Complete Plays, The
Page 144
Six of his labours you’ld 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 stem, and thou hast oft beheld
Heart-hardening 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 fear’d and talk’d of more than seen — your son
Will or exceed the common or be caught
With cautelous baits and practise.
Volumnia
My first son.
Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
With thee awhile: determine on some course,
More than a wild exposture to each chance
That starts i’ the way before thee.
Coriolanus
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’ the absence of the needer.
Coriolanus
Fare ye well:
Thou hast years upon thee; and thou 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’ld with thee every foot.
Coriolanus
Give me thy hand: Come.
Exeunt
SCENE II. THE SAME. A STREET NEAR THE GATE.
Enter Sicinius, Brutus, and an Aedile
Sicinius
Bid them all home; he’s gone, and we’ll no further.
The nobility are vex’d, 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
Bid them home:
Say their great enemy is gone, and they
Stand in their ancient strength.
Brutus
Dismiss them home.
Exit Aedile
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.
Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius
Volumnia
O, ye’re well met: the hoarded plague o’ the gods
Requite your love!
Menenius
Peace, peace; be not so loud.
Volumnia
If that I could for weeping, you should hear,—
Nay, and you shall hear some.
To Brutus
Will you be gone?
Virgilia
[To Sicinius] You shall stay too: I would I had the power
To say so to my husband.
Sicinius
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
What then?
Virgilia
What then!
He’ld make an end of thy posterity.
Volumnia
Bastards and all.
Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
Menenius
Come, come, peace.
Sicinius
I would he had continued to his country
As he began, and not unknit himself
The noble knot he made.
Brutus
I would he had.
Volumnia
‘I would he had’! ’Twas you incensed the rabble:
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth
As I can of those mysteries which heaven
Will not have earth to know.
Brutus
Pray, let us go.
Volumnia
Now, pray, sir, get you gone:
You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:—
As far as doth the Capitol exceed
The meanest house in Rome, so far my son —
This lady’s husband here, this, do you see —
Whom you have banish’d, does exceed you all.
Brutus
Well, well, we’ll leave you.
Sicinius
Why stay we to be baited
With one that wants her wits?
Volumnia
Take my prayers with you.
Exeunt Tribunes
I would the gods had nothing else to do
But to confirm my curses! Could I meet ’em
But once a-day, it would unclog my heart
Of what lies heavy to’t.
Menenius
You have told them home;
And, by my troth, you have cause. You’ll sup with me?
Volumnia
Anger’s my meat; I sup upon myself,
And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let’s go:
Leave this faint puling and lament as I do,
In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
Menenius
Fie, fie, fie!
Exeunt
SCENE III. A HIGHWAY BETWEEN ROME AND ANTIUM.
Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting
Roman
I know you well, sir, and you know me: your name, I think, is Adrian.
Volsce
It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you.
Roman
I am a Roman; and my services are, as you are, against ’em: know you me yet?
Volsce
Nicanor? no.
Roman
The same, sir.
Volsce
You had more beard when I last saw you; but your favour is well approved by your tongue. What’s the news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state, to find you out there: you have well saved me a day’s journey.
Roman
There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.
Volsce
Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.
Roman
The main blaze of it is past, but a sma
ll thing would make it flame again: for 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 for ever. This lies glowing, I can tell you, and is almost mature for the violent breaking out.
Volsce
Coriolanus banished!
Roman
Banished, sir.
Volsce
You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.
Roman
The day serves well for them now. I have heard it said, the fittest time to corrupt a man’s wife is when she’s fallen out with her husband. Your noble Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request of his country.
Volsce
He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my business, and I will merrily accompany you home.
Roman
I shall, between this and supper, tell you most strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you?
Volsce
A most royal one; the centurions and their charges, distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, and to be on foot at an hour’s warning.
Roman
I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the man, I think, that shall set them in present action. So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company.
Volsce
You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause to be glad of yours.
Roman
Well, let us go together.
Exeunt
SCENE IV. ANTIUM. BEFORE AUFIDIUS’S HOUSE.
Enter Coriolanus in mean apparel, disguised and muffled
Coriolanus
A goodly city is this Antium. City,
’Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir
Of these fair edifices ’fore my wars
Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not,
Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones
In puny battle slay me.
Enter a Citizen
Save you, sir.
Citizen
And you.
Coriolanus
Direct me, if it be your will,
Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium?
Citizen
He is, and feasts the nobles of the state
At his house this night.
Coriolanus
Which is his house, beseech you?
Citizen
This, here before you.
Coriolanus
Thank you, sir: farewell.
Exit Citizen
O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,
Are still together, who twin, as ’twere, in love
Unseparable, shall within this hour,
On a dissension of a doit, break out
To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes,
Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep,
To take the one the other, by some chance,
Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends
And interjoin their issues. So with me:
My birth-place 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.
Exit
SCENE V. THE SAME. A HALL IN AUFIDIUS’S HOUSE.
Music within. Enter a Servingman
First Servingman
Wine, wine, wine! What service is here! I think our fellows are asleep.
Exit
Enter a second Servingman
Second Servingman
Where’s Cotus? my master calls for him. Cotus!
Exit
Enter Coriolanus
Coriolanus
A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I
Appear not like a guest.
Re-enter the first Servingman
First Servingman
What would you have, friend? whence are you?
Here’s no place for you: pray, go to the door.
Exit
Coriolanus
I have deserved no better entertainment,
In being Coriolanus.
Re-enter second Servingman
Second Servingman
Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his head; that he gives entrance to such companions? Pray, get you out.
Coriolanus
Away!
Second Servingman
Away! get you away.
Coriolanus
Now thou’rt troublesome.
Second Servingman
Are you so brave? I’ll have you talked with anon.
Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him
Third Servingman
What fellow’s this?
First Servingman
A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.
Retires
Third Servingman
What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house.
Coriolanus
Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.
Third Servingman
What are you?
Coriolanus
A gentleman.
Third Servingman
A marvellous poor one.
Coriolanus
True, so I am.
Third Servingman
Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station; here’s no place for you; pray you, avoid: come.
Coriolanus
Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.
Pushes him away
Third Servingman
What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.
Second Servingman
And I shall.
Exit
Third Servingman
Where dwellest thou?
Coriolanus
Under the canopy.
Third Servingman
Under the canopy!
Coriolanus
Ay.
Third Servingman
Where’s that?
Coriolanus
I’ the city of kites and crows.
Third Servingman
I’ the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is!
Then thou dwellest with daws too?
Coriolanus
No, I serve not thy master.
Third Servingman
How, sir! do you meddle with my master?
Coriolanus
Ay; ’tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy trencher, hence!
Beats him away. Exit third Servingman
Enter Aufidius with the second Servingman
Aufidius
Where is this fellow?
Second Servingman
Here, sir: I’ld have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within.
Retires
Aufidius
Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name?
Why speak’st not? speak, man: what’s thy name?
Coriolanus
If, Tullus,
Unmuffling
Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not
Think me for the man I am, necessity
Commands me name myself.
Aufidius
What is thy name?
Coriolanus
A name unmusical to the Volscians’ ears,
And harsh in sound to thine.
Aufidius
Say, what’s thy name?
Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face
Bears a command in’t; though thy tackle’s torn.
Th
ou show’st a noble vessel: what’s thy name?
Coriolanus
Prepare thy brow to frown: know’st thou me yet?
Aufidius
I know thee not: thy name?
Coriolanus
My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
To thee particularly and to all the Volsces
Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service,
The extreme dangers and the drops of blood
Shed for my thankless country are requited
But with that surname; a good memory,
And witness of the malice and displeasure
Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains;
The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
Have all forsook me, hath devour’d the rest;
And suffer’d me by the voice of slaves to be
Whoop’d out of Rome. Now this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope —
Mistake me not — to save my life, for if
I had fear’d death, of all the men i’ the world
I would have ’voided thee, but in mere spite,
To be full quit of those my banishers,
Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims
Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight,
And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it
That my revengeful services may prove
As benefits to thee, for I will fight
Against my canker’d country with the spleen
Of all the under fiends. But if so be
Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes
Thou’rt tired, then, in a word, I also am
Longer to live most weary, and present
My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;
Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
Since I have ever follow’d thee with hate,
Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country’s breast,
And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
It be to do thee service.
Aufidius
O Marcius, Marcius!
Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
Should from yond cloud speak divine things,
And say ’Tis true,’ I’ld not believe them more
Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
Mine arms about that body, where against
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke
And scarr’d the moon with splinters: here I clip
The anvil of my sword, and do contest
As hotly and as nobly with thy love
As ever in ambitious strength I did
Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
I loved the maid I married; never man
Sigh’d truer breath; but that I see thee here,