Corio. Haue I had Childrens Voyces?Senat. Tribunes giue way, he shall toth' Market place
Brut. The People are incens'd against him
Scicin. Stop, or all will fall in broyle
Corio. Are these your Heard?Must these haue Voyces, that can yeeld them now,And straight disclaim their toungs? what are your Offices?You being their Mouthes, why rule you not their Teeth?Haue you not set them on?Mene. Be calme, be calme
Corio. It is a purpos'd thing, and growes by Plot,To curbe the will of the Nobilitie:Suffer't, and liue with such as cannot rule,Nor euer will be ruled
Brut. Call't not a Plot:The People cry you mockt them: and of late,When Corne was giuen them gratis, you repin'd,Scandal'd the Suppliants: for the People, call'd themTime-pleasers, flatterers, foes to Noblenesse
Corio. Why this was knowne before
Brut. Not to them all
Corio. Haue you inform'd them sithence?Brut. How? I informe them?Com. You are like to doe such businesse
Brut. Not vnlike each way to better yours
Corio. Why then should I be Consull? by yond CloudsLet me deserue so ill as you, and make meYour fellow Tribune
Scicin. You shew too much of that,For which the People stirre: if you will passeTo where you are bound, you must enquire your way,Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,Or neuer be so Noble as a Consull,Nor yoake with him for Tribune
Mene. Let's be calme
Com. The People are abus'd: set on, this paltringBecomes not Rome: nor ha's CoriolanusDeseru'd this so dishonor'd Rub, layd falselyI'th' plaine Way of his Merit
Corio. Tell me of Corne: this was my speech,And I will speak't againe
Mene. Not now, not now
Senat. Not in this heat, Sir, now
Corio. Now as I liue, I will.My Nobler friends, I craue their pardons:For the mutable ranke-sented Meynie,Let them regard me, as I doe not flatter,And therein behold themselues: I say againe,In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our SenateThe Cockle of Rebellion, Insolence, Sedition,Which we our selues haue plowed for, sow'd, & scatter'd,By mingling them with vs, the honor'd Number,Who lack not Vertue, no, nor Power, but thatWhich they haue giuen to Beggers
Mene. Well, no more
Senat. No more words, we beseech you
Corio. How? no more?As for my Country, I haue shed my blood,Not fearing outward force: So shall my LungsCoine words till their decay, against those MeazelsWhich we disdaine should Tetter vs, yet soughtThe very way to catch them
Bru. You speake a'th' people, as if you were a God,To punish; Not a man, of their Infirmity
Sicin. 'Twere well we let the people know't
Mene. What, what? His Choller?Cor. Choller? Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,By Ioue, 'twould be my minde
Sicin. It is a minde that shall remain a poisonWhere it is: not poyson any further
Corio. Shall remaine?Heare you this Triton of the Minnoues? Marke youHis absolute Shall?Com. 'Twas from the Cannon
Cor. Shall? O God! but most vnwise Patricians: whyYou graue, but wreaklesse Senators, haue you thusGiuen Hidra heere to choose an Officer,That with his peremptory Shall, being butThe horne, and noise o'th' Monsters, wants not spiritTo say, hee'l turne your Current in a ditch,And make your Channell his? If he haue power,Then vale your Ignorance: If none, awakeYour dangerous Lenity: If you are Learn'd,Be not as common Fooles; if you are not,Let them haue Cushions by you. You are Plebeians,If they be Senators: and they are no lesse,When both your voices blended, the great'st tasteMost pallates theirs. They choose their Magistrate,And such a one as he, who puts his Shall,His popular Shall, against a grauer BenchThen euer frown'd in Greece. By Ioue himselfe,It makes the Consuls base; and my Soule akesTo know, when two Authorities are vp,Neither Supreame; How soone ConfusionMay enter 'twixt the gap of Both, and takeThe one by th' other
Com. Well, on to'th' Market place
Corio. Who euer gaue that Counsell, to giue forthThe Corne a'th' Store-house gratis, as 'twas vs'dSometime in Greece
Mene. Well, well, no more of that
Cor. Thogh there the people had more absolute powreI say they norisht disobedience: fed, the ruin of the State
Bru. Why shall the people giueOne that speakes thus, their voyce?Corio. Ile giue my Reasons,More worthier then their Voyces. They know the CorneWas not our recompence, resting well assur'dThey ne're did seruice for't; being prest to'th' Warre,Euen when the Nauell of the State was touch'd,They would not thred the Gates: This kinde of SeruiceDid not deserue Corne gratis. Being i'th' Warre,There Mutinies and Reuolts, wherein they shew'dMost Valour spoke not for them. Th' AccusationWhich they haue often made against the Senate,All cause vnborne, could neuer be the NatiueOf our so franke Donation. Well, what then?How shall this Bosome-multiplied, digestThe Senates Courtesie? Let deeds expresseWhat's like to be their words, We did request it,We are the greater pole, and in true feareThey gaue vs our demands. Thus we debaseThe Nature of our Seats, and make the RabbleCall our Cares, Feares; which will in timeBreake ope the Lockes a'th' Senate, and bring inThe Crowes to pecke the Eagles
Mene. Come enough
Bru. Enough, with ouer measure
Corio. No, take more.What may be sworne by, both Diuine and Humane,Seale what I end withall. This double worship,Whereon part do's disdaine with cause, the otherInsult without all reason: where Gentry, Title, wisedomCannot conclude, but by the yea and noOf generall Ignorance, it must omitReall Necessities, and giue way the whileTo vnstable Slightnesse. Purpose so barr'd, it followes,Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore beseech you,You that will be lesse fearefull, then discreet,That loue the Fundamentall part of StateMore then you doubt the change on't: That preferreA Noble life, before a Long, and Wish,To iumpe a Body with a dangerous Physicke,That's sure of death without it: at once plucke outThe Multitudinous Tongue, let them not lickeThe sweet which is their poyson. Your dishonorMangles true iudgement, and bereaues the StateOf that Integrity which should becom't:Not hauing the power to do the good it wouldFor th' ill which doth controul't
Bru. Has said enough
Sicin. Ha's spoken like a Traitor, and shall answerAs Traitors do
Corio. Thou wretch, despight ore-whelme thee:What should the people do with these bald Tribunes?On whom depending, their obedience failesTo'th' greater Bench, in a Rebellion:When what's not meet, but what must be, was Law,Then were they chosen: in a better houre,Let what is meet, be saide it must be meet,And throw their power i'th' dust
Bru. Manifest Treason
Sicin. This a Consull? No.Enter an aedile.
Bru. The Ediles hoe: Let him be apprehended:Sicin. Go call the people, in whose name my SelfeAttach thee as a Traitorous Innouator:A Foe to'th' publike Weale. Obey I charge thee,And follow to thine answer
Corio. Hence old Goat
All. Wee'l Surety him
Com. Ag'd sir, hands off
Corio. Hence rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bonesOut of thy Garments
Sicin. Helpe ye Citizens.Enter a rabble of Plebeians with the Aediles.
Mene. On both sides more respect
Sicin. Heere's hee, that would take from you all your power
Bru. Seize him Aediles
All. Downe with him, downe with him
2 Sen. Weapons, weapons, weapons:
They all bustle about Coriolanus.
Tribunes, Patricians, Citizens: what ho:Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, Citizens
All. Peace, peace, peace, stay, hold, peace
Mene. What is about to be? I am out of Breath,Confusions neere, I cannot speake. You, TribunesTo'th' people: Coriolanus, patience: Speak good Sicinius
Scici. Heare me, People peace
All. Let's here our Tribune: peace, speake, speake,speake
Scici. You are at point to lose your Liberties:Martius would haue all from you; Martius,Whom late you haue nam'd for Consull
Mene. Fie, fie, fie, this is the way to kindle, not toquench
Sena. To vnbuild the Citie, and to lay all flat
Scici. What is the Citie, but the People?All. True, the People are the Citie
Brut. By the consent of all, we were establish'd thePeoples Magistrates
All. You so remaine
Mene. And so are like to doe
Com. That is the way to lay the Citie flat,To bring the Roofe to the Foundation,And burie all, which yet distinctly raungesIn heapes, and piles of Ruine
Scici. This deserues Death
Brut. Or let vs stand to our Authoritie,Or let vs lose it: we doe here pronounce,Vpon the part o'th' People, in whose powerWe were elected theirs, Martius is worthyOf present Death
Scici. Therefore lay hold of him:Beare him toth' Rock Tarpeian, and from thenceInto destruction cast him
Brut. aediles seize him
All Ple. Yeeld Martius, yeeld
Mene. Heare me one word, 'beseech you Tribunes, heare me but a word
Aediles. Peace, peace
Mene. Be that you seeme, truly your Countries friend,And temp'rately proceed to what you wouldThus violently redresse
Brut. Sir, those cold wayes,That seeme like prudent helpes, are very poysonous,Where the Disease is violent. Lay hands vpon him,And beare him to the Rock.
Corio. drawes his Sword.
Corio. No, Ile die here:There's some among you haue beheld me fighting,Come trie vpon your selues, what you haue seene me
Mene. Downe with that Sword, Tribunes withdrawa while
Brut. Lay hands vpon him
Mene. Helpe Martius, helpe: you that be noble, helpe him young and old
All. Downe with him, downe with him.
Exeunt.
In this Mutinie, the Tribunes, the aediles, and the People are beat in.
Mene. Goe, get you to our House: be gone, away.All will be naught else
2.Sena. Get you gone
Com. Stand fast, we haue as many friends as enemies
Mene. Shall it be put to that?Sena. The Gods forbid:I prythee noble friend, home to thy House,Leaue vs to cure this Cause
Mene. For 'tis a Sore vpon vs,You cannot Tent your selfe: be gone, 'beseech you
Corio. Come Sir, along with vs
Mene. I would they were Barbarians, as they are,Though in Rome litter'd: not Romans, as they are not,Though calued i'th' Porch o'th' Capitoll:Be gone, put not your worthy Rage into your Tongue,One time will owe another
Corio. On faire ground, I could beat fortie of them
Mene. I could my selfe take vp a Brace o'th' best ofthem, yea, the two Tribunes
Com. But now 'tis oddes beyond Arithmetick,And Manhood is call'd Foolerie, when it standsAgainst a falling Fabrick. Will you hence,Before the Tagge returne? whose Rage doth rendLike interrupted Waters, and o're-beareWhat they are vs'd to beare
Mene. Pray you be gone:Ile trie whether my old Wit be in requestWith those that haue but little: this must be patchtWith Cloth of any Colour
Com. Nay, come away.
Exeunt. Coriolanus and Cominius.
Patri. This man ha's marr'd his fortune
Mene. His nature is too noble for the World:He would not flatter Neptune for his Trident,Or Ioue, for's power to Thunder: his Heart's his Mouth:What his Brest forges, that his Tongue must vent,And being angry, does forget that euerHe heard the Name of Death.
A Noise within.
Here's goodly worke
Patri. I would they were a bed
Mene. I would they were in Tyber.What the vengeance, could he not speake 'em faire?Enter Brutus and Sicinius with the rabble againe.
Sicin. Where is this Viper,That would depopulate the city, & be euery man himselfMene. You worthy Tribunes
Sicin. He shall be throwne downe the Tarpeian rockWith rigorous hands: he hath resisted Law,And therefore Law shall scorne him further TriallThen the seuerity of the publike Power,Which he so sets at naught
1 Cit. He shall well know the Noble Tribunes areThe peoples mouths, and we their hands
All. He shall sure ont
Mene. Sir, sir
Sicin. Peace
Me. Do not cry hauocke, where you shold but huntWith modest warrant
Sicin. Sir, how com'st that you haue holpeTo make this rescue?Mene. Heere me speake? As I do knowThe Consuls worthinesse, so can I name his Faults
Sicin. Consull? what Consull?Mene. The Consull Coriolanus
Bru. He Consull
All. No, no, no, no, no
Mene. If by the Tribunes leaue,And yours good people,I may be heard, I would craue a word or two,The which shall turne you to no further harme,Then so much losse of time
Sic. Speake breefely then,For we are peremptory to dispatchThis Viporous Traitor: to eiect him henceWere but one danger, and to keepe him heereOur certaine death: therefore it is decreed,He dyes to night
Menen. Now the good Gods forbid,That our renowned Rome, whose gratitudeTowards her deserued Children, is enroll'dIn Ioues owne Booke, like an vnnaturall DamShould now eate vp her owne
Sicin. He's a Disease that must be cut away
Mene. Oh he's a Limbe, that ha's but a DiseaseMortall, to cut it off: to cure it, easie.What ha's he done to Rome, that's worthy death?Killing our Enemies, the blood he hath lost(Which I dare vouch, is more then that he hathBy many an Ounce) he dropp'd it for his Country:And what is left, to loose it by his Countrey,Were to vs all that doo't, and suffer itA brand to th' end a'th World
Sicin. This is cleane kamme
Brut. Meerely awry:When he did loue his Country, it honour'd him
Menen. The seruice of the footeBeing once gangren'd, is not then respectedFor what before it was
Bru. Wee'l heare no more:Pursue him to his house, and plucke him thence,Least his infection being of catching nature,Spred further
Menen. One word more, one word:This Tiger-footed-rage, when it shall findThe harme of vnskan'd swiftnesse, will (too late)Tye Leaden pounds too's heeles. Proceed by Processe,Least parties (as he is belou'd) breake out,And sacke great Rome with Romanes
Brut. If it were so?Sicin. What do ye talke?Haue we not had a taste of his Obedience?Our Ediles smot: our selues resisted: come
Mene. Consider this: He ha's bin bred i'th' WarresSince a could draw a Sword, and is ill-school'dIn boulted Language: Meale and Bran togetherHe throwes without distinction. Giue me leaue,Ile go to him, and vndertake to bring him in peace,Where he shall answer by a lawfull Forme(In peace) to his vtmost perill
1.Sen. Noble Tribunes,It is the humane way: the other courseWill proue to bloody: and the end of it,Vnknowne to the Beginning
Sic. Noble Menenius, be you then as the peoples officer:Masters, lay downe your Weapons
Bru. Go not home
Sic. Meet on the Market place: wee'l attend you there:Where if you bring not Martius, wee'l proceedeIn our first way
Menen. Ile bring him to you.Let me desire your company: he must come,Or what is worst will follow
Sena. Pray you let's to him.
Exeunt. Omnes.
Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.
Corio. Let them pull all about mine eares, present meDeath on the Wheele, or at wilde Horses heeles,Or pile ten hilles on the Tarpeian Rocke,That the precipitation might downe stretchBelow the beame of sight; yet will I stillBe thus to them.Enter Volumnia.
Noble. You do the Nobler
Corio. I muse my MotherDo's not approue me further, who was wontTo call them Wollen Vassailes, things createdTo buy and sell with Groats, to shew bare headsIn Congregations, to yawne, be still, and wonder,When one but of my ordinance stood vpTo speake of Peace, or Warre. I talke of you,Why did you wish me milder? Would you haue meFalse to my Nature? Rather say, I playThe man I am
Volum. Oh sir, sir, sir,I would haue had you put your power well onBefore you had worne it out
Corio. Let go
Vol. You might haue beene enough the man you are,With striuing lesse to be so: Lesser had binThe things of your dispositions, ifYou had not shew'd them how ye were dispos'dEre they lack'd power to crosse you
Corio. Let them hang
Volum. I, and burne too.Enter Menenius with the Senators.
Men. Come, come, you haue bin too rough, somthingtoo rough: you must returne, and mend it
Sen. There's no remedy,Vnlesse by not so doing, our good CitieCleaue in the midd'st, and perish
Volum. Pray be counsail'd;I haue a heart as little apt as yours,But yet a braine, that leades my vse of AngerTo better vantage
Mene. Well said, Noble woman:Before he should thus stoope to'th' heart, but thatThe violent fit a'th' time craues it as PhysickeFor the whole State; I would put mine Armour on,Which I can scarsely beare
Corio. What must I do?Mene. Returne to th' Tribunes
Corio. Well, what then? what then?Mene. Repent, what you haue spoke
Corio. For them, I cannot do it to the Gods,Must I then doo't to them?Volum. You are too absolute,Though therein you can neuer be too Noble,But when extremities speake. I haue heard you say,Honor and Policy, like vnseuer'd Friends,I'th' Warre do grow together: Grant that, and tell meIn Peace, what each of them by th' other loose,That they combine not there?Corio. Tush, tush
Mene. A good demand
Volum. If it be Honor in your Warres, to seemeThe same you are not, which for your best endsYou adopt your policy: How is it lesse or worseThat it shall hold Companionship in PeaceWith Honour, as in Warre; since that to bothIt stands in like request
Corio. Why force you this?Volum. Because, thatNow it lyes you on to speake to th' people:Not by your owne instruction, nor by'th' matterWhich your heart prompts you, but with such wordsThat are but roated in your Tongue;Though but Bastards, and SyllablesOf no allowance, to your bosomes truth.Now, this no more dishonors you at all,Then to take in a Towne with gentle words,Which else would put you to your fortune, andThe hazard of much blood.I would dissemble with my Nature, whereMy Fortunes and my Friends at stake, requir'dI should do so in Honor. I am in thisYour Wife, your Sonne: These Senators, the Nobles,And you, will rather shew our generall Lowts,How you can frowne, then spend a fawne vpon 'em,For the inheritance of their loues, and safegardOf what that want might ruine
Menen. Noble Lady,Come goe with vs, speake faire: you may salue so,Not what is dangerous present, but the losseOf what is past
Volum. I prythee now, my Sonne,Goe to them, with this Bonnet in thy hand,And thus farre hauing stretcht it (here be with them)Thy Knee bussing the stones: for in such businesseAction is eloquence, and the eyes of th' ignorantMore learned then the eares, wauing thy head,Which often thus correcting thy stout heart,Now humble as the ripest Mulberry,That will not hold the handling: or say to them,Thou art their Souldier, and being bred in broyles,Hast not the soft way, which thou do'st confesseWere fit for thee to vse, as they to clayme,In asking their good loues, but thou wilt frameThy selfe (forsooth) hereafter theirs so farre,As thou hast power and person
Menen. This but done,Euen as she speakes, why their hearts were yours:For they haue Pardons, being ask'd, as free,As words to little purpose
Volum. Prythee now,Goe, and be rul'd: although I know thou hadst ratherFollow thine Enemie in a fierie Gulfe,Then flatter him in a Bower.Enter Cominius.
Here is Cominius
Com. I haue beene i'th' Market place: and Sir 'tis fitYou make strong partie, or defend your selfeBy calmenesse, or by absence: all's in anger
Menen. Onely faire speech
Com. I thinke 'twill serue, if he can thereto frame hisspirit
Volum. He must, and will:Prythee now say you will, and goe about it
Corio. Must I goe shew them my vnbarb'd Sconce?Must I with my base Tongue giue to my Noble HeartA Lye, that it must beare well? I will doo't:Yet were there but this single Plot, to looseThis Mould of Martius, they to dust should grinde it,And throw't against the Winde. Toth' Market place:You haue put me now to such a part, which neuerI shall discharge toth' Life
Com. Come, come, wee'le prompt you
Volum. I prythee now sweet Son, as thou hast saidMy praises made thee first a Souldier; soTo haue my praise for this, performe a partThou hast not done before
Corio. Well, I must doo't:Away my disposition, and possesse meSome Harlots spirit: My throat of Warre be turn'd,Which quier'd with my Drumme into a Pipe,Small as an Eunuch, or the Virgin voyceThat Babies lull a-sleepe: The smiles of KnauesTent in my cheekes, and Schoole-boyes Teares take vpThe Glasses of my sight: A Beggars TongueMake motion through my Lips, and my Arm'd kneesWho bow'd but in my Stirrop, bend like hisThat hath receiu'd an Almes. I will not doo't,Least I surcease to honor mine owne truth,And by my Bodies action, teach my MindeA most inherent Basenesse
Volum. At thy choice then:To begge of thee, it is my more dis-honor,Then thou of them. Come all to ruine, letThy Mother rather feele thy Pride, then feareThy dangerous Stoutnesse: for I mocke at deathWith as bigge heart as thou. Do as thou list,Thy Valiantnesse was mine, thou suck'st it from me:But owe thy Pride thy selfe
Corio. Pray be content:Mother, I am going to the Market place:Chide me no more. Ile Mountebanke their Loues,Cogge their Hearts from them, and come home belou'dOf all the Trades in Rome. Looke, I am going:Commend me to my Wife, Ile returne Consull,Or neuer trust to what my Tongue can doI'th way of Flattery further
Volum. Do your will.
Exit Volumnia
Com. Away, the Tribunes do attend you: arm your selfTo answer mildely: for they are prepar'dWith Accusations, as I heare more strongThen are vpon you yet
Corio. The word is, Mildely. Pray you let vs go,Let them accuse me by inuention: IWill answer in mine Honor
Menen. I, but mildely
Corio. Well mildely be it then, Mildely.
Exeunt.
Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Bru. In this point charge him home, that he affectsTyrannicall power: If he euade vs there,Inforce him with his enuy to the people,And that the Spoile got on the AntiatsWas ne're distributed. What, will he come?Enter an Edile.
Edile. Hee's comming
Bru. How accompanied?Edile. With old Menenius, and those SenatorsThat alwayes fauour'd him
Sicin. Haue you a CatalogueOf all the Voices that we haue procur'd, set downe by'th Pole?Edile. I haue: 'tis ready
Sicin. Haue you collected them by Tribes?Edile. I haue
Sicin. Assemble presently the people hither:And when they heare me say, it shall be so,I'th' right and strength a'th' Commons: be it eitherFor death, for fine, or Banishment, then let themIf I say Fine, cry Fine; if Death, cry Death,Insisting on the olde prerogatiueAnd power i'th Truth a'th Cause
Edile. I shall informe them
Bru. And when such time they haue begun to cry,Let them not cease, but with a dinne confus'dInforce the present ExecutionOf what we chance to Sentence
Edi. Very well
Sicin. Make them be strong, and ready for this hintWhen we shall hap to giu't them
Bru. Go about it,Put him to Choller straite, he hath bene vs'dEuer to conquer, and to haue his worthOf contradiction. Being once chaft, he cannotBe rein'd againe to Temperance, then he speakesWhat's in his heart, and that is there which lookesWith vs to breake his necke.Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with others.
Sicin. Well, heere he comes
Mene. Calmely, I do beseech you
Corio. I, as an Hostler, that fourth poorest peeceWill beare the Knaue by'th Volume:Th' honor'd GoddesKeepe Rome in safety, and the Chaires of IusticeSupplied with worthy men, plant loue amongsThrough our large Temples with y shewes of peaceAnd not our streets with Warre
1 Sen. Amen, Amen
Mene. A Noble wish.Enter the Edile with the Plebeians.
Sicin. Draw neere ye people
Edile. List to your Tribunes. Audience:Peace I say
Corio. First heare me speake
Both Tri. Well, say: Peace hoe
Corio. Shall I be charg'd no further then this present?Must all determine heere?Sicin. I do demand,If you submit you to the peoples voices,Allow their Officers, and are contentTo suffer lawfull Censure for such faultsAs shall be prou'd vpon you
Corio. I am Content
Mene. Lo Citizens, he sayes he is Content.The warlike Seruice he ha's done, consider: ThinkeVpon the wounds his body beares, which shewLike Graues i'th holy Church-yard
Corio. Scratches with Briars, scarres to moueLaughter onely
Mene. Consider further:That when he speakes not like a Citizen,You finde him like a Soldier: do not takeHis rougher Actions for malicious sounds:But as I say, such as become a Soldier,Rather then enuy you
Com. Well, well, no more
Corio. What is the matter,That being past for Consull with full voyce:I am so dishonour'd, that the very houreYou take it off againe
Sicin. Answer to vs
Corio. Say then: 'tis true, I ought soSicin. We charge you, that you haue contriu'd to takeFrom Rome all season'd Office, and to windeYour selfe into a power tyrannicall,For which you are a Traitor to the people
Corio. How? Traytor?Mene. Nay temperately: your promise
Corio. The fires i'th' lowest hell. Fould in the people:Call me their Traitor, thou iniurious Tribune.Within thine eyes sate twenty thousand deathsIn thy hands clutcht: as many Millions inThy lying tongue, both numbers. I would sayThou lyest vnto thee, with a voice as free,As I do pray the Gods
Sicin. Marke you this people?All. To'th' Rocke, to'th' Rocke with him
Sicin. Peace:We neede not put new matter to his charge:What you haue seene him do, and heard him speake:Beating your Officers, cursing your selues,Opposing Lawes with stroakes, and heere defyingThose whose great power must try him.Euen this so criminall, and in such capitall kindeDeserues th' extreamest death
Bru. But since he hath seru'd well for Rome
Corio. What do you prate of Seruice
Brut. I talke of that, that know it
Corio. You?Mene. Is this the promise that you made your mother
Com. Know, I pray you
Corio. Ile know no further:Let them pronounce the steepe Tarpeian death,Vagabond exile, Fleaing, pent to lingerBut with a graine a day, I would not buyTheir mercie, at the price of one faire word,Nor checke my Courage for what they can giue,To haue't with saying, Good morrow
Sicin. For that he ha's(As much as in him lies) from time to timeEnui'd against the people; seeking meanesTo plucke away their power: as now at last,Giuen Hostile strokes, and that not in the presenceOf dreaded Iustice, but on the MinistersThat doth distribute it. In the name a'th' people,And in the power of vs the Tribunes, wee(Eu'n from this instant) banish him our CitieIn perill of precipitationFrom off the Rocke Tarpeian, neuer moreTo enter our Rome gates. I'th' Peoples name,I say it shall bee so
All. It shall be so, it shall be so: let him away:Hee's banish'd, and it shall be so
Com. Heare me my Masters, and my common friends
Sicin. He's sentenc'd: No more hearing
Com. Let me speake:I haue bene Consull, and can shew from RomeHer Enemies markes vpon me. I do loueMy Countries good, with a respect more tender,More holy, and profound, then mine owne life,My deere Wiues estimate, her wombes encrease,And treasure of my Loynes: then if I wouldSpeake that
Sicin. We know your drift. Speake what?Bru. There's no more to be said, but he is banish'dAs Enemy to the people, and his Countrey.It shall bee so
All. It shall be so, it shall be so
Corio. You common cry of Curs, whose breath I hate,As reeke a'th' rotten Fennes: whose Loues I prize,As the dead Carkasses of vnburied men,That do corrupt my Ayre: I banish you,And heere remaine with your vncertaintie.Let euery feeble Rumor shake your hearts:Your Enemies, with nodding of their PlumesFan you into dispaire: Haue the power stillTo banish your Defenders, till at lengthYour ignorance (which findes not till it feeles,Making but reseruation of your selues,Still your owne Foes) deliuer youAs most abated Captiues, to some NationThat wonne you without blowes, despisingFor you the City. Thus I turne my backe;There is a world elsewhere.
Exeunt. Coriolanus, Cominius, with Cumalijs. They all shout, and throw vp their Caps.
Edile. The peoples Enemy is gone, is gone
All. Our enemy is banish'd, he is gone: Hoo, oo
Sicin. Go see him out at Gates, and follow himAs he hath follow'd you, with all despightGiue him deseru'd vexation. Let a guardAttend vs through the City
All. Come, come, lets see him out at gates, come:The Gods preserue our Noble Tribunes, come.
Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, Cominius, withthe yongNobility of Rome.
Corio. Come leaue your teares: a brief farwel: the beastWith many heads butts me away. Nay Mother,Where is your ancient Courage? You were vs'dTo say, Extreamities was the trier of spirits,That common chances. Common men could beare,That when the Sea was calme, all Boats alikeShew'd Mastership in floating. Fortunes blowes,When most strooke home, being gentle wounded, crauesA Noble cunning. You were vs'd to load meWith Precepts that would make inuincibleThe heart that conn'd them
Virg. Oh heauens! O heauens!Corio. Nay, I prythee woman
Vol. Now the Red Pestilence strike al Trades in Rome,And Occupations perish
Corio. What, what, what:I shall be lou'd when I am lack'd. Nay Mother,Resume that Spirit, when you were wont to say,If you had beene the Wife of Hercules,Six of his Labours youl'd haue done, and sau'dYour Husband so much swet. Cominius,Droope not, Adieu: Farewell my Wife, my Mother,Ile do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,Thy teares are salter then a yonger mans,And venomous to thine eyes. My (sometime) Generall,I haue seene the Sterne, and thou hast oft beheldHeart-hardning spectacles. Tell these sad women,Tis fond to waile ineuitable strokes,As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My Mother, you wot wellMy hazards still haue beene your solace, andBeleeu't not lightly, though I go aloneLike to a lonely Dragon, that his FenneMakes fear'd, and talk'd of more then seene: your SonneWill or exceed the Common, or be caughtWith cautelous baits and practice
Volum. My first sonne,Whether will thou go? Take good CominiusWith thee awhile: Determine on some courseMore then a wilde exposture, to each chanceThat starts i'th' way before thee
Corio. O the Gods!Com. Ile follow thee a Moneth, deuise with theeWhere thou shalt rest, that thou may'st heare of vs,And we of thee. So if the time thrust forthA cause for thy Repeale, we shall not sendO're the vast world, to seeke a single man,And loose aduantage, which doth euer cooleIth' absence of the needer
Corio. Fare ye well:Thou hast yeares vpon thee, and thou art too fullOf the warres surfets, to go roue with oneThat's yet vnbruis'd: bring me but out at gate.Come my sweet wife, my deerest Mother, andMy Friends of Noble touch: when I am forth,Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you come:While I remaine aboue the ground, you shallHeare from me still, and neuer of me oughtBut what is like me formerly
Menen. That's worthilyAs any eare can heare. Come, let's not weepe,If I could shake off but one seuen yeeresFrom these old armes and legges, by the good GodsI'ld with thee, euery foot
Corio. Giue me thy hand, come.
Exeunt.
Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus, with the Edile.
Sicin. Bid them all home, he's gone: & wee'l no further,The Nobility are vexed, whom we see haue sidedIn his behalfe
Brut. Now we haue shewne our power,Let vs seeme humbler after it is done,Then when it was a dooing
Sicin. Bid them home: say their great enemy is gone,And they, stand in their ancient strength
Brut. Dismisse them home. Here comes his Mother.Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.
Sicin. Let's not meet her
Brut. Why?Sicin. They say she's mad
Brut. They haue tane note of vs: keepe on your way
Volum. Oh y'are well met:Th' hoorded plague a'th' Gods requit your loue
Menen. Peace, peace, be not so loud
Volum. If that I could for weeping, you should heare,Nay, and you shall heare some. Will you be gone?Virg. You shall stay too: I would I had the powerTo say so to my Husband
Sicin. Are you mankinde?Volum. I foole, is that a shame. Note but this Foole,Was not a man my Father? Had'st thou FoxshipTo banish him that strooke more blowes for RomeThen thou hast spoken words
Sicin. Oh blessed Heauens!Volum. Moe Noble blowes, then euer y wise words.And for Romes good, Ile tell thee what: yet goe:Nay but thou shalt stay too: I would my SonneWere in Arabia, and thy Tribe before him,His good Sword in his hand
Sicin. What then?Virg. When then? Hee'ld make an end of thy posterityVolum. Bastards, and all.Good man, the Wounds that he does beare for Rome!Menen. Come, come, peace
Sicin. I would he had continued to his CountryAs he began, and not vnknit himselfeThe Noble knot he made
Bru. I would he had
Volum. I would he had? Twas thou incenst the rable.Cats, that can iudge as fitly of his worth,As I can of those Mysteries which heauenWill not haue earth to know
Brut. Pray let's go
Volum. Now pray sir get you gone.You haue done a braue deede: Ere you go, heare this:As farre as doth the Capitoll exceedeThe meanest house in Rome; so farre my SonneThis Ladies Husband heere; this (do you see)Whom you haue banish'd, does exceed you all
Bru. Well, well, wee'l leaue you
Sicin. Why stay we to be baitedWith one that wants her Wits.
Exit Tribunes.
Volum. Take my Prayers with you.I would the Gods had nothing else to do,But to confirme my Cursses. Could I meete 'emBut once a day, it would vnclogge my heartOf what lyes heauy too't
Mene. You haue told them home,And by my troth you haue cause: you'l Sup with me
Volum. Angers my Meate: I suppe vpon my selfe,And so shall sterue with Feeding: come, let's go,Leaue this faint-puling, and lament as I do,In Anger, Iuno-like: Come, come, come.
Exeunt.
Mene. Fie, fie, fie.Enter.
Enter a Roman, and a Volce.
Rom. I know you well sir, and you know mee: your name I thinke is Adrian
Volce. It is so sir, truly I haue forgot you
Rom. I am a Roman, and my Seruices are as you are, against 'em. Know you me yet
Volce. Nicanor: no
Rom. The same sir
Volce. You had more Beard when I last saw you, but your Fauour is well appear'd by your Tongue. What's the Newes in Rome: I haue a Note from the Volcean state to finde you out there. You haue well saued mee a dayes iourney
Rom. There hath beene in Rome straunge Insurrections:The people, against the Senatours, Patricians, andNobles
Vol. Hath bin; is it ended then? Our State thinks not so, they are in a most warlike preparation, & hope to com vpon them, in the heate of their diuision Rom. The maine blaze of it is past, but a small thing would make it flame againe. For the Nobles receyue so to heart, the Banishment of that worthy Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptnesse, to take al power from the people, and to plucke from them their Tribunes for euer. This lyes glowing I can tell you, and is almost mature for the violent breaking out
Vol. Coriolanus Banisht?Rom. Banish'd sir
Vol. You will be welcome with this intelligence Nicanor
Rom. The day serues well for them now. I haue heard it saide, the fittest time to corrupt a mans Wife, is when shee's falne out with her Husband. Your Noble Tullus Auffidius will appeare well in these Warres, his great Opposer Coriolanus being now in no request of his countrey
Volce. He cannot choose: I am most fortunate, thus accidentally to encounter you. You haue ended my Businesse, and I will merrily accompany you home
Rom. I shall betweene this and Supper, tell you most strange things from Rome: all tending to the good of their Aduersaries. Haue you an Army ready say you? Vol. A most Royall one: The Centurions, and their charges distinctly billetted already in th' entertainment, and to be on foot at an houres warning
Rom. I am ioyfull to heare of their readinesse, and am the man I thinke, that shall set them in present Action. So sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your Company
Volce. You take my part from me sir, I haue the most cause to be glad of yours
Rom. Well, let vs go together.
Exeunt.
Enter Coriolanus in meane Apparrell, disguisd, and muffled.
Corio. A goodly City is this Antium. Citty,'Tis I that made thy Widdowes: Many an heyreOf these faire Edifices fore my WarresHaue I heard groane, and drop: Then know me not,Least that thy Wiues with Spits, and Boyes with stonesIn puny Battell slay me. Saue you sir.Enter a Citizen.
Cit. And you
Corio. Direct me, if it be your will, where great Auffidiuslies: Is he in Antium?Cit. He is, and Feasts the Nobles of the State, at hishouse this night
Corio. Which is his house, beseech you?Cit. This heere before you
Corio. Thanke you sir, farewell.
Exit Citizen
Oh World, thy slippery turnes! Friends now fast sworn,Whose double bosomes seemes to weare one heart,Whose Houres, whose Bed, whose Meale and ExerciseAre still together: who Twin (as 'twere) in Loue,Vnseparable, shall within this houre,On a dissention of a Doit, breake outTo bitterest Enmity: So fellest Foes,Whose Passions, and whose Plots haue broke their sleepTo take the one the other, by some chance,Some tricke not worth an Egge, shall grow deere friendsAnd inter-ioyne their yssues. So with me,My Birth-place haue I, and my loues vponThis Enemie Towne: Ile enter, if he slay meHe does faire Iustice: if he giue me way,Ile do his Country Seruice.
Enter.
Musicke playes. Enter a Seruingman.
1 Ser. Wine, Wine, Wine: What seruice is heere? I thinke our Fellowes are asleepe.
Enter another Seruingman.
2 Ser. Where's Cotus: my M[aster]. cals for him: Cotus.
Exit
Enter Coriolanus.
Corio. A goodly House:The Feast smels well: but I appeare not like a Guest.Enter the first Seruingman.
1 Ser. What would you haue Friend? whence are you?Here's no place for you: pray go to the doore?
Exit
Corio. I haue deseru'd no better entertainment, in beingCoriolanus.Enter second Seruant.
2 Ser. Whence are you sir? Ha's the Porter his eyes in his head, that he giues entrance to such Companions? Pray get you out
Corio. Away
2 Ser. Away? Get you away
Corio. Now th'art troublesome
2 Ser. Are you so braue: Ile haue you talkt with anonEnter 3 Seruingman, the 1 meets him.
3 What Fellowes this?1 A strange one as euer I look'd on: I cannot get himout o'thhouse: Prythee call my Master to him
3 What haue you to do here fellow? Pray you auoid the house
Corio. Let me but stand, I will not hurt your Harth
3 What are you? Corio. A Gentleman
3 A maru'llous poore one
Corio. True, so I am
3 Pray you poore Gentleman, take vp some other station:Heere's no place for you, pray you auoid: Come
Corio. Follow your Function, go, and batten on coldebits.
Pushes him away from him.
3 What you will not? Prythee tell my Maister what a strange Guest he ha's heere
2 And I shall.
Exit second Seruingman.
3 Where dwel'st thou?Corio. Vnder the Canopy
3 Vnder the Canopy?Corio. I
3 Where's that?Corio. I'th City of Kites and crowes
3 I'th City of Kites and Crowes? What an Asse it is,then thou dwel'st with Dawes too?Corio. No, I serue not thy Master
3 How sir? Do you meddle with my Master?Corio. I, tis an honester seruice, then to meddle withthy Mistris: Thou prat'st, and prat'st, serue with thy trencher:Hence.
Beats him away
Enter Auffidius with the Seruingman.
Auf. Where is this Fellow?2 Here sir, I'de haue beaten him like a dogge, but fordisturbing the Lords within
Auf. Whence com'st thou? What wouldst y? Thy name? Why speak'st not? Speake man: What's thy name? Corio. If Tullus not yet thou know'st me, and seeing me, dost not thinke me for the man I am, necessitie commands me name my selfe
Auf. What is thy name?Corio. A name vnmusicall to the Volcians eares,And harsh in sound to thine
Auf. Say, what's thy name?Thou hast a Grim apparance, and thy FaceBeares a Command in't: Though thy Tackles torne,Thou shew'st a Noble Vessell: What's thy name?Corio. Prepare thy brow to frowne: knowst y me yet?Auf. I know thee not? Thy Name:Corio. My name is Caius Martius, who hath doneTo thee particularly, and to all the VolcesGreat hurt and Mischiefe: thereto witnesse mayMy Surname Coriolanus. The painfull Seruice,The extreme Dangers, and the droppes of BloodShed for my thanklesse Country, are requitted:But with that Surname, a good memorieAnd witnesse of the Malice and DispleasureWhich thou should'st beare me, only that name remains.The Cruelty and Enuy of the people,Permitted by our dastard Nobles, whoHaue all forsooke me, hath deuour'd the rest:And suffer'd me by th' voyce of Slaues to beHoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity,Hath brought me to thy Harth, not out of Hope(Mistake me not) to saue my life: for ifI had fear'd death, of all the Men i'th' WorldI would haue voided thee. But in meere spightTo be full quit of those my Banishers,Stand I before thee heere: Then if thou hastA heart of wreake in thee, that wilt reuengeThine owne particular wrongs, and stop those maimesOf shame seene through thy Country, speed thee straightAnd make my misery serue thy turne: So vse it,That my reuengefull Seruices may proueAs Benefits to thee. For I will fightAgainst my Cankred Countrey, with the SpleeneOf all the vnder Fiends. But if so be,Thou dar'st not this, and that to proue more FortunesTh'art tyr'd, then in a word, I also amLonger to liue most wearie: and presentMy throat to thee, and to thy Ancient Malice:Which not to cut, would shew thee but a Foole,Since I haue euer followed thee with hate,Drawne Tunnes of Blood out of thy Countries brest,And cannot liue but to thy shame, vnlesseIt be to do thee seruice
Auf. Oh Martius, Martius;Each word thou hast spoke, hath weeded from my heartA roote of Ancient Enuy. If IupiterShould from yond clowd speake diuine things,And say 'tis true; I'de not beleeue them moreThen thee all-Noble Martius. Let me twineMine armes about that body, where againstMy grained Ash an hundred times hath broke,And scarr'd the Moone with splinters: heere I cleepThe Anuile of my Sword, and do contestAs hotly, and as Nobly with thy Loue,As euer in Ambitious strength, I didContend against thy Valour. Know thou first,I lou'd the Maid I married: neuer manSigh'd truer breath. But that I see thee heereThou Noble thing, more dances my rapt heart,Then when I first my wedded Mistris sawBestride my Threshold. Why, thou Mars I tell thee,We haue a Power on foote: and I had purposeOnce more to hew thy Target from thy Brawne,Or loose mine Arme for't: Thou hast beate mee outTwelue seuerall times, and I haue nightly sinceDreamt of encounters 'twixt thy selfe and me:We haue beene downe together in my sleepe,Vnbuckling Helmes, fisting each others Throat,And wak'd halfe dead with nothing. Worthy Martius,Had we no other quarrell else to Rome, but thatThou art thence Banish'd, we would muster allFrom twelue, to seuentie: and powring WarreInto the bowels of vngratefull Rome,Like a bold Flood o're-beate. Oh come, go in,And take our friendly Senators by'th' handsWho now are heere, taking their leaues of mee,Who am prepar'd against your Territories,Though not for Rome it selfe
Corio. You blesse me Gods
Auf. Therefore most absolute Sir, if thou wilt haueThe leading of thine owne Reuenges, takeTh' one halfe of my Commission, and set downeAs best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'stThy Countries strength and weaknesse, thine own waiesWhether to knocke against the Gates of Rome,Or rudely visit them in parts remote,To fright them, ere destroy. But come in,Let me commend thee first, to those that shallSay yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes,And more a Friend, then ere an Enemie,Yet Martius that was much. Your hand: most welcome.
Exeunt.
Enter two of the Seruingmen.
1 Heere's a strange alteration?2 By my hand, I had thoght to haue stroken him witha Cudgell, and yet my minde gaue me, his cloathes madea false report of him
1 What an Arme he has, he turn'd me about with his finger and his thumbe, as one would set vp a Top
2 Nay, I knew by his face that there was some-thing in him. He had sir, a kinde of face me thought, I cannot tell how to tearme it
1 He had so, looking as it were, would I were hang'dbut I thought there was more in him, then I could think
2 So did I, Ile be sworne: He is simply the rarest mani'th' world
1 I thinke he is: but a greater soldier then he,You wot one
2 Who my Master?1 Nay, it's no matter for that
2 Worth six on him
1 Nay not so neither: but I take him to be the greaterSouldiour
2 Faith looke you, one cannot tell how to say that: forthe Defence of a Towne, our Generall is excellent
1 I, and for an assault too.Enter the third Seruingman.
3 Oh Slaues, I can tell you Newes, News you RascalsBoth. What, what, what? Let's partake
3 I would not be a Roman of all Nations; I had asliue be a condemn'd man
Both. Wherefore? Wherefore?3 Why here's he that was wont to thwacke our Generall,Caius Martius
1 Why do you say, thwacke our Generall?3 I do not say thwacke our Generall, but he was alwayesgood enough for him2 Come we are fellowes and friends: he was euer toohard for him, I haue heard him say so himselfe
1 He was too hard for him directly, to say the Troth on't before Corioles, he scotcht him, and notcht him like a Carbinado
2 And hee had bin Cannibally giuen, hee might haue boyld and eaten him too
1 But more of thy Newes
3 Why he is so made on heere within, as if hee were Son and Heire to Mars, set at vpper end o'th' Table: No question askt him by any of the Senators, but they stand bald before him. Our Generall himselfe makes a Mistris of him, Sanctifies himselfe with's hand, and turnes vp the white o'th' eye to his Discourse. But the bottome of the Newes is, our Generall is cut i'th' middle, & but one halfe of what he was yesterday. For the other ha's halfe, by the intreaty and graunt of the whole Table. Hee'l go he sayes, and sole the Porter of Rome Gates by th' eares. He will mowe all downe before him, and leaue his passage poul'd
2 And he's as like to do't, as any man I can imagine
3 Doo't? he will doo't: for look you sir, he has as many Friends as Enemies: which Friends sir as it were, durst not (looke you sir) shew themselues (as we terme it) his Friends, whilest he's in Directitude
1 Directitude? What's that?3 But when they shall see sir, his Crest vp againe, andthe man in blood, they will out of their Burroughes (likeConies after Raine) and reuell all with him
1 But when goes this forward:3 To morrow, to day, presently, you shall haue theDrum strooke vp this afternoone: 'Tis as it were a parcelof their Feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips
2 Why then wee shall haue a stirring World againe: This peace is nothing, but to rust Iron, encrease Taylors, and breed Ballad-makers
1 Let me haue Warre say I, it exceeds peace as farre as day do's night: It's sprightly walking, audible, and full of Vent. Peace, is a very Apoplexy, Lethargie, mull'd, deafe, sleepe, insensible, a getter of more bastard Children, then warres a destroyer of men
2 'Tis so, and as warres in some sort may be saide to be a Rauisher, so it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of Cuckolds
1 I, and it makes men hate one another
3 Reason, because they then lesse neede one another: The Warres for my money. I hope to see Romanes as cheape as Volcians. They are rising, they are rising
Both. In, in, in, in.
Exeunt.
Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus.
Sicin. We heare not of him, neither need we fear him,His remedies are tame, the present peace,And quietnesse of the people, which beforeWere in wilde hurry. Heere do we make his FriendsBlush, that the world goes well: who rather had,Though they themselues did suffer by't, beholdDissentious numbers pestring streets, then seeOur Tradesmen singing in their shops, and goingAbout their Functions friendly.Enter Menenius.
Bru. We stood too't in good time. Is this Menenius?Sicin. 'Tis he, 'tis he: O he is grown most kind of late:Haile Sir
Mene. Haile to you both
Sicin. Your Coriolanus is not much mist, but with his Friends: the Commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, were he more angry at it
Mene. All's well, and might haue bene much better,if he could haue temporiz'd
Sicin. Where is he, heare you?Mene. Nay I heare nothing:His Mother and his wife, heare nothing from him.Enter three or foure Citizens.
All. The Gods preserue you both
Sicin. Gooden our Neighbours
Bru. Gooden to you all, gooden to you all
1 Our selues, our wiues, and children, on our knees, Are bound to pray for you both
Sicin. Liue, and thriue
Bru. Farewell kinde Neighbours:We wisht Coriolanus had lou'd you as we did
All. Now the Gods keepe you
Both Tri. Farewell, farewell.
Exeunt. Citizens
Sicin. This is a happier and more comely time,Then when these Fellowes ran about the streets,Crying Confusion
Bru. Caius Martius wasA worthy Officer i'th' Warre, but Insolent,O'recome with Pride, Ambitious, past all thinkingSelfe-louing
Sicin. And affecting one sole Throne, without assista[n]ceMene. I thinke not so
Sicin. We should by this, to all our Lamention,If he had gone forth Consull, found it so
Bru. The Gods haue well preuented it, and RomeSits safe and still, without him.Enter an aedile.
Aedile. Worthy Tribunes,There is a Slaue whom we haue put in prison,Reports the Volces with two seuerall PowersAre entred in the Roman Territories,And with the deepest malice of the Warre,Destroy, what lies before' em
Mene. 'Tis Auffidius,Who hearing of our Martius Banishment,Thrusts forth his hornes againe into the worldWhich were In-shell'd, when Martius stood for Rome,And durst not once peepe out
Sicin. Come, what talke you of Martius
Bru. Go see this Rumorer whipt, it cannot be,The Volces dare breake with vs
Mene. Cannot be?We haue Record, that very well it can,And three examples of the like, hath beeneWithin my Age. But reason with the fellowBefore you punish him, where he heard this,Least you shall chance to whip your Information,And beate the Messenger, who bids bewareOf what is to be dreaded
Sicin. Tell not me: I know this cannot be
Bru. Not possible.Enter a Messenger.
Mes. The Nobles in great earnestnesse are goingAll to the Senate-house: some newes is commingThat turnes their Countenances
Sicin. 'Tis this Slaue:Go whip him fore the peoples eyes: His raising,Nothing but his report
Mes. Yes worthy Sir,The Slaues report is seconded, and moreMore fearfull is deliuer'd
Sicin. What more fearefull?Mes. It is spoke freely out of many mouths,How probable I do not know, that MartiusIoyn'd with Auffidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,And vowes Reuenge as spacious, as betweeneThe yong'st and oldest thing
Sicin. This is most likely
Bru. Rais'd onely, that the weaker sort may wishGood Martius home againe