| ACT II SCENE I | Rome. A public place. | |
| | Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people,SICINIUS and BRUTUS | |
| MENENIUS | The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. | |
| BRUTUS | Good or bad? | |
| MENENIUS | Not according to the prayer of the people, for they | |
| | love not Marcius. | 5 |
| 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 Marcius. | 10 |
| BRUTUS | He's a lamb indeed, that baes 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. | |
| Both | Well, sir. | |
| MENENIUS | In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two | 15 |
| | have not in abundance? | |
| BRUTUS | He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. | |
| SICINIUS | Especially in pride. | |
| BRUTUS | And topping all others in boasting. | |
| MENENIUS | This is strange now: do you two know how you are | 20 |
| | censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the | |
| | right-hand file? do you? | |
| Both | Why, how are we censured? | |
| MENENIUS | Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? | |
| Both | Well, well, sir, well. | 25 |
| 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 Marcius for | 30 |
| | 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 infant-like for | 35 |
| | 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! | |
| BRUTUS | What then, sir? | 40 |
| 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 | 45 |
| | 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 | 50 |
| | 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 can't say your worships have | 55 |
| | 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 you have good faces. If you see this in | 60 |
| | the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known | |
| | well enough too? what barm 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. | 65 |
| MENENIUS | You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. 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 fosset-seller; | |
| | and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a | 70 |
| | 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, | 75 |
| | 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 | 80 |
| | 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 | 85 |
| | 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 pack- | |
| | saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; | |
| | who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors | 90 |
| | since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the | |
| | best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den 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. | 95 |
| | BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside | |
| | Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA | |
| | 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 Marcius approaches; for | |
| | the love of Juno, let's go. | 100 |
| MENENIUS | Ha! Marcius coming home! | |
| VOLUMNIA | Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous | |
| | approbation. | |
| MENENIUS | Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! | |
| | Marcius coming home! | 105 |
| VOLUMNIA | | | |
| | | Nay,'tis true. | |
| VIRGILIA | | | |
| VOLUMNIA | Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath | |
| | another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one | 110 |
| | 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't. | |
| MENENIUS | A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven | 115 |
| | 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. | 120 |
| VIRGILIA | O, no, no, no. | |
| VOLUMNIA | O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. | |
| MENENIUS | So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' | |
| | victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. | |
| VOLUMNIA | On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home | 125 |
| | 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: | 130 |
| | an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so | |
| | fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, 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 | 135 |
| | 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. | 140 |
| VIRGILIA | The gods grant them true! | |
| VOLUMNIA | True! pow, wow. | |
| MENENIUS | True! I'll be sworn they are true. | |
| | Where is he wounded? | |
| | To the Tribunes | |
| | God save your good worships! Marcius is coming | 145 |
| | home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? | |
| VOLUMNIA | I' the shoulder and i' the 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' the body. | 150 |
| MENENIUS | One i' the neck, and two i' the 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. | 155 |
| | A shout and flourish | |
| | Hark! the trumpets. | |
| VOLUMNIA | These are the ushers of Marcius: 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. | 160 |
| | A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS thegeneral, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS,crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains andSoldiers, and a Herald | |
| Herald | Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight | |
| | Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, | |
| | With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these | |
| | In honour follows Coriolanus. | |
| | Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! | 165 |
| | 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, | 170 |
| | You have, I know, petition'd all the gods | |
| | For my prosperity! | |
| | Kneels | |
| VOLUMNIA | Nay, my good soldier, up; | |
| | My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and | |
| | By deed-achieving honour newly named,-- | 175 |
| | What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?-- | |
| | But O, thy wife! | |
| CORIOLANUS | My gracious silence, hail! | |
| | Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, | |
| | That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, | 180 |
| | Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, | |
| | And mothers that lack sons. | |
| MENENIUS | Now, the gods crown thee! | |
| CORIOLANUS | And live you yet? | |
| | To VALERIA | |
| | O my sweet lady, pardon. | 185 |
| VOLUMNIA | I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: | |
| | And welcome, general: and ye'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, | 190 |
| | 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: | 195 |
| | We call a nettle but a nettle and | |
| | The faults of fools but folly. | |
| COMINIUS | Ever right. | |
| CORIOLANUS | Menenius ever, ever. | |
| Herald | Give way there, and go on! | 200 |
| CORIOLANUS | To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA | |
| | 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 | 205 |
| | 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, | 210 |
| | I had rather be their servant in my way, | |
| | Than sway with them in theirs. | |
| COMINIUS | On, to the Capitol! | |
| | Flourish. 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 | 215 |
| | Into a rapture lets her baby cry | |
| | While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins | |
| | Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, | |
| | Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, | |
| | Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed | 220 |
| | 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: or veil'd dames | |
| | Commit the war of white and damask in | 225 |
| | Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil | |
| | Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother | |
| | As if that whatsoever god who leads him | |
| | Were slily crept into his human powers | |
| | And gave him graceful posture. | 230 |
| SICINIUS | On the sudden, | |
| | I warrant him consul. | |
| BRUTUS | Then our office may, | |
| | During his power, go sleep. | |
| SICINIUS | He cannot temperately transport his honours | 235 |
| | 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 | 240 |
| | Upon their ancient malice will forget | |
| | With the least cause these his new honours, which | |
| | That he will give them make I as little question | |
| | As he is proud to do't. | |
| BRUTUS | I heard him swear, | 245 |
| | Were he to stand for consul, never would he | |
| | Appear i' the market-place nor on him put | |
| | The napless vesture of humility; | |
| | Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds | |
| | To the people, beg their stinking breaths. | 250 |
| 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 | 255 |
| | 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. | 260 |
| 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 | 265 |
| | Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, | |
| | In human action and capacity, | |
| | Of no more soul nor fitness for the world | |
| | Than camels in the war, who have their provand | |
| | Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows | 270 |
| | 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 he be put upon 't; and that's as easy | 275 |
| | As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire | |
| | To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze | |
| | Shall darken him for ever. | |
| | Enter a Messenger | |
| BRUTUS | What's the matter? | |
| Messenger | You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought | 280 |
| | That Marcius shall be consul: | |
| | I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and | |
| | The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, | |
| | Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, | |
| | Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, | 285 |
| | 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 the time, | 290 |
| | But hearts for the event. | |
| SICINIUS | Have with you. | |
| | Exeunt | |