Asimov’s Guide To Shakespear. Volume 1

by Isaac Asimov

  The tribune Sicinius manages to seize the floor and denounces Coriolanus, demanding not only his arrest, but his instant conviction of treason and his execution.

  Therefore lay hold of him;

  Bear him to th'rock Tarpeian,

  and from thence Into destruction cast him.

  —Act III, scene i, lines 211-13

  The Tarpeian Rock is a cliff that formed part of the Capitoline Hill (see page I-217). To explain its name a legend arose in later times that went as follows:

  In the first decades of Rome's existence, when it was under its founder and first king, Romulus, there was war with the Sabines, a tribe of the vicinity. The Sabines laid siege to the Capitoline Hill and their chance at victory came through Tarpeia, the daughter of the Roman commander who held sway over the defending forces.

  The Sabines managed to persuade Tarpeia to open the gates for them in return for what they wore on their left arms. (Tarpeia set that condition with reference to the gold bracelets they wore there.) That night she secretly opened the gates, and the first few Sabines, as they entered, threw their shields at her, for they wore their shields on their left arms too. The Sabines, who (like most people) were willing to make use of traitors, but didn't like them, in this way kept their bargain.

  The first criminal to be executed on the Capitoline Hill gave her name, therefore, to the later place of execution. (The story was undoubtedly made up to account for the name and is very unlikely to have even the slightest foundation in historical fact.)

  … his trident

  Coriolanus draws his sword. He is certainly not going to be led tamely to execution, and the riot sharpens. When the plebeians are temporarily driven off, Menenius and the other patricians manage, just barely, to persuade Coriolanus to leave. He is forced away for his own safety and because there can be no peacemaking as long as he is there to fire up popular resentment with his own strident tongue.

  Menenius says of him when he is gone:

  His nature is too noble for the world:

  He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

  Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:

  —Act III, scene i, lines 254-56

  Jupiter (Jove) has the lightning bolt as his chief weapon. Neptune's trident ("three teeth") is the three-pointed spear with which he (like Triton and his shell) calmed the waves or drove them to fury. Both lightning bolt and trident were unique attributes, and if Coriolanus would not stoop to beg for them, how much less would he stoop for a mere consulship.

  And yet does Menenius really believe that this is a sign of nobility-or of stupidity? In his very next speech, he bursts out:

  What the vengeance!

  Could he not speak 'em fair?

  —Act III, scene i, lines 261-62

  When the plebeians return, Menenius just barely manages to talk them out of their determination for instant execution and gains Coriolanus the chance of a trial.

  / muse my mother

  Coriolanus is at home, utterly unrepentant. He feels he has done completely right and would do it again at whatever risk. Only one thing bothers him. His mother, somehow, is not happy. Coriolanus says:

  / muse my mother

  Does not approve me further, who was wont

  To call them [the plebeians] woolen vassals…

  —Act III, scene ii, lines 7-9

  And when his mother conies in, he says to her in a child's aggrieved tone:

  I talk of you:

  Why did you wish me milder?

  Would you have me False to my nature?

  Rather say I play The man I am.

  —Act III, scene ii, lines 13-16

  But she does wish him milder. It is not because she (or Menenius for that matter) are more liberal than Coriolanus or less likely to use harsh measures. It is a matter of being more politic. First get the consulship, by any means, and then, with power, crush the plebeians. She says:

  I have a heart as little apt as yours,

  But yet a brain that leads my use of anger

  To better vantage.

  —Act III, scene ii, lines 29-31

  Menenius and the rest are urging him now to stand trial voluntarily, to repent his words and, in effect, crawl a little. Coriolanus is horrified at the very thought, but his mother adds her pleas, saying in one phrase exactly what is wrong with him:

  You are too absolute;

  —Act III, scene ii, line 39

  But that, of course, is her own fault, since she taught him to treat the world as though it consisted of nothing but gilded butterflies which he might tear apart at a mindless whim.

  She tells him now flatly that he must treat this as a stratagem of war. He would play a part to deceive an enemy in arms and cajole a town to surrender. Let him now play a part to deceive the plebeians. (There is no thought in the mind of Volumnia or the other patricians-or probably in those of Shakespeare's audience-that such a course of action is dishonorable.)

  To force Coriolanus to do this, Volumnia does not scruple to pull hard at the Oedipal ties that bind him to her:

  / prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said

  My praises made thee first a soldier, so,

  To have my praise for this, perform a part

  Thou hast not done before.

  —Act III, scene ii, lines 107-110

  That is it. Coriolanus would not be swayed by thoughts of his own safety, by the city's danger, by his friend's reasoning, but once his mother has pled, he says:

  Well, I must do't.

  —Act III, scene ii, line 110b

  For a moment, though, his resolution wavers even now. He can't go through with it. Thereupon Volumnia throws up her hands and tells him angrily to do as he pleases. At that, Coriolanus promptly gives in, out of the absolute terror of being in the position of disobeying his mother's wishes. He says, in little-boy terms:

  Pray, be content:

  Mother, I am going to the marketplace;

  Chide me no more.

  —Act III, scene ii, lines 130-32

  And yet, after all that, when he comes to trial, he can no more hold his tongue than he can jump to the moon. It is an easy task for the tribunes to irritate him into madness again. He is convicted of treason and condemned, not to death at the Tarpeian Rock, but to lifelong exile. (This is actually supposed to have taken place in 491 b.c.)

  It is a politic commutation of sentence, for the tribunes could now say that Coriolanus had deserved death, but that they had shown mercy out of consideration for his services in war.

  … to pluck from them their tribunes.. .

  Coriolanus leaves the city, after showing himself surprisingly cheerful, firm, resolute, and in good heart, cheering up his mother and his friends. (Plutarch describes the leave-taking similarly.)

  Shakespeare has him make a significant comment, however. Coriolanus says:

  I shall be loved when I am lacked.

  —Act IV, scene i, line 15

  This is a strange optimism on his part. He does not show elsewhere in this play any such general confidence in his fellowmen. It almost sounds as though he has something specific in mind; that he has firm information that his friends intend to take action to bring him back; even unconstitutional action.

  That this may be so is strengthened by an odd scene that follows hard thereafter and which seems somewhat irrelevant to the action. A Roman named Nicanor and a Volscian named Adrian meet somewhere between Rome and Antium. Their speeches are ascribed merely to "Roman" and "Volsce." They appear nowhere else in the play and the only purpose of the scene is to highlight gathering treason in Rome on the part of the patricians.

  The Roman says:

  … the nobles receive so to heart

  the banishment of that worthy Coriolanus,

  that they are in a ripe aptness to take all power

  from the people and to pluck from them their tribunes forever.

  —Act IV, scene iii, lines 21-25

  To attain this end, it may be
that the patricians are even considering allying themselves with the common enemy. The Volscian had said of his own people:

  … they are in a most warlike preparation,

  and hope to come upon them [the Romans]

  in the heat of their division.

  —Act IV, scene iii, lines 17-19

  The Roman's response to this news of the Volscian activity is:

  / am joyful to hear

  of their readiness…

  —Act IV, scene iii, lines 48-50

  My birthplace hate I …

  Yet the next scene does not follow this up. There is a sudden break. Coriolanus has made his way to Antium. It is his intention to seek out Tullus Aufidius himself and throw himself upon his mercy. He says:

  My birthplace hate I, and my love's upon

  This enemy town. I'll enter. If he slay me,

  He does fair justice; if he give me way,

  I'll do his country service.

  —Act IV, scene iv, lines 23-26

  What happened? According to the previous scene, it looked as though there were a conspiracy to bring Coriolanus back, even with Volscian help. Nothing further of that is mentioned in the play. Plutarch, to be sure, says that the nobles turned against Coriolanus, but only after the exiled man had joined the Volscians. As for his motive in joining the enemy, Plutarch cites merely rage and desire for revenge.

  Yet it almost seems as though Shakespeare had something better in mind…

  It often happened in the history of the Greek cities that there were internal disturbances between the social classes and that the leaders of one side or the other would be exiled. In such cases, it was common for the exiles to join a foreign enemy and fight their own city with the aid of their sympathizers within, as was the case of Alcibiades, for instance (see page I-142), some eighty years after the time of Coriolanus. (Indeed, Plutarch gives his biographies of Coriolanus and Alcibiades as a pair, showing himself aware of the similarities in their histories.)

  It was this constant civil war and almost constant treason that helped bring down the Greeks and place them at last at the mercy of first the Macedonians and then the Romans.

  It never happened in Rome. There were internecine struggles within the city in plenty throughout the history of the Republic, but never in the face of an outside enemy. When the foreign armies invaded, all Romans locked arms and this was never so remarkable or admirable as when Hannibal nearly ruined the realm two and a half centuries after the time of Coriolanus. It was this which saved Rome and brought her to world empire at last.

  It would almost seem, then, as though there were a missing scene here. Perhaps there should be a scene in Rome after the meeting of the Roman and Volsce, one in which the patricians are meditating treason. The news of the Volscian invasion comes, and after some soul searching, Cominius might rise and insist that the city must come before class and that even Coriolanus must be sacrificed in the greater need of the defense of Rome. And with that the conspiracy would collapse.

  … our dastard nobles.. .

  Coriolanus, hearing of this, is more than disappointed. It is the last straw. Everyone has deserted him. Surely it must be this which makes him turn to the Volscians. Plutarch doesn't have it this way, but Plutarch is only repeating a legend and in my opinion he could have worked it out better at this point. Shakespeare seems to have started in this direction and then never wrote or dropped out the crucial scene.

  It is only that missing scene that can explain what happens next. Coriolanus makes his way, in disguise, to the house of Tullus Aufidius, who is there presiding over a feast to the Volscian nobles, and reveals himself as a suppliant. He tells Aufidius he has nothing left but his name:

  The cruelty and envy of the people,

  Permitted by our dastard nobles, who

  Have all forsook me, hath devoured the rest.

  —Act IV, scene v, lines 78-80

  Why "dastard nobles?" How have they "forsook" him? Only that missing scene would make this plain and account for the colossal bitterness of Coriolanus during the remainder of the play, against not only the plebeians, but the entire city.

  The Coriolanus legend up to this point, by the way, bears a suspicious resemblance to the tale of Themistocles, a famous Athenian who was actually a contemporary of Coriolanus (except that Themistocles is a historical character and Coriolanus is not).

  Themistocles was the moving spirit behind the Athenian-led Greek victory over the Persians in 480 b.c. (thirteen years after the supposed capture of Corioli). After the defeat, however, when Athens was secure, Themistocles' growing pride offended the Athenians. About 472 b.c. he was exiled from the city. In exile, evidence of treason was found against him and he had to make his way to Persia itself as the only place he could be safe.

  On his way there he passed through the city of a man who was his personal enemy-Admetus, King of the Molossians. (Molossia was later known as Epirus and is, in modern times, called Albania.)

  Themistocles came to Admetus in disguise and appealed to him as a fugitive, just as Coriolanus appealed to Aufidius.

  Here the stories part company, however. Themistocles was accepted by Admetus and finally made his way to Persia, where he lived out the remainder of his life. He never took any actual action against Athens.

  Coriolanus did not wish escape. He wished revenge.

  Joined with Aufidius…

  Aufidius accepts Coriolanus' help joyfully. In fact, he offers him generalship over half the army, for what may seem to us perfectly valid reasons. It may seem odd to take the chance of turning over half his forces to someone who until recently had been the chief enemy of the Volscians, but by now Aufidius must know Coriolanus' character well. He must know that Coriolanus has in his mind room for nothing but rage. If the rage is now turned against Rome, the breach between man and city will be made permanent. Coriolanus will have to continue aiding the Volscians, placing his fighting ability and his inside knowledge of Rome at Volscian disposal. And then, when Rome is utterly defeated and wiped out, Coriolanus can be taken care of.

  Rome, meanwhile, is in a temporary state of utter peace and the tribunes congratulate themselves at having brought things to such a happy conclusion. The bad news comes soon enough, however. A messenger dashes in saying:

  It is spoke freely out of many mouths,

  How probable I do not know, that Marcius,

  Joined with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,

  —Act IV, scene vi, lines 65-67

  Perhaps this is why the missing scene is missing (either taken out or never written). For the missing scene to have worked, there would have had to be news of a Volscian advance, followed by a patrician refusal to abandon the city, so that Coriolanus would have had to join the enemy in a rage. But then he would merely be joining a marching army as a hanger-on.

  This way, the Volscians don't move until Coriolanus joins them, and the news arrives that not only is the enemy approaching but the exiled Coriolanus is at their head. So, for the sake of this added drama, the missing scene is removed. It means that the meeting between the Roman and the Volsce is made irrelevant and Coriolanus' desertion to the Volscians and his anger against the "dastard nobles" left inadequately motivated. In this case, apparently, Shakespeare had his choice of two lines of development and did not manage to make a clear decision.

  … cowardly nobles.. .

  The failure to make a clear decision between the two courses of development haunts this sixth scene of the fourth act. At first the patricians seem rather exultant about Coriolanus' assault. Cominius says of the Vol-scians:

  they follow him

  Against us brats with no less confidence

  Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,

  —Act IV, scene vi, lines 93-95

  Cominius is actually proud of Coriolanus' ascendancy over the Vol-scians, but note the picture of butterfly killing again. It is as though Shakespeare were reminding us that a child who is brought up as a butterfly killer may end as a
city destroyer.

  In the absence of the missing scene, it is perhaps here that the patricians ought to overcome their sympathy and admiration for Coriolanus and decide that patriotism takes priority. The necessary speech does not occur (perhaps because it was originally in the lost scene and was not shifted when the scene was lost). That it may have at one time been present might be indicated by a bitter remark of Menenius to the tribunes:

  We loved him, but, like beasts

  And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters.

  —Act IV, scene vi, lines 122-23

  Of course, it might refer to the patricians acceding to the sentence of exile.

  … more proudlier

  Yet all is not well with Coriolanus, either. He is still Coriolanus and can no more bend to the Volscians, now that he is leading them, than he could ever bend to the Romans. The Volscian officers are uneasy and even Tullus Aufidius is unhappy, saying:

  He bears himself more proudlier,

  Even to my person, than I thought he would

  When first I did embrace him; yet his nature