For myself, son,
I purpose128 not to wait on fortune till
These wars determine129: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts130
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread —
Trust to’t, thou shalt not — on thy mother’s womb
That brought thee to this world.
VIRGILIA Ay, and mine, that brought you forth this boy,
To keep your name living to time.
YOUNG MARTIUS a137 shall not tread on me:
I’ll run away till I am bigger, but then I’ll fight.
CORIOLANUS Not of a woman’s tenderness to be139,
Requires nor child nor woman’s face to see:
I have sat141 too long.
He rises and turns to leave
VOLUMNIA Nay, go not from us thus:
If it were so that our request did tend143
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us
As poisonous of your honour. No, our suit
Is that you reconcile them: while147 the Volsces
May say ‘This mercy we have showed’, the Romans,
‘This we received’, and each in either side
Give the all-hail150 to thee, and cry ‘Be blest
For making up this peace!’ Thou know’st, great son,
The end of war’s uncertain: but this152 certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses:
Whose chronicle thus writ: ‘The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it157 out,
Destroyed his country, and his name remains
To th’ensuing age abhorred.’ Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected160 the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods161,
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’th’air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt163
That should but rive164 an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think’st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still166 to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons. There’s no man in the world
More bound to’s mother, yet here he lets me prate
Like one i’th’stocks171. Thou hast never in thy life
Showed thy dear mother any courtesy,
When she, poor hen, fond of173,
Has clucked thee to the wars and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request’s unjust,
And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest177, and the gods will plague thee
That thou restrain’st178 from me the duty which
To a mother’s part belongs. He turns away:
Down, ladies: let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname ‘Coriolanus’ ’longs181 more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end:
This is the last. So we will home to Rome,
The Ladies and Young Martius kneel
And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold’s:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have185,
But kneels and holds up hands for fellowship,
Does reason187 our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny’t. Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to189 his mother:
His wife is in Corioles, and his child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch191:
I am hushed until our city be afire,
And then I’ll speak a little.
[Coriolanus] holds her by the hand, silent
CORIOLANUS O mother, mother!
What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O my mother, mother, O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome.
But for your son, believe it, O believe it,
Most dangerously you have with him prevailed,
If not most mortal201 to him. But let it come.
The Ladies and Young Martius rise
Aufidius, though I cannot make true202 wars,
I’ll frame convenient203 peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, would you have heard
A mother less? Or granted less, Aufidius?
AUFIDIUS I was moved withal206.
CORIOLANUS I dare be sworn you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat209 compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you’ll make, advise me. For my part,
I’ll not to Rome: I’ll back211 with you, and pray you
Stand to212 me in this cause.— O mother! Wife!
AUFIDIUS I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour
Aside
At difference in thee: out of that I’ll work
Myself a former fortune215.
CORIOLANUS Ay, by and by:
To the Ladies
But we will drink together, and you shall bear
A better witness218 back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have counter-sealed219.
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you: all the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms222,
Could not have made this peace.
Exeunt
running scene 20
Enter Menenius and Sicinius
MENENIUS See you yond coign1 o’th’Capitol, yond corner-stone?
SICINIUS Why, what of that?
MENENIUS If it be possible for you to displace it with your little
finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his
mother, may prevail with him. But I say there is no hope in’t:
our throats are sentenced and stay upon6 execution.
SICINIUS Is’t possible that so short a time can alter the
condition8 of a man?
MENENIUS There is differency9 between a grub and a butterfly,
yet your butterfly was a grub. This Martius is grown from
man to dragon: he has wings: he’s more than a creeping
thing.
SICINIUS He loved his mother dearly.
MENENIUS So did he me, and he no more remembers his
mother now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness of
his face sours ripe grapes. When he walks, he moves like
an engine17, and the ground shrinks before his treading. He is
able to pierce a corslet with his eye, talks like a knell18, and his
hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for19
Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with his bidding20.
He wants21 nothing of a god but eternity and a heaven to
throne22 in.
SICINIUS Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.
MENENIUS I paint him in the character24. Mark what mercy his
mother shall bring from him. There is no more mercy in him
than there is milk in a male tiger: that shall our poor city
find: and all this is long of27 you.
SICINIUS The gods be good unto us!
MENENIUS No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us.
When we banished him, we respected not them, and, he
returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER Sir, if you’d save your life, fly to your house:
To Sicinius
The plebeians have got your fellow tribune
And hale34 him up and down, all swearing if
The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
They’ll give him death by inches36.
Enter another Messenger
SICINIUS What’s the news?
SECOND MESSENGER Good news, good news: the ladies have prevailed,
The Volscians are dislodged39, and Martius gone:
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not th’expulsion of the Tarquins41.
SICINIUS Friend, art thou certain this is true?
Is’t most certain?
SECOND MESSENGER As certain as I know the sun is fire:
Where have you lurked that you make doubt of it?
Ne’er through an arch so hurried the blown46 tide
As the recomforted47 through th’gates.
Trumpets, hautboys, drums beat all together
Why, hark you:
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes48,
Tabors49 and cymbals and the shouting Romans
Make the sun dance.
A shout within
Hark you!
MENENIUS This is good news:
I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
A city full of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full. You have prayed well today:
This morning for ten thousand of your throats
I’d not have given a doit58.
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