single. Your abilities are too infantlike for doing much alone. You talk of pride. O that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O, that you could!


BOTH TRIBUNES. What then, sir?


MENENIUS. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as any in Rome.


SICINIUS. Menenius, you are known well enough, too.


MENENIUS. I am known to be a humorous patrician and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in favouring the first complaint, hasty and tinder-like upon too trivial motion; one that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning. What I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as you are—I cannot call you Lycurguses—if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot say your Worships have delivered the matter well when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables. And though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough, too?


BRUTUS. Come, sir, come; we know you well enough.


MENENIUS. You know neither me, yourselves, nor anything. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs. You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange-wife and a faucet-seller, and then rejourn the controversy of threepence to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing. All the peace you make in their cause is calling both the parties knaves. You are a pair of strange ones.


BRUTUS. Come, come. You are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.


MENENIUS. Our very priests must become mockers if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards, and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's cushion or to be entombed in an ass's packsaddle. Yet you must be saying Martius is proud, who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. Good e'en to your Worships. More of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave of you.


[He begins to exit. Brutus and Sicinius stand aside.]


How now, my as fair as noble ladies—and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler—whither do you follow your eyes so fast?


VOLUMNIA. Honourable Menenius, my boy Martius approaches. For the love of Juno, let's go!


MENENIUS. Ha? Martius coming home?


VOLUMNIA. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation.


MENENIUS. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee! Hoo! Martius coming home?


VALERIA, VIRGILIA. Nay, 'tis true.


VOLUMNIA. Look, here's a letter from him. The state hath another, his wife another, and I think there's one at home for you.


MENENIUS. I will make my very house reel tonight. A letter for me?


VIRGILIA. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it.


MENENIUS. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years' health, in which time I will make a lip at the physician. The most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse drench. Is he not wounded? He was wont to come home wounded.


VOLUMNIA. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't.


MENENIUS. So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings he victory in his pocket, the wounds become him.


VOLUMNIA. On's brows, Menenius. He comes the third time home with the oaken garland.


MENENIUS. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?


VOLUMNIA. Titus Lartius writes they fought together, but Aufidius got off.


MENENIUS. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that. An he had stayed by him, I would not have been so 'fidiused for all the chests in Corioles and the gold that's in them. Is the Senate possessed of this?


VOLUMNIA. Good ladies, let's go.—Yes, yes, yes. The Senate has letters from the General, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war. He hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.


VALERIA. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.


MENENIUS. Wondrous? Ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.


VIRGILIA. The gods grant them true.


MENENIUS. True? I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? [To the Tribunes.] God save your good Worships! Martius is coming home; he has more cause to be proud.—Where is he wounded?


VOLUMNIA. I' th' shoulder and i' th' left arm. There will be large cicatrices to show the people when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' th' body.


MENENIUS. One i' th' neck and two i' th' thigh—there's nine that I know.


VOLUMNIA. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.


MENENIUS. Now it's twenty-seven. Every gash was an enemy's grave.


[A shout and flourish.]


Hark, the trumpets!


VOLUMNIA. These are the ushers of Martius: before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie, Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.


Enter Cominius the General and Titus Lartius, between them Coriolanus crowned with an oaken garland, with Captains and Soldiers and a Herald. Trumpets sound.


HERALD. Know, Rome, that all alone Martius did fight Within Corioles' gates, where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Martius; these In honour follows "Coriolanus." Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.


[Sound flourish.]


ALL. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!


CORIOLANUS. No more of this, it does offend my heart. Pray now, no more.


COMINIUS. Look, sir, your mother.


CORIOLANUS. O, You have, I know, petitioned all the gods For my prosperity.


VOLUMNIA. Nay, my good soldier, up.


My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, and By deed-achieving honour newly named— What is it? Coriolanus must I call thee? But, O, thy wife—


CORIOLANUS. My gracious silence, hail. Wouldst thou have laughed had I come coffined home, That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, Such eyes the widows in Corioles wear And mothers that lack sons.


MENENIUS. Now the gods crown thee!


CORIOLANUS. And live you yet? [To Valeria] O my sweet lady, pardon.


VOLUMNIA. I know not where to turn. O, welcome home! And welcome, general.—And you're welcome all.


MENENIUS. A hundred thousand welcomes! I could weep, And I could laugh; I am light and heavy. Welcome. A curse begin at very root on's heart That is not glad to see thee! You are three That Rome should dote on; yet, by the faith of men, We have some old crab trees here at home that will not Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors! We call a nettle but a nettle, and The faults of fools but folly.


COMINIUS. Ever right.


HERALD. Give way there, and go on!


CORIOLANUS. [To Volumnia and Virgilia.] Your hand, and yours. Ere in our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited, From whom I have received not only greetings, But with them change of honours.


VOLUMNIA. I have lived To see inherited my very wishes And the buildings of my fancy. Only There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but Our Rome will cast upon thee.


CORIOLANUS. Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way Than sway with them in theirs.


COMINIUS. On, to the Capitol.


[Flourish of cornets. Exeunt in state, as before.]


Brutus and Sicinius come forward.


BRUTUS. All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry While she chats him. The kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clamb'ring the walls to eye him. Stalls, bulks, windows Are smothered up, leads filled, and ridges horsed With variable complexions, all agreeing In earnestness to see him. Seld-shown flamens Do press among the popular throngs and puff To win a vulgar station. Our veiled dames Commit the war of white and damask in Their nicely-gauded cheeks to th' wanton spoil Of Phoebus' burning kisses. Such a pother, As if that whatsoever god who leads him Were slyly crept into his human powers And gave him graceful posture.


SICINIUS. On the sudden I warrant him consul.


BRUTUS. Then our office may, During his power, go sleep.


SICINIUS. He cannot temp'rately transport his honours From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won.


BRUTUS. In that there's comfort.


SICINIUS. Doubt not the commoners, for whom we stand, But they, upon their ancient malice will forget With the least cause these his new honours—which That he will give them make as little question As he is proud to do't.


BRUTUS. I heard him swear, Were he to stand for consul, never would he Appear i' th' marketplace nor on him put The napless vesture of humility, Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds To th' people, beg their stinking breaths.


SICINIUS. 'Tis right.


BRUTUS. It was his word. O, he would miss it rather Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him And the desire of the nobles.


SICINIUS. I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose and to put it In execution.


BRUTUS. 'Tis most like he will.


SICINIUS. It shall be to him then, as our good wills, A sure destruction.


BRUTUS. So it must fall out To him, or our authorities for an end. We must suggest the people in what hatred He still hath held them; that to's power he would Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders, and Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them In human action and capacity Of no more soul nor fitness for the world Than camels in their war, who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them.


SICINIUS. This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall touch the people—which time shall not want If it be put upon't, and that's as easy As to set dogs on sheep—will be his fire To kindle their dry stubble, and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.


BRUTUS. What's the matter?


MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought That Martius shall be consul. I have seen The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind to hear him speak; matrons flung gloves, Ladies and maids their scarves and handkerchiefs, Upon him as he passed; the nobles bended As to Jove's statue, and the Commons made A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts. I never saw the like.


BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol; And carry with us ears and eyes for th' time, But hearts for the event.


SICINIUS. Have with you.


SCENE II. Rome. The Capitol


Enter two Officers, to lay cushions, as it were in the Capitol.


FIRST OFFICER. Come, come. They are almost here. How many stand for consulships?


SECOND OFFICER. Three, they say; but 'tis thought of everyone Coriolanus will carry it.


FIRST OFFICER. That's a brave fellow, but he's vengeance proud and loves not the common people.


SECOND OFFICER. 'Faith, there have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them; and there be many that they have loved they know not wherefore; so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground. Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate him manifests the true knowledge he has in their disposition and, out of his noble carelessness, lets them plainly see't.


FIRST OFFICER. If he did not care whether he had their love or no, he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither good nor harm; but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can render it him and leaves nothing undone that may fully discover him their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.


SECOND OFFICER. He hath deserved worthily of his country, and his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, without any further deed to have them at all into their estimation and report; but he hath so planted his honours in their eyes and his actions in their hearts that for their tongues to be silent and not confess so much were a kind of ingrateful injury. To report otherwise were a malice that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.


FIRST OFFICER. No more of him; he's a worthy man. Make way. They are coming.


A sennet. Enter the Patricians and the Tribunes of the people, Lictors before them; Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius the consul. The Patricians sit. Sicinius and Brutus take their places by themselves. Coriolanus stands.


MENENIUS. Having determined of the Volsces and To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, As the main point of this our after-meeting, To gratify his noble service that Hath thus stood for his country. Therefore please you, Most reverend and grave elders, to desire The present consul and last general In our well-found successes to report A little of that worthy work performed By Martius Caius Coriolanus, whom We met here both to thank and to remember With honours like himself.


FIRST SENATOR. Speak, good Cominius. Leave nothing out for length, and make us think Rather our state's defective for requital, Than we to stretch it out. Masters o' th' people, We do request your kindest ears and, after, Your loving motion toward the common body To yield what passes here.


SICINIUS. We are convented Upon a pleasing treaty and have hearts Inclinable to honour and advance The theme of our assembly.


BRUTUS. Which the rather We shall be blest to do if he remember A kinder value of the people than He hath hereto prized them at.


MENENIUS. That's off, that's off! I would you rather had been silent. Please you To hear Cominius speak?


BRUTUS. Most willingly. But yet my caution was more pertinent Than the rebuke you give it.


MENENIUS. He loves your people, But tie him not to be their bedfellow.— Worthy Cominius, speak.


[Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away.]


Nay, keep your place.


FIRST SENATOR. Sit, Coriolanus. Never shame to hear What you have nobly done.


CORIOLANUS. Your Honours, pardon. I had rather have my wounds to heal again Than hear say how I got them.


BRUTUS. Sir, I hope My words disbenched you not?


CORIOLANUS. No, sir. Yet oft, When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. You soothed not, therefore hurt not; but your people, I love them as they weigh.


MENENIUS. Pray now, sit down.


CORIOLANUS. I had rather have one scratch my head i' th' sun When the alarum were struck than idly sit To hear my nothings monstered.


MENENIUS. Masters of the people, Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter— That's thousand to one good one—when you now see He had rather venture all his limbs for honour Than one on's ears to hear it?—Proceed, Cominius.


COMINIUS. I shall lack voice. The deeds of Coriolanus Should not be uttered feebly. It is held That valour is the chiefest virtue and Most dignifies the haver; if it be, The man I speak of cannot in the world Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought Beyond the mark of others. Our then dictator, Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight When with his Amazonian chin he drove The bristled lips before him. He bestrid An o'erpressed Roman and i' th' Consul's view Slew three opposers. Tarquin's self he met And struck him on his knee. In that day's feats, When he might act the woman in the scene, He proved best man i' th' field and for his meed Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age Man-entered thus, he waxed like a sea, And in the brunt of seventeen battles since He lurched all swords of the garland. For this last, Before and in Corioles, let me say, I cannot speak him home. He stopped the flyers And by his rare example made the coward Turn terror into sport. As weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obeyed And fell below his stem. His sword, Death's stamp, Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot He was a thing of blood, whose every motion Was timed with dying cries. Alone he entered The mortal gate o' th' city, which he painted With shunless destiny; aidless came off And with a sudden reinforcement struck Corioles like a planet. Now all's his, When by and by the din of war gan pierce His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit Requickened what in flesh was fatigate, And to the battle came he, where he did Run reeking o'er the lives of men as if 'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we called Both field and city ours, he never stood To ease his breast with panting.


MENENIUS. Worthy man!


FIRST SENATOR. He cannot but with measure fit the honours Which we devise him.


COMINIUS. Our spoils he kicked at; And looked upon things precious as they were The common muck of the world. He covets less Than misery itself would give, rewards His deeds with doing them, and is content To spend the time to end it.


MENENIUS. He's right noble. Let him be called for.


FIRST SENATOR. Call Coriolanus.


OFFICER. He doth appear.


Enter Coriolanus.


MENENIUS. The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased To make thee consul.


CORIOLANUS. I do owe them still My life and services.


MENENIUS. It then remains That you do speak to the people.


CORIOLANUS. I do beseech you Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them For my wounds' sake to give their suffrage. Please you That I may pass this doing.


SICINIUS. Sir, the people Must have their voices; neither will they bate One jot of ceremony.


MENENIUS. Put them not to't. Pray you, go fit you to the custom, and Take to you, as your predecessors have, Your honour with your form.


CORIOLANUS. It is a part That I shall blush in acting, and might well Be taken from the people.


BRUTUS. Mark you that?


CORIOLANUS. To brag unto them, "thus I did, and thus!" Show them th' unaching scars which I should hide, As if I had received them for the hire Of their breath only!


MENENIUS. Do not stand upon't.— We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, Our purpose to them, and to our noble consul Wish we all joy and honour.


SENATORS. To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!


[Flourish cornets. Exeunt all but Sicinius and Brutus.]


BRUTUS. You see how he intends to use the people.


SICINIUS. May they perceive's intent! He will require them As if he did contemn what he requested Should be in them to give.


BRUTUS. Come, we'll inform them Of our proceedings here. On th' marketplace I know they do attend us.


SCENE III. Rome. The Forum


FIRST CITIZEN. Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.


THIRD CITIZEN. We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a power that we have no power to do; for, if he show us his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our tongues into those wounds and speak for them. So, if he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude, of the which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.


FIRST CITIZEN. And to make us no better thought of, a little help will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude.


THIRD CITIZEN. We have been called so of many; not that our heads are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, but that our wits are so diversely coloured; and truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, and their consent of one direct way should be at once to all the points o' th' compass.


SECOND CITIZEN. Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would fly?


THIRD CITIZEN. Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's will; 'tis strongly wedged up in a blockhead. But if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward.


SECOND CITIZEN. Why that way?


THIRD CITIZEN. To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return for conscience' sake, to help to get thee a wife.


SECOND CITIZEN. You are never without your tricks. You may, you may.


THIRD CITIZEN. Are you all resolved to give your voices? But that's no matter; the greater part carries it. I say, if he would incline to the people, there was never a worthier man.


Enter Coriolanus in a gown of humility, with Menenius.


Here he comes, and in the gown of humility. Mark his behaviour. We are not to stay all together, but to come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and by threes. He's to make his requests by particulars, wherein everyone of us has a single honour in giving him our own voices with our own tongues. Therefore follow me, and I'll direct you how you shall go by him.


MENENIUS. O sir, you are not right. Have you not known The worthiest men have done't?


CORIOLANUS. What must I say? "I pray, sir"—plague upon't! I cannot bring My tongue to such a pace. "Look, sir, my wounds! I got them in my country's service when Some certain of your brethren roared and ran From th' noise of our own drums."


MENENIUS. O me, the gods! You must not speak of that. You must desire them To think upon you.


CORIOLANUS. Think upon me! Hang 'em! I would they would forget me, like the virtues Which our divines lose by 'em.


MENENIUS. You'll mar all. I'll leave you. Pray you speak to 'em, I pray you, In wholesome manner.


CORIOLANUS. Bid them wash their faces And keep their teeth clean.


Enter three of the Citizens.


So, here comes a brace. You know the cause, sirs, of my standing here.


THIRD CITIZEN. We do, sir. Tell us what hath brought you to't.


SECOND CITIZEN. Your own desert?


CORIOLANUS. Ay, but not mine own desire.


THIRD CITIZEN. How, not your own desire?


CORIOLANUS. No, sir, 'twas never my desire yet to trouble the poor with begging.


THIRD CITIZEN. You must think if we give you anything, we hope to gain by you.


CORIOLANUS. Well then, I pray, your price o' th' consulship?


FIRST CITIZEN. The price is to ask it kindly.


CORIOLANUS. Kindly, sir, I pray, let me ha't. I have wounds to show you, which shall be yours in private.—Your good voice, sir. What say you?


SECOND CITIZEN. You shall ha' it, worthy sir.


CORIOLANUS. A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices begged. I have your alms. Adieu.


THIRD CITIZEN. But this is something odd.


SECOND CITIZEN. An 'twere to give again—but 'tis no matter.


[Exeunt two citizens.]


Enter two other Citizens.


CORIOLANUS. Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your voices that I may be consul, I have here the customary gown.


FOURTH CITIZEN. You have deserved nobly of your country, and you have not deserved nobly.


FOURTH CITIZEN. You have been a scourge to her enemies; you have been a rod to her friends. You have not indeed loved the common people.


CORIOLANUS. You should account me the more virtuous that I have not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account gentle. And since the wisdom of their choice is rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod and be off to them most counterfeitly. That is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment of some popular man and give it bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, I may be consul.


FIFTH CITIZEN. We hope to find you our friend, and therefore give you our voices heartily.


FOURTH CITIZEN. You have received many wounds for your country.


CORIOLANUS. I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I will make much of your voices and so trouble you no farther.


BOTH CITIZENS. The gods give you joy, sir, heartily.


CORIOLANUS. Most sweet voices! Better it is to die, better to starve, Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. Why in this wolvish toge should I stand here To beg of Hob and Dick that does appear Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't. What custom wills, in all things should we do't? The dust on antique time would lie unswept And mountainous error be too highly heaped For truth to o'erpeer. Rather than fool it so, Let the high office and the honour go To one that would do thus. I am half through; The one part suffered, the other will I do.


Enter three Citizens more.


Here come more voices. Your voices! For your voices I have fought; Watched for your voices; for your voices bear Of wounds two dozen odd. Battles thrice six I have seen and heard of; for your voices have Done many things, some less, some more. Your voices! Indeed, I would be consul.


SIXTH CITIZEN. He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest man's voice.


SEVENTH CITIZEN. Therefore let him be consul. The gods give him joy, and make him good friend to the people!


ALL THREE CITIZENS. Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul.


CORIOLANUS. Worthy voices!


Enter Menenius with Brutus and Sicinius.


MENENIUS. You have stood your limitation, and the Tribunes Endue you with the people's voice. Remains That in th' official marks invested, you Anon do meet the Senate.


CORIOLANUS. Is this done?


SICINIUS. The custom of request you have discharged. The people do admit you, and are summoned To meet anon upon your approbation.


CORIOLANUS. Where? At the Senate House?


SICINIUS. There, Coriolanus.


CORIOLANUS. May I change these garments?


CORIOLANUS. That I'll straight do and, knowing myself again, Repair to th' Senate House.


MENENIUS. I'll keep you company.—Will you along?


BRUTUS. We stay here for the people.


He has it now; and by his looks, methinks, 'Tis warm at his heart.


BRUTUS. With a proud heart he wore His humble weeds. Will you dismiss the people?


Enter the Pebleians.


SICINIUS. How now, my masters, have you chose this man?


FIRST CITIZEN. He has our voices, sir.


BRUTUS. We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.


SECOND CITIZEN. Amen, sir. To my poor unworthy notice, He mocked us when he begged our voices.


THIRD CITIZEN. Certainly, he flouted us downright.


FIRST CITIZEN. No, 'tis his kind of speech. He did not mock us.


SECOND CITIZEN. Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says He used us scornfully. He should have showed us His marks of merit, wounds received for's country.


SICINIUS. Why, so he did, I am sure.


THIRD CITIZEN. He said he had wounds, which he could show in private, And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, "I would be consul," says he; "aged custom, But by your voices, will not so permit me; Your voices therefore." When we granted that, Here was "I thank you for your voices. Thank you. Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your voices, I have no further with you." Was not this mockery?


SICINIUS. Why either were you ignorant to see't Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness To yield your voices?


BRUTUS. Could you not have told him As you were lessoned? When he had no power, But was a petty servant to the state, He was your enemy, ever spake against Your liberties and the charters that you bear I' th' body of the weal; and, now arriving A place of potency and sway o' th' state, If he should still malignantly remain Fast foe to th' plebeii, your voices might Be curses to yourselves. You should have said That as his worthy deeds did claim no less Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature Would think upon you for your voices, and Translate his malice towards you into love, Standing your friendly lord.


SICINIUS. Thus to have said, As you were fore-advised, had touched his spirit And tried his inclination; from him plucked Either his gracious promise, which you might, As cause had called you up, have held him to; Or else it would have galled his surly nature, Which easily endures not article Tying him to aught. So putting him to rage, You should have ta'en th' advantage of his choler And passed him unelected.


BRUTUS. Did you perceive He did solicit you in free contempt When he did need your loves, and do you think That his contempt shall not be bruising to you When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies No heart among you? Or had you tongues to cry Against the rectorship of judgment?


SICINIUS. Have you ere now denied the asker, and now Again, of him that did not ask but mock, Bestow your sued-for tongues?


THIRD CITIZEN. He's not confirmed. We may deny him yet.


SECOND CITIZEN. And will deny him. I'll have five hundred voices of that sound.


FIRST CITIZEN. I twice five hundred, and their friends to piece 'em.


BRUTUS. Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends They have chose a consul that will from them take Their liberties, make them of no more voice Than dogs that are as often beat for barking As therefore kept to do so.


SICINIUS. Let them assemble And, on a safer judgment, all revoke Your ignorant election. Enforce his pride And his old hate unto you. Besides, forget not With what contempt he wore the humble weed, How in his suit he scorned you; but your loves, Thinking upon his services, took from you Th' apprehension of his present portance, Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion After the inveterate hate he bears you.


BRUTUS. Lay A fault on us, your tribunes, that we laboured, No impediment between, but that you must Cast your election on him.


SICINIUS. Say you chose him More after our commandment than as guided By your own true affections, and that your minds, Preoccupied with what you rather must do Than what you should, made you against the grain To voice him consul. Lay the fault on us.


BRUTUS. Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you, How youngly he began to serve his country, How long continued, and what stock he springs of, The noble house o' th' Martians, from whence came That Ancus Martius, Numa's daughter's son, Who, after great Hostilius here was king, Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, That our best water brought by conduits hither; And Censorinus, that was so surnamed, And nobly named so, twice being censor, Was his great ancestor.


SICINIUS. One thus descended, That hath beside well in his person wrought To be set high in place, we did commend To your remembrances; but you have found, Scaling his present bearing with his past, That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke Your sudden approbation.


BRUTUS. Say you ne'er had done't— Harp on that still—but by our putting on. And presently when you have drawn your number, Repair to th' Capitol.


ALL. We will so. Almost all Repent in their election.


BRUTUS. Let them go on. This mutiny were better put in hazard Than stay, past doubt, for greater. If, as his nature is, he fall in rage With their refusal, both observe and answer The vantage of his anger.


SICINIUS. To th' Capitol, come. We will be there before the stream o' th' people, And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, Which we have goaded onward.


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 Upon's again.


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 safeguard 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 called your vanquisher.


CORIOLANUS. At Antium lives he?


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' th' 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 passed the noble and the common?


CORIOLANUS. Have I had children's voices?


FIRST SENATOR. Tribunes, give way. He shall to the marketplace.


BRUTUS. The people are incensed against him.


SICINIUS. Stop, 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?


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 mocked them; and, of late, When corn was given them gratis, you repined, Scandaled the suppliants for the people, called them Timepleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.


CORIOLANUS. Why, this was known before.


BRUTUS. Not to them all.


CORIOLANUS. Have you informed them sithence?


BRUTUS. How? I inform them?


COMINIUS. 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 palt'ring Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus Deserved this so dishonoured rub, laid falsely I' th' 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 ploughed for, sowed, and scattered By mingling them with us, the honoured number, Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that Which they have given to beggars.


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 tetter us, yet sought The very way to catch them.


BRUTUS. You speak o' th' 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?


CORIOLANUS. 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.