The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  COMINIUS I think ’twill serve, if he

  Can thereto frame his spirit.

  VOLUMNIA He must, and will.

  Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.

  CORIOLANUS

  Must I go show them my unbarbèd sconce?

  Must I with my base tongue give to my noble heart

  A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do’t.

  Yet were there but this single plot to lose,

  This mould of Martius they to dust should grind it

  And throw’t against the wind. To th’ market-place.

  You have put me now to such a part which never

  I shall discharge to th’ life.

  COMINIUS

  Come, come, we’ll prompt you.

  VOLUMNIA

  I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said

  My praises made thee first a soldier, so,

  To have my praise for this, perform a part

  Thou hast not done before.

  CORIOLANUS

  Well, I must do’t.

  Away, my disposition; and possess me

  Some harlot’s spirit! My throat of war be turned,

  Which choired with my drum, into a pipe

  Small as an eunuch or the virgin voice

  That babies lull asleep! The smiles of knaves

  Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys’ tears take up

  The glasses of my sight! A beggar’s tongue

  Make motion through my lips, and my armed knees,

  Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his

  That hath received an alms! I will not do’t,

  Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth,

  And by my body’s action teach my mind

  A most inherent baseness.

  VOLUMNIA

  At thy choice, then.

  To beg of thee it is my more dishonour

  Than thou of them. Come all to ruin. Let

  Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear

  Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death

  With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list.

  Thy valiantness was mine, thou sucked’st it from me,

  But owe thy pride thyself.

  CORIOLANUS

  Pray be content.

  Mother, I am going to the market-place.

  Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves,

  Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved

  Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going.

  Commend me to my wife. I’ll return consul,

  Or never trust to what my tongue can do

  I’th’ way of flattery further.

  VOLUMNIA

  Do your will.

  Exit Volumnia

  COMINIUS

  Away! The tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself

  To answer mildly, for they are prepared

  With accusations, as I hear, more strong

  Than are upon you yet.

  CORIOLANUS

  The word is ‘mildly’. Pray you let us go.

  Let them accuse me by invention, I

  Will answer in mine honour.

  MENENIUS Ay, but mildly.

  CORIOLANUS Well, mildly be it, then—mitd)y.

  Exeunt

  3.3 Enter Sicinius and Brutus

  BRUTUS

  In this point charge him home: that he affects

  Tyrannical power. If he evade us there,

  Enforce him with his envy to the people,

  And that the spoil got on the Antiats

  Was ne’er distributed.

  Enter an Aedile

  What, will he come?

  AEDILE

  He’s coming.

  BRUTUS How accompanied?

  AEDILE

  With old Menenius, and those senators

  That always favoured him.

  SICINIUS Have you a catalogue

  Of all the voices that we have procured,

  Set down by th’ poll?

  AEDILE I have, ’tis ready.

  SICINIUS

  Have you collected them by tribes?

  AEDILE I have.

  SICINIUS

  Assemble presently the people hither,

  And when they hear me say ‘It shall be so

  I’th’ right and strength o‘th’ commons’, be it either

  For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them,

  If I say ‘Fine’, cry ‘Fine!’, if ‘Death’, cry ‘Death!’,

  Insisting on the old prerogative

  And power i‘th’ truth o’th’ cause.

  AEDILE

  I shall inform them.

  BRUTUS

  And when such time they have begun to cry,

  Let them not cease, but with a din confused

  Enforce the present execution

  Of what we chance to sentence.

  AEDILE

  Very well.

  SICINIUS

  Make them be strong, and ready for this hint

  When we shall hap to give’t them.

  BRUTUS ⌈to the Aedile⌉ Go about it.

  ⌈Exit Aedile⌉

  Put him to choler straight. He hath been used

  Ever to conquer and to have his worth

  Of contradiction. Being once chafed, he cannot

  Be reined again to temperance. Then he speaks

  What’s in his heart, and that is there which looks

  With us to break his neck.

  Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with other ⌈Senators and Patricians⌉

  SICINIUS Well, here he comes.

  MENENIUS (to Coriolanus) Calmly, I do beseech you.

  CORIOLANUS

  Ay, as an hostler that for th’ poorest piece

  Will bear the knave by th’ volume.—Th‘honoured

  gods

  Keep Rome in safety and the chairs of justice

  Supplied with worthy men, plant love among’s,

  Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,

  And not our streets with war!

  FIRST SENATOR Amen, amen.

  MENENIUS A noble wish.

  Enter the Aedile with the Citizens

  SICINIUS

  Draw near, ye people.

  AEDILE List to your tribunes. Audience!

  Peace, I say.

  CORIOLANUS First, hear me speak.

  SICINIUS and BRUTUS Well, say.—Peace ho!

  CORIOLANUS

  Shall I be charged no further than this present?

  Must all determine here?

  SICINIUS I do demand

  If you submit you to the people’s voices,

  Allow their officers, and are content

  To suffer lawful censure for such faults

  As shall be proved upon you.

  CORIOLANUS

  I am content.

  MENENIUS

  Lo, citizens, he says he is content.

  The warlike service he has done, consider. Think

  Upon the wounds his body bears, which show

  Like graves i’th’ holy churchyard.

  CORIOLANUS

  Scratches with briers,

  Scars to move laughter only.

  MENENIUS Consider further

  That when he speaks not like a citizen,

  You find him like a soldier. Do not take

  His rougher accents for malicious sounds,

  But, as I say, such as become a soldier

  Rather than envy you.

  COMINIUS Well, well, no more.

  CORIOLANUS What is the matter

  That, being passed for consul with full voice,

  I am so dishonoured that the very hour

  You take it off again?

  SICINUS Answer to us.

  CORIOLANUS Say, then. ’Tis true I ought so.

  SICINIUS

  We charge you that you have contrived to take

  From Rome all seasoned office, and to wind

  Yourself into a power tyrannical,

  F
or which you are a traitor to the people.

  CORIOLANUS

  How, traitor?

  MENENIUS Nay, temperatety—your promise.

  CORIOLANUS

  The fires i‘th’ lowest hell fold in the people!

  Call me their traitor, thou injurious tribune?

  Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,

  In thy hands clutched as many millions, in

  Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say

  ‘Thou liest’ unto thee with a voice as free

  As I do pray the gods.

  SICINIUS Mark you this, people?

  ALL ⌈THE CITIZENS⌉ ⌉ To th’ rock, to th’ rock with him!

  SICINIUS Peace!

  We need not put new matter to his charge.

  What you have seen him do and heard him speak,

  Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,

  Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying

  Those whose great power must try him—

  Even this, so criminal and in such capital kind,

  Deserves th’extremest death.

  BRUTUS

  But since he hath

  Served well for Rome—

  CORIOLANUS

  What do you prate of service?

  BRUTUS

  I talk of that that know it.

  CORIOLANUS You?

  MENENIUS

  Is this the promise that you made your mother?

  COMINIUS

  Know, I pray you—

  CORIOLANUS I’ll know no further.

  Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,

  Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger

  But with a grain a day, I would not buy

  Their mercy at the price of one fair word,

  Nor check my courage for what they can give

  To have’t with saying ‘Good morrow’.

  SICINIUS For that he has,

  As much as in him lies, from time to time

  Inveighed against the people, seeking means

  To pluck away their power, as now at last

  Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence

  Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers

  That doth distribute it, in the name o‘th’ people,

  And in the power of us the tribunes, we

  E’en from this instant banish him our city

  In peril of precipitation

  From off the rock Tarpeian, never more

  To enter our Rome gates. I’th’ people’s name

  I say it shall be so.

  ALL ⌈THE CITIZENS⌉ It shall be so,

  It shall be so. Let him away. He’s banished,

  And it shall be so.

  COMINIUS

  Hear me, my masters and my common friends.

  SICINIUS

  He’s sentenced. No more hearing.

  COMINIUS

  Let me speak.

  I have been consul, and can show for Rome

  Her enemies’ marks upon me. I do love

  My country’s good with a respect more tender,

  More holy and profound, than mine own life,

  My dear wife’s estimate, her womb’s increase,

  And treasure of my loins. Then if I would

  Speak that—

  SICINIUS

  We know your drift. Speak what?

  BRUTUS

  There’s no more to be said, but he is banished,

  As enemy to the people and his country.

  It shall be so.

  ALL ⌈THE CITIZENS⌉ It shall be so, it shall be so.

  CORIOLANUS

  You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate

  As reek o’th’ rotten fens, whose loves I prize

  As the dead carcasses of unburied men

  That do corrupt my air: I banish you.

  And here remain with your uncertainty.

  Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts;

  Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,

  Fan you into despair! Have the power still

  To banish your defenders, till at length

  Your ignorance—which finds not till it feels—

  Making but reservation of yourselves,

  Still your own foes, deliver you

  As most abated captives to some nation

  That won you without blows! Despising

  For you the city, thus I turn my back.

  There is a world elsewhere.

  Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and Menenius, with the rest of the Patricians. The Citizens all shout, and throw up their caps

  AEDILE

  The people’s enemy is gone, is gone.

  ALL THE CITIZENS

  Our enemy is banished, he is gone. Hoo-oo!

  SICINIUS

  Go see him out at gates, and follow him

  As he hath followed you, with all despite.

  Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard

  Attend us through the city.

  ALL THE CITIZENS

  Come, come, let’s see him out at gates. Come.

  The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. Exeunt

  4.1 Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, and Cominius, with the young nobility of Rome

  CORIOLANUS

  Come, leave your tears. A brief farewell. The beast

  With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,

  Where is your ancient courage? You were used

  To say extremities was the trier of spirits,

  That common chances common men could bear,

  That when the sea was calm all boats alike

  Showed mastership in floating; fortune’s blows

  When most struck home, being gentle wounded craves

  A noble cunning. You were used to load me

  With precepts that would make invincible

  The heart that conned them.

  VIRGILIA O heavens, O heavens!

  CORIOLANUS Nay, I prithee, woman—

  VOLUMNIA

  Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,

  And occupations perish!

  CORIOLANUS What, what, what?

  I shall be loved when I am lacked. Nay, mother,

  Resume that spirit when you were wont to say,

  If you had been the wife of Hercules

  Six of his labours you’d have done, and saved

  Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,

  Droop not. Adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother.

  I’ll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,

  Thy tears are salter than a younger man‘s,

  And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general,

  I have seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld

  Heart-hard’ning spectacles. Tell these sad women

  ‘Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes

  As ’tis to laugh at ’em. My mother, you wot well

  My hazards still have been your solace, and—

  Believe’t not lightly—though I go alone,

  Like to a lonely dragon that his fen

  Makes feared and talked of more than seen, your son

  Will or exceed the common or be caught

  With cautelous baits and practice.

  VOLUMNIA My first son,

  Whither will thou go? Take good Cominius

  With thee a while. Determine on some course

  More than a wild exposure to each chance

  That starts i’th’ way before thee.

  ⌈VIRGILIA⌉ O the gods!

  COMINIUS

  I’ll follow thee a month, devise with thee

  Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us

  And we of thee. So, if the time thrust forth

  A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send

  O‘er the vast world to seek a single man,

  And lose advantage, which doth ever cool

  I’th’ absence of the needer.

  CORIOLANUS Fare ye well.

  Thou hast years upon thee, and tho
u art too full

  Of the wars’ surfeits to go rove with one

  That’s yet unbruised. Bring me but out at gate.

  Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and

  My friends of noble touch. When I am forth,

  Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you come.

  While I remain above the ground you shall

  Hear from me still, and never of me aught

  But what is like me formerly.

  MENENIUS That’s worthily

  As any ear can hear. Come, let’s not weep.

  If I could shake off but one seven years

  From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,

  I’d with thee every foot.

  CORIOLANUS Give me thy hand. Come.

  Exeunt

  4.2 Enter the two tribunes, Sicinius and Brutus, with the Aedile

  SICINIUS (to the Aedile)

  Bid them all home. He’s gone, and we’ll no further.

  The nobility are vexed, whom we see have sided

  In his behalf.

  BRUTUS Now we have shown our power,

  Let us seem humbler after it is done

  Than when it was a-doing.

  SICINIUS (to the Aedile) Bid them home.

  Say their great enemy is gone, and they

  Stand in their ancient strength.

  BRUTUS

  Dismiss them home.

  Exit Aedile

  Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, ⌈weeping,⌉ and Menenius

  Here comes his mother.

  SICINIUS Let’s not meet her.

  BRUTUS Why?

  SICINIUS They say she’s mad.

  BRUTUS

  They have ta’en note of us. Keep on your way.

  VOLUMNIA

  O, you’re well met! Th‘hoarded plague o’th’ gods

  Requite your love!

  MENENIUS Peace, peace, be not so loud.

  VOLUMNIA (to the tribunes)

  If that I could for weeping, you should hear—

  Nay, and you shall hear some. Will you be gone?

  VIRGILIA (to the tribunes)

  You shall stay, too. I would I had the power

  To say so to my husband.

  SICINIUS (to Volumnia) Are you mankind?

  VOLUMNIA

  Ay, fool. Is that a shame? Note but this, fool:

  Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship

  To banish him that struck more blows for Rome

  Than thou hast spoken words?

  SICINIUS O blessed heavens!

  VOLUMNIA

  More noble blows than ever thou wise words,

  And for Rome’s good. I’ll tell thee what—yet go.

  Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son

  Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,

  His good sword in his hand.

  SICINIUS