Coriolanus

  THIRD SERVANT. O slaves, I can tell you news- news, yourascals!  BOTH. What, what, what? Let's partake.  THIRD SERVANT. I would not be a Roman, of all nations;    I had as lief be a condemn'd man.  BOTH. Wherefore? wherefore?  THIRD SERVANT. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack ourgeneral-    Caius Marcius.  FIRST SERVANT. Why do you say 'thwack our general'?  THIRD SERVANT. I do not say 'thwack our general,' but he wasalways    good enough for him.  SECOND SERVANT. Come, we are fellows and friends. He was evertoo    hard for him, I have heard him say so himself.  FIRST SERVANT. He was too hard for him directly, to say thetroth    on't; before Corioli he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a    carbonado.  SECOND SERVANT. An he had been cannibally given, he might have    broil'd and eaten him too.  FIRST SERVANT. But more of thy news!  THIRD SERVANT. Why, he is so made on here within as if he wereson    and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' th' table; no question    asked him by any of the senators but they stand bald beforehim.    Our general himself makes a mistress of him, sanctifieshimself    with's hand, and turns up the white o' th' eye to hisdiscourse.    But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' th'middle    and but one half of what he was yesterday, for the other hashalf    by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, hesays,    and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th' ears; he will mowall    down before him, and leave his passage poll'd.  SECOND SERVANT. And he's as like to do't as any man I canimagine.  THIRD SERVANT. Do't! He will do't; for look you, sir, he has as    many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it were,durst    not- look you, sir- show themselves, as we term it, hisfriends,    whilst he's in directitude.  FIRST SERVANT. Directitude? What's that?  THIRD SERVANT. But when they shall see, sir, his crest up againand    the man in blood, they will out of their burrows, like conies    after rain, and revel all with him.  FIRST SERVANT. But when goes this forward?  THIRD SERVANT. To-morrow, to-day, presently. You shall have the    drum struck up this afternoon; 'tis as it were parcel oftheir    feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.  SECOND SERVANT. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again.    This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and    breed ballad-makers.  FIRST SERVANT. Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as faras    day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full ofvent.    Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mull'd, deaf, sleepy,    insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a    destroyer of men.  SECOND SERVANT. 'Tis so; and as war in some sort may be said tobe    a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great makerof    cuckolds.  FIRST SERVANT. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.  THIRD SERVANT. Reason: because they then less need one another.The    wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap asVolscians.    They are rising, they are rising.  BOTH. In, in, in, in! Exeunt

SCENE VI. Rome. A public place

Enter the two Tribunes, SICINIUS and BRUTUS

  SICINIUS. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him.    His remedies are tame. The present peace    And quietness of the people, which before    Were in wild hurry, here do make his friends    Blush that the world goes well; who rather had,    Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold    Dissentious numbers pest'ring streets than see    Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going    About their functions friendly.

Enter MENENIUS

  BRUTUS. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?  SICINIUS. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind    Of late. Hail, sir!  MENENIUS. Hail to you both!  SICINIUS. Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd    But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand,    And so would do, were he more angry at it.  MENENIUS. All's well, and might have been much better    He could have temporiz'd.  SICINIUS. Where is he, hear you?  MENENIUS. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife    Hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four citizens

  CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both!  SICINIUS. God-den, our neighbours.  BRUTUS. God-den to you all, god-den to you all.  FIRST CITIZEN. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees    Are bound to pray for you both.  SICINIUS. Live and thrive!  BRUTUS. Farewell, kind neighbours; we wish'd Coriolanus    Had lov'd you as we did.  CITIZENS. Now the gods keep you!  BOTH TRIBUNES. Farewell, farewell. Exeunt citizens  SICINIUS. This is a happier and more comely time    Than when these fellows ran about the streets    Crying confusion.  BRUTUS. Caius Marcius was    A worthy officer i' the war, but insolent,    O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,    Self-loving-  SICINIUS. And affecting one sole throne,    Without assistance.  MENENIUS. I think not so.  SICINIUS. We should by this, to all our lamentation,    If he had gone forth consul, found it so.  BRUTUS. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome    Sits safe and still without him.

Enter an AEDILE

  AEDILE. Worthy tribunes,    There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,    Reports the Volsces with several powers    Are ent'red in the Roman territories,    And with the deepest malice of the war    Destroy what lies before 'em.  MENENIUS. 'Tis Aufidius,    Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,    Thrusts forth his horns again into the world,    Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,    And durst not once peep out.  SICINIUS. Come, what talk you of Marcius?  BRUTUS. Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be    The Volsces dare break with us.  MENENIUS. Cannot be!    We have record that very well it can;    And three examples of the like hath been    Within my age. But reason with the fellow    Before you punish him, where he heard this,    Lest you shall chance to whip your information    And beat the messenger who bids beware    Of what is to be dreaded.  SICINIUS. Tell not me.    I know this cannot be.  BRUTUS. Not possible.

Enter A MESSENGER

  MESSENGER. The nobles in great earnestness are going    All to the Senate House; some news is come    That turns their countenances.  SICINIUS. 'Tis this slave-    Go whip him fore the people's eyes- his raising,    Nothing but his report.  MESSENGER. Yes, worthy sir,    The slave's report is seconded, and more,    More fearful, is deliver'd.  SICINIUS. What more fearful?  MESSENGER. It is spoke freely out of many mouths-    How probable I do not know- that Marcius,    Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,    And vows revenge as spacious as between    The young'st and oldest thing.  SICINIUS. This is most likely!  BRUTUS. Rais'd only that the weaker sort may wish    Good Marcius home again.  SICINIUS. The very trick on 't.  MENENIUS. This is unlikely.    He and Aufidius can no more atone    Than violent'st contrariety.

Enter a second MESSENGER

  SECOND MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Senate.    A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius    Associated with Aufidius, rages    Upon our territories, and have already    O'erborne their way, consum'd with fire and took    What lay before them.

Enter COMINIUS

  COMINIUS. O, you have made good work!  MENENIUS. What news? what news?  COMINIUS. You have holp to ravish your own daughters and    To melt the city leads upon your pates,    To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses-  MENENIUS. What's the news? What's the news?  COMINIUS. Your temples burned in their cement, and    Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd    Into an auger's bore.  MENENIUS. Pray now, your news?    You have made fair work, I fear me. Pray, your news.    If Marcius should be join'd wi' th' Volscians-  COMINIUS. If!    He is their god; he leads them like a thing    Made by some other deity than Nature,    That shapes man better; and they follow him    Against us brats with no less confidence    Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,    Or butchers killing flies.  MENENIUS. You have made good work,    You and your apron men; you that stood so much    Upon the voice of occupation and    The breath of garlic-eaters!  COMINIUS. He'll shake    Your Rome about your ears.  MENENIUS. As Hercules    Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made fair work!  BRUTUS. But is this true, sir?  COMINIUS. Ay; and you'll look pale    Before you find it other. All the regions    Do smilingly revolt, and who resists    Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,    And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?    Your enemies and his find something in him.  MENENIUS. We are all undone unless    The noble man have mercy.  COMINIUS. Who shall ask it?    The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people    Deserve such pity of him as the wolf    Does of the shepherds; for his best friends, if they    Should say 'Be good to Rome'– they charg'd him even    As those should do that had deserv'd his hate,    And therein show'd like enemies.  MENENIUS. 'Tis true;    If he were putting to my house the brand    That should consume it, I have not the face    To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands,    You and your crafts! You have crafted fair!  COMINIUS. You have brought    A trembling upon Rome, such as was never    So incapable of help.  BOTH TRIBUNES. Say not we brought it.  MENENIUS. How! Was't we? We lov'd him, but, like beasts    And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,    Who did hoot him out o' th' city.  COMINIUS. But I fear    They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,    The second name of men, obeys his points    As if he were his officer. Desperation    Is all the policy, strength, and defence,    That Rome can make against them.

Enter a troop of citizens

  MENENIUS. Here comes the clusters.    And is Aufidius with him? You are they    That made the air unwholesome when you cast    Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at    Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming,    And not a hair upon a soldier's head    Which will not prove a whip; as many coxcombs    As you threw caps up will he tumble down,    And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter;    If he could burn us all into one coal    We have deserv'd it.  PLEBEIANS. Faith, we hear fearful news.  FIRST CITIZEN. For mine own part,    When I said banish him, I said 'twas pity.  SECOND CITIZEN. And so did I.  THIRD CITIZEN. And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very    many of us. That we did, we did for the best; and though we    willingly consented to his banishment, yet it was against our    will.  COMINIUS. Y'are goodly things, you voices!  MENENIUS. You have made    Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol?  COMINIUS. O, ay, what else?                                    Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS  SICINIUS. Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd;    These are a side that would be glad to have    This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,    And show no sign of fear.  FIRST CITIZEN. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let'shome. I    ever said we were i' th' wrong when we banish'd him.  SECOND CITIZEN. So did we all. But come, let's home.                                                 Exeunt citizens  BRUTUS. I do not like this news.  SICINIUS. Nor I.  BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth    Would buy this for a lie!  SICINIUS. Pray let's go. Exeunt

SCENE VII. A camp at a short distance from Rome

Enter AUFIDIUS with his LIEUTENANT

  AUFIDIUS. Do they still fly to th' Roman?  LIEUTENANT. I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but    Your soldiers use him as the grace fore meat,    Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;    And you are dark'ned in this action, sir,    Even by your own.  AUFIDIUS. I cannot help it now,    Unless by using means I lame the foot    Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,    Even to my person, than I thought he would    When first I did embrace him; yet his nature    In that's no changeling, and I must excuse    What cannot be amended.  LIEUTENANT. Yet I wish, sir-    I mean, for your particular- you had not    Join'd in commission with him, but either    Had borne the action of yourself, or else    To him had left it solely.  AUFIDIUS. I understand thee well; and be thou sure,    When he shall come to his account, he knows not    What I can urge against him. Although it seems,    And so he thinks, and is no less apparent    To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly    And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,    Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon    As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone    That which shall break his neck or hazard mine    Whene'er we come to our account.  LIEUTENANT. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?  AUFIDIUS. All places yield to him ere he sits down,    And the nobility of Rome are his;    The senators and patricians love him too.    The tribunes are no soldiers, and their people    Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty    To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome    As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it    By sovereignty of nature. First he was    A noble servant to them, but he could not    Carry his honours even. Whether 'twas pride,    Which out of daily fortune ever taints    The happy man; whether defect of judgment,    To fail in the disposing of those chances    Which he was lord of; or whether nature,    Not to be other than one thing, not moving    From th' casque to th' cushion, but commanding peace    Even with the same austerity and garb    As he controll'd the war; but one of these-    As he hath spices of them all- not all,    For I dare so far free him- made him fear'd,    So hated, and so banish'd. But he has a merit    To choke it in the utt'rance. So our virtues    Lie in th' interpretation of the time;    And power, unto itself most commendable,    Hath not a tomb so evident as a cheer    T' extol what it hath done.    One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;    Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.    Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,    Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.                                                          Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE I. Rome. A public place

Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS and BRUTUS, the two Tribunes, with others

  MENENIUS. No, I'll not go. You hear what he hath said    Which was sometime his general, who lov'd him    In a most dear particular. He call'd me father;    But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him:    A mile before his tent fall down, and knee    The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coy'd    To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.  COMINIUS. He would not seem to know me.  MENENIUS. Do you hear?  COMINIUS. Yet one time he did call me by my name.    I urg'd our old acquaintance, and the drops    That we have bled together. 'Coriolanus'    He would not answer to; forbid all names;    He was a kind of nothing, titleless,    Till he had forg'd himself a name i' th' fire    Of burning Rome.  MENENIUS. Why, so! You have made good work.    A pair of tribunes that have wrack'd for Rome    To make coals cheap- a noble memory!  COMINIUS. I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon    When it was less expected; he replied,    It was a bare petition of a state    To one whom they had punish'd.  MENENIUS. Very well.    Could he say less?  COMINIUS. I offer'd to awaken his regard    For's private friends; his answer to me was,    He could not stay to pick them in a pile    Of noisome musty chaff. He said 'twas folly,    For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt    And still to nose th' offence.  MENENIUS. For one poor grain or two!    I am one of those. His mother, wife, his child,    And this brave fellow too- we are the grains:    You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt    Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.  SICINIUS. Nay, pray be patient; if you refuse your aid    In this so never-needed help, yet do not    Upbraid's with our distress. But sure, if you    Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,    More than the instant army we can make,    Might stop our countryman.  MENENIUS. No; I'll not meddle.  SICINIUS. Pray you go to him.  MENENIUS. What should I do?  BRUTUS. Only make trial what your love can do    For Rome, towards Marcius.  MENENIUS. Well, and say that Marcius    Return me, as Cominius is return'd,    Unheard- what then?    But as a discontented friend, grief-shot    With his unkindness? Say't be so?  SICINIUS. Yet your good will    Must have that thanks from Rome after the measure    As you intended well.  MENENIUS. I'll undertake't;    I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip    And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me.    He was not taken well: he had not din'd;    The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then    We pout upon the morning, are unapt    To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd    These pipes and these conveyances of our blood    With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls    Than in our priest-like fasts. Therefore I'll watch him    Till he be dieted to my request,    And then I'll set upon him.  BRUTUS. You know the very road into his kindness    And cannot lose your way.  MENENIUS. Good faith, I'll prove him,    Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge    Of my success. Exit  COMINIUS. He'll never hear him.  SICINIUS. Not?  COMINIUS. I tell you he does sit in gold, his eye    Red as 'twould burn Rome, and his injury    The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;    'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise'; dismiss'd me    Thus with his speechless hand. What he would do,    He sent in writing after me; what he would not,    Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions;    So that all hope is vain,    Unless his noble mother and his wife,    Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him    For mercy to his country. Therefore let's hence,    And with our fair entreaties haste them on. Exeunt

SCENE II. The Volscian camp before Rome

Enter MENENIUS to the WATCH on guard

  FIRST WATCH. Stay. Whence are you?  SECOND WATCH. Stand, and go back.  MENENIUS. You guard like men, 'tis well; but, by your leave,    I am an officer of state and come    To speak with Coriolanus.  FIRST WATCH. From whence?  MENENIUS. From Rome.  FIRST WATCH. You may not pass; you must return. Our general    Will no more hear from thence.  SECOND WATCH. You'll see your Rome embrac'd with fire before    You'll speak with Coriolanus.  MENENIUS. Good my friends,    If you have heard your general talk of Rome    And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks    My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius.  FIRST WATCH. Be it so; go back. The virtue of your name    Is not here passable.  MENENIUS. I tell thee, fellow,    Thy general is my lover. I have been    The book of his good acts whence men have read    His fame unparallel'd haply amplified;    For I have ever verified my friends-    Of whom he's chief- with all the size that verity    Would without lapsing suffer. Nay, sometimes,    Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,    I have tumbled past the throw, and in his praise    Have almost stamp'd the leasing; therefore, fellow,    I must have leave to pass.  FIRST WATCH. Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in hisbehalf    as you have uttered words in your own, you should not passhere;    no, though it were as virtuous to lie as to live chastely.    Therefore go back.  MENENIUS. Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always    factionary on the party of your general.  SECOND WATCH. Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you    have, I am one that, telling true under him, must say youcannot    pass. Therefore go back.  MENENIUS. Has he din'd, canst thou tell? For I would not speakwith    him till after dinner.  FIRST WATCH. You are a Roman, are you?  MENENIUS. I am as thy general is.  FIRST WATCH. Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you,when    you have push'd out your gates the very defender of them, andin    a violent popular ignorance given your enemy your shield,think    to front his revenges with the easy groans of old women, the    virginal palms of your daughters, or with the palsied    intercession of such a decay'd dotant as you seem to be? Canyou    think to blow out the intended fire your city is ready toflame    in with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceiv'd;therefore    back to Rome and prepare for your execution. You arecondemn'd;    our general has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon.  MENENIUS. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would useme    with estimation.  FIRST WATCH. Come, my captain knows you not.  MENENIUS. I mean thy general.  FIRST WATCH. My general cares not for you. Back, I say; go,lest I    let forth your half pint of blood. Back- that's the utmost of    your having. Back.  MENENIUS. Nay, but fellow, fellow-

Enter CORIOLANUS with AUFIDIUS

  CORIOLANUS. What's the matter?  MENENIUS. Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you; youshall    know now that I am in estimation; you shall perceive that aJack    guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus. Guess butby my    entertainment with him if thou stand'st not i' th' state of    hanging, or of some death more long in spectatorship andcrueller    in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's tocome    upon thee. The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy    particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy oldfather    Menenius does! O my son! my son! thou art preparing fire forus;    look thee, here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved tocome    to thee; but being assured none but myself could move thee, I    have been blown out of your gates with sighs, and conjurethee to    pardon Rome and thy petitionary countrymen. The good godsassuage    thy wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet here;this,    who, like a block, hath denied my access to thee.  CORIOLANUS. Away!  MENENIUS. How! away!  CORIOLANUS. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs    Are servanted to others. Though I owe    My revenge properly, my remission lies    In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,    Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison rather    Than pity note how much. Therefore be gone.    Mine ears against your suits are stronger than    Your gates against my force. Yet, for I lov'd thee,    Take this along; I writ it for thy sake [Gives a letter]    And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius,    I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,    Was my belov'd in Rome; yet thou behold'st.  AUFIDIUS. You keep a constant temper.                                  Exeunt CORIOLANUS and Aufidius  FIRST WATCH. Now, sir, is your name Menenius?  SECOND WATCH. 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power! You knowthe    way home again.  FIRST WATCH. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your    greatness back?  SECOND WATCH. What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?  MENENIUS. I neither care for th' world nor your general; forsuch    things as you, I can scarce think there's any, y'are soslight.    He that hath a will to die by himself fears it not fromanother.    Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are,long;    and your misery increase with your age! I say to you, as Iwas    said to: Away! Exit  FIRST WATCH. A noble fellow, I warrant him.  SECOND WATCH. The worthy fellow is our general; he's the rock,the    oak not to be wind-shaken. Exeunt

SCENE III. The tent of CORIOLANUS

Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others

  CORIOLANUS. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow    Set down our host. My partner in this action,    You must report to th' Volscian lords how plainly    I have borne this business.  AUFIDIUS. Only their ends    You have respected; stopp'd your ears against    The general suit of Rome; never admitted    A private whisper- no, not with such friends    That thought them sure of you.  CORIOLANUS. This last old man,    Whom with crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,    Lov'd me above the measure of a father;    Nay, godded me indeed. Their latest refuge    Was to send him; for whose old love I have-    Though I show'd sourly to him- once more offer'd    The first conditions, which they did refuse    And cannot now accept. To grace him only,    That thought he could do more, a very little    I have yielded to; fresh embassies and suits,    Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter    Will I lend ear to. [Shout within] Ha! what shout is this?    Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow    In the same time 'tis made? I will not.Enter, in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, VALERIA, YOUNG MARCIUS, with attendants    My wife comes foremost, then the honour'd mould    Wherein this trunk was fram'd, and in her hand    The grandchild to her blood. But out, affection!    All bond and privilege of nature, break!    Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.    What is that curtsy worth? or those doves' eyes,    Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not    Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows,    As if Olympus to a molehill should    In supplication nod; and my young boy    Hath an aspect of intercession which    Great nature cries 'Deny not.' Let the Volsces    Plough Rome and harrow Italy; I'll never    Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand    As if a man were author of himself    And knew no other kin.  VIRGILIA. My lord and husband!  CORIOLANUS. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.  VIRGILIA. The sorrow that delivers us thus chang'd    Makes you think so.  CORIOLANUS. Like a dull actor now    I have forgot my part and I am out,    Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,    Forgive my tyranny; but do not say,    For that, 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss    Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!    Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss    I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip    Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,    And the most noble mother of the world    Leave unsaluted. Sink, my knee, i' th' earth; [Kneels]    Of thy deep duty more impression show    Than that of common sons.  VOLUMNIA. O, stand up blest!    Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint    I kneel before thee, and unproperly    Show duty, as mistaken all this while    Between the child and parent. [Kneels]  CORIOLANUS. What's this?    Your knees to me, to your corrected son?    Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach    Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds    Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun,    Murd'ring impossibility, to make    What cannot be slight work.  VOLUMNIA. Thou art my warrior;    I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?  CORIOLANUS. The noble sister of Publicola,    The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle    That's curdied by the frost from purest snow,    And hangs on Dian's temple- dear Valeria!  VOLUMNIA. This is a poor epitome of yours,    Which by th' interpretation of full time    May show like all yourself.  CORIOLANUS. The god of soldiers,    With the consent of supreme Jove, inform    Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst prove    To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars    Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,    And saving those that eye thee!  VOLUMNIA. Your knee, sirrah.  CORIOLANUS. That's my brave boy.  VOLUMNIA. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,    Are suitors to you.  CORIOLANUS. I beseech you, peace!    Or, if you'd ask, remember this before:    The thing I have forsworn to grant may never    Be held by you denials. Do not bid me    Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate    Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not    Wherein I seem unnatural; desire not    T'allay my rages and revenges with    Your colder reasons.  VOLUMNIA. O, no more, no more!    You have said you will not grant us any thing-    For we have nothing else to ask but that    Which you deny already; yet we will ask,    That, if you fail in our request, the blame    May hang upon your hardness; therefore hear us.  CORIOLANUS. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll    Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?  VOLUMNIA. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment    And state of bodies would bewray what life    We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself    How more unfortunate than all living women    Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which should    Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,    Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow,    Making the mother, wife, and child, to see    The son, the husband, and the father, tearing    His country's bowels out. And to poor we    Thine enmity's most capital: thou bar'st us    Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort    That all but we enjoy. For how can we,    Alas, how can we for our country pray,    Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,    Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose    The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,    Our comfort in the country. We must find    An evident calamity, though we had    Our wish, which side should win; for either thou    Must as a foreign recreant be led    With manacles through our streets, or else    Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,    And bear the palm for having bravely shed    Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,    I purpose not to wait on fortune till    These wars determine; if I can not persuade thee    Rather to show a noble grace to both parts    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.  BOY. 'A 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 be    Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.    I have sat too long. [Rising]  VOLUMNIA. Nay, go not from us thus.    If it were so that our request did tend    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: while the Volsces    May say 'This mercy we have show'd,' the Romans    'This we receiv'd,' and each in either side    Give the all-hail to thee, and cry 'Be blest    For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,    The end of war's uncertain; but this certain,    That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit    Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name    Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;    Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,    But with his last attempt he wip'd it out,    Destroy'd his country, and his name remains    To th' ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son.    Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,    To imitate the graces of the gods,    To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,    And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt    That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?    Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man    Still 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' stocks. Thou hast never in thy life    Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,    When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,    Has cluck'd 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 honest, and the gods will plague thee,    That thou restrain'st 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 'longs more pride    Than pity to our prayers. Down. An end;    This is the last. So we will home to Rome,    And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold's!    This boy, that cannot tell what he would have    But kneels and holds up hands for fellowship,    Does reason our petition with more strength    Than thou hast to deny't. Come, let us go.    This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;    His wife is in Corioli, and his child    Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch.    I am hush'd until our city be afire,    And then I'll speak a little.                              [He 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 prevail'd,    If not most mortal to him. But let it come.    Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,    I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,    Were you in my stead, would you have heard    A mother less, or granted less, Aufidius?  AUFIDIUS. I was mov'd withal.  CORIOLANUS. I dare be sworn you were!    And, sir, it is no little thing to make    Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,    What peace you'll make, advise me. For my part,    I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you    Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife!  AUFIDIUS. [Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy      honour    At difference in thee. Out of that I'll work    Myself a former fortune.  CORIOLANUS. [To the ladies] Ay, by and by;    But we will drink together; and you shall bear    A better witness back than words, which we,    On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd.    Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve    To have a temple built you. All the swords    In Italy, and her confederate arms,    Could not have made this peace. Exeunt