Subtitle By SUNNY_II & Oceanic 6
Thousands wait for food
Senate declares state of emergency
General Martius Suspends civil liberties
A place calling itself Rome
Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
Resolved. resolved.
First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.
We know't, we know't.
Let us kill him,
and we'll have corn at our own price.
We are accounted poor citizens,the patricians good.
the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery;
our sufferance is a gain to them.
Let us revenge this with our sticks and we become rakes.
No more talking on it,come.
Soft! soft!
who comes here?
Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.
I tell you, friends, most charitable care Have the patricians of you.
For your wants, Your suffering in this dearth,
you may as well Strike at the heaven with your staves
as lift them Against the Roman state,
suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain.
Central Grain Depot Rome
Bread!
Bread!Bread!
What's the matter,
you dissentious rogues,That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?
We have ever your good word.
He that will give good words to thee will flatter
Beneath abhorring.
What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes you proud.
He that trusts to you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese.
Who deserves greatness, Deserves your hate;
Hang ye! Trust Ye?
With every minute you do change a mind,
And call him noble that was now your hate,
Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter,
That in these several places of the city
You cry against the noble senate, who, under the gods, keep you in awe,
which else would feed on one another?
Go!
Get your home,
you fragments!
Stand back!
Ancient Volscian border dispute flares
Tullus Aufidius threatens Volscain attack on Rome
Volscian headquarters Antium
Please.
know you me yet?
I know you well,
your name, I think, is Aufidius.
It is so.
I am a Roman.
What's the news in Rome?
There hath been in Rome strange insurrections;
the people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.
Hath been!
- is it ended, then? - The main blaze of it is past,
but a small thing would make it flame again
you have ended my business.
Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us; The Volsces are in arms.
They have a leader,Tullus Aufidius,
that will put you to't.
I sin in envying his nobility,
And were I any thing but what I am, I would wish me only he.
You have fought together.
he is a lion that I am proud to hunt.
Titus Lartius, thou Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face
Lead you on.
So, your opinion is, Aufidius,
That they of Rome are entered in our counsels...
- And know how we proceed. - Is it not yours?
'Tis not four days gone Since I heard thence;
By the discovery We shall be shorten'd in our aim.
and it is rumour'd, Marcius your old enemy, lead on this preparation.
If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike Till one can do no more.
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He's mine, or I am his
Volscian city of Corioles
He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, And he shall feel mine edge.
Go!
The citizens of Corioli have issued, And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle.
I saw our party to their trenches driven, And then I came away.
I pray you, daughter, sing;
or express yourself in a more comfortable sort.
if my son were my husband,
I'm more free with rejoice in that absence
wherein he won honour...
than in the embracements of his bed where he would show most love.
When yet he was but tender-bodied
and the only son of my womb,
I, considering how honour would become such a person.
was pleased to let him seek danger,
where he was like to find fame.
To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned,
his brows bound with oak.
But had he died in the business, madam; how then?
Then...
his good report should have been my son;
Hear me.
had I a dozen sons,
I had rather had eleven die
nobly for their country
than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!
He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee And tread upon his neck
Methinks I hear...
hither your husband's drum,
Methinks I see him stamp
thus, and call thus
'Come on, you cowards!
you were got in fear, Though you were born in Rome'
You souls of geese,
That bear the shapes of men,
Pluto and hell! look to't, come on.
Mend and charge home,
Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe
And make my wars on you
his bloody brow With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes,
His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!
Away, you fool!
it more becomes a man Than gilt his trophy
The Senator Valeria is come to visit you.
Tell Valeria,We are fit to bid her welcome.
- Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. - Indeed, you shall not.
My ladies both, good day to you.
How do you both?
How does your little son?
Thank you,so well good.
He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his school-master.
O' my word, the father's son
Come, I must have you play the idle husewife with me this afternoon.
- No signore, non voglio uscire. - No, I will not out of doors.
- She shall, she shall. - Indeed, no, by your patience
I'll not over the threshold till my lord return from the wars.
Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably
I cannot go thither.
You would be another Penelope
yet, they say, all the yarn she spun in
Ulysses' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths.
No, pardon me,indeed, I will not forth
go with me and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.
- Ma e' troppo presto per averne. - there came news from him last night.
Indeed?
your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioli
they nothing doubt prevailing and to make it brief wars.
This is true, on mine honour and so, I pray, go out with us.
Give me excuse, But it's Ah... I will obey you in every thing hereafter.
Let her alone, as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.
What is become of Marcius?
Slain, sir, doubtless.
he is himself alone, To answer all the city.
Thou art left, Marcius
Who's yonder,that does appear as he were flay'd?
O gods, he has the stamp of Marcius
Come I too late?
Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own.
O, let me clip ye In arms as sound as when I woo'd,
in heart as merry as when our nuptial day was done
There is the man of my soul's hate,
Aufidius, Piercing my Romans.
Worthy sir, thou bleed'st.
Thy exercise hath been too violent for A second course of fight.
Sir, praise me not; My work hath yet not warm'd me
The blood I drop is rather physical Than dangerous to me
to Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight.
If any such be here... As it were sin to doubt
that love this painting Wherein you see me smear'd
if any fear Lesser his person than an ill report
If any think brave death outweighs bad life
And that his country's dearer than himself Let him alone,
or so many so minded, Wave thus, to express his disposition,
And follow Marcius!
O, me alone!
make you a sword of me.
Avanza, valoroso Tito!
Away!
- Come! - Come!
I'll fight with none but thee
for I do hate thee
We hate alike
Five times, Marcius, I have fought with thee
so often hast thou beat me,
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter As often as we eat.
for where I thought to crush him in an equal force,
True sword to sword,
I'll potch at him some way
Or wrath or craft may get him.
He's the devil.
Bolder, though not so subtle.
nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
shall lift up their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst my hate to Marcius
where I find him,
were it at home, upon my brother's guard,
even there,
would I wash my fierce hand in's heart.
Honourable Menenius!
my boy Marcius approaches;
for the love of Juno, let's go.
Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.
O, yes, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't.
So do I too, if it be not too much
brings a' victory in his pocket? the wounds become him.
Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?
Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.
In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. The gods grant them true!
- True? - I'll be sworn they are true.
- Where is he wounded? - 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 had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.
Now it's twenty-seven
every gash was an enemy's grave.
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.
be it known, as to us, to all the world
that Caius Marcius Wears this war's garland
and from this time, For what he did before Corioli,
call him,With all the applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS!
Bear the addition nobly ever!
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS
No more of this; it does offend my heart: Pray now, no more.
Look, sir, your mother!
O,You have, I know, petition'd all the gods For my prosperity!
Nay, my good soldier, up.
My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius,
and by deed-achieving honour newly named, What is it?
Coriolanus must I call you?
But O, thy wife!
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, Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
And mothers that lack sons.
- Now, the gods crown thee! - And live you yet?
I could weep and I could laugh, I am light and heavy.
I know not where to turn
O, you're welcome home and ye're welcome all.
- A hundred thousand welcomes. - Welcome home!
Welcome home,welcome!
Benvenuto Coriolano!
Will newly general coriolanus stand for consulship?
'Tis thought 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, As to Jove's statue,
and the commons made a shower and thunder with their caps and shouts I never saw the like.
Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?
He has no equal.
When we were chosen tribunes for the people...
- Mark'd you his lip and eyes? - Nay. but his taunts.
The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.
Good or bad?
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
You blame Marcius for being proud?
We do it not alone, sir.
I know you can do very little 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!
What then, sir?
Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates,
alias fools, as any in Rome.
Menenius,
you are known well enough too.
I am known to be a humorous patrician,
and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying tiber in't
one that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning
what I think I utter
and spend my malice in my breath.
Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.
You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing.
You are ambitious
God-den to your worships
more of your conversation would infect my brain
How many stand for consulships?
Three, they say, but 'tis thought of every one Coriolanus will carry it.
That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and loves not the common people.
there had been many great men that have flattered the people, who ne'er loved them
therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate him
manifests the true knowledge he has in their disposition
and out of his noble carelessness lets them plainly see't.
but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than can render it him
That seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people is
as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.
Consider you what services he has done for his country?
Very well; and could be content to give him good report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud.
Nay, but speak not maliciously.
The good patricians must be visited; From whom I have received not only greetings,
But with them change of honours.
I have lived to see inherited my very wishes
And the buildings of my fancy There's one thing wanting,
which I doubt not but
Our Rome will cast upon thee.
Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way,
Than sway with them in theirs.
coriolanus wil win.
Well, he's a good man,he'll win.
- All tongues speak of him. - On the sudden,I warrant him consul.
Then our office may, During his power, go sleep.
He cannot temperately transport his honours from where he should begin and end,
but will Lose those he hath won.
I heard him swear, 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.
It was his word, It shall be to him then as our good wills,a sure destruction.
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
To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.
As the main point of this our after-meeting, To gratify his noble service that
Hath thus stood for his country
therefore,please you,Most reverend and grave elders
to desire the present consul, and last general In our well-found successes
to report a little of that worthy work perform'd By Caius Marcius Coriolanus
Speak, good Cominius
Nay, keep your place.
Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear What you have nobly done.
Your horror's pardon, I had rather have my wounds to heal again
Than hear say how I got them.
Pray now, sit down.
I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun when the alarum were struck
than idly sit To hear my nothings monster'd.
- Parla, buon Comino. - Cominio, procedi.
The deeds of Coriolanus Should not be utter'd feebly.
It is held that valour is the chiefest virtue, and most dignifies the haver
if it be,the man I speak of
cannot in the world be singly counterpoised.
At sixteen years, he fought beyond the mark of others
When he might act the woman in the scene, he proved best man i' the field,
And in the brunt of seventeen battles since He lurch'd all swords of the garland.
For this last, Before and in Corioli,
let me say,I cannot speak him home
he stopp'd the fliers; and by his rare example
made the coward turn terror into sport
from face to foot
He was a thing of blood, whose every motion was timed with dying cries
alone he enter'd The mortal gate of the city,
which he painted with shunless destiny; aidless came off,
and with a sudden reinforcement struck Corioli like a planet
and till we call'd Both field and city ours,
he never stood To ease his breast with panting.
Our spoils he kick'd at,and look'd upon things precious as they were
And look'd upon things precious as they were The common muck of the world
he covets less Than misery itself would give;
rewards his deeds with doing them, and is content to spend the time to end it.
The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased to make thee consul.
I do owe them still my life and services.
It then remains that you do speak to the people.
I do beseech you, let me o'erleap that custom,
for I cannot entreat them, for my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage
please you that I may pass this doing.
Sir,
the people must have their voices
Pray you, go fit you to the custom
It is apart that I shall blush in acting, and might well be taken from the people.
- Mark you that? - To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus
Show them the unaching scars which I should hide,
As if I had received them for the hire of their breath only!
and to our noble consul wish we all joy and honour.
The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased To make thee consul.
I do owe them still my life and services.
It then remains that you do speak to the people.
- Let me o'erleap that custom, - The people must have their voices
have you not known the worthiest men have done't?
Custom calls me to't: what custom wills, in all things should we do't,
What must I say?
Look, sir, my wounds! I got them in my country's service,
O me, the gods! You must not speak of that
- you must desire them to think upon you. - Think upon me!
hang 'em!I would they would forget me
pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, In wholesome manner.
Bid them wash their faces and keep their teeth clean.
You know the cause, air, of my standing here.
We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't.
- Mine own desert. - Your own desert!
- Ay, but not mine own desire. - How not your own desire?
No, 'twas never my desire yet to trouble the poor with begging.
You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to gain by you.
Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship?
The price is to ask it kindly.
Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't
I have wounds to show you, which shall be yours in private
Your good voice, sir; what say you?
You shall ha' it,worthy sir.
A match, sir.
There's in all two worthy voices begged, adieu.
But this is something odd.
Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your voices that I may be consul,
You have deserved nobly of your country, and you have not deserved nobly.
Your enigma?
You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have been a rod to her friends;
you have not indeed loved the common people.
You should account me the more virtuous that I have not been common in my love.
Noi speriamo d'averti amico
We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give you our voices heartily.
I will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further.
The gods give you joy, sir, heartily!
Your voices
for your voices I have fought;
Watch'd for your voices;
Your voices bear Of wounds two dozen odd;
battles thrice six I have seen and heard of;
for your voices have Done many things,
some less,some more
your voices,
Indeed
I would be consul.
He has done nobly,
and cannot go without any honest man's voice.
Therefore let him be consul
Amen! Amen!
Worthy voices!
Worthy voices!Worthy voices!
You have stood your limitation;
and the tribunes endue you with the people's voice
Is this done?
The custom of request you have discharged
The people do admit you,
and are summon'd To meet anon, upon your approbation.
- Where? at the senate-house? - There, Coriolanus.
- May I change these garments? - You may, sir.
I'll keep you company. Will you along?
We stay here for the people.
God save thee, noble consul!
Consul! Consul!
How now, my masters!
my masters, my masters!
My masters, how now?!
have you chose this man?
Yes!
He has our voices, sir.
We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.
Amen, sir
to my poor unworthy notice, He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices.
He flouted us downright.
No, no,no, no
No,'tis his kind of speech, he did not mock us.
he should have show'd us His marks of merit,
wounds received for's country.
Why, I am sure,so he did.
No, he didn't.
No, no; no one saw 'em.
Was not this mockery?
Yes!yes!
when he had no power,but was a petty servant to the state,He was your enemy,
ever spake against your liberties
Did you perceive he did solicit you in free contempt when he did need your loves
and do you think
That his contempt shall not be bruising to you, When he hath power to crush?
Yes! yes!
He's not confirm'd!
- we may deny him yet. - Yes! yes!
And will deny him
I'll have five hundred voices of that sound.
Yes!
I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em.
Yes!
Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends, they have chose a consul
that will from them take their liberties
Let them assemble,and on a safer judgment all revoke Your ignorant election;
enforce his pride, and his old hate unto you
And presently, when you have drawn your number, Repair to the Senate.
- Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? - He had, my lord.
- Saw you Aufidius? - he is retired to Antium.
- Spoke he of me? - He did, my lord.
- How? what? - How often he had met you, sword to sword;
That of all things upon the earth he hated Your person most,
- At Antium lives he? - At Antium.
I wish I had a cause to seek him there, To oppose his hatred fully.
Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, The tongues o' the common mouth
- Pass no further. - Ha! what is that?
It will be dangerous to go on
- What makes this change? - The matter?
Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common?
- Cominius, no. - Have I had children's voices?
- Tribunes, give way. - The people are incensed against him.
- Are these your herd? - Be calm, be calm.
The people cry you mock'd them, They made call'd them
Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.
- Why, this was known before. - You show too much of that for which the people stir
if you will pass to where you are bound, you must inquire your way,with a gentler spirit,
- Let's be calm. - The people are abused; set on.
This was my speech, and I will speak't again...
Not now, not now.
Not in this heat, sir, now.
My nobler friends, I crave their pardons
For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them Regard me as I do not flatter,
and therein behold themselves
I say again,
In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate
The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd,
By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, who lack not virtue, no, nor power,
- but that which they have given to beggars. - Well, no more.
No more words, we beseech you.
You speak o' the people, as if you were a god to punish, not a man of their infirmity.
'Twere well We let the people know't.
Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, By Jove, 'twould be my mind!
It is a mind that shall remain a poison where it is, not poison any further.
Shall remain!Hear you this Triton of the minnows?
mark you his absolute 'shall'?
Why, shall the people give One that speaks thus their voice?
I'll give my reasons, More worthier than their voices.
By Jove himself!
It makes the consuls base
and my soul aches to know,
when two authorities are up, neither supreme,
how soon confusion may enter 'twixt the gap of both and take the one by the other.
Thus we debase the nature of our seats
and make the rabble call our cares fears which will in time
Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in the crows to peck the eagles.
- Come, enough. - Enough, with over-measure.
Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer as traitors do.
Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee!
- Manifest treason! - This a consul? no.
Hence, old goat!
On both sides more respect.
Here's he that would take from you all your power.
You are at point to lose your liberties
Marcius would have all from you;
Marcius, whom late you have named for consul.
What is the city but the people?
True, the people are the city.
the people are the city.
We do here pronounce, Upon the part o' the people,
Marcius is worthy of present death.
Death! Death!
seize him!
No, I'll die here.
Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! All will be naught else.
Come, sir, along with us.
As I do know the consul's worthiness, So can I name his faults,...
Consul! what consul?
- The consul Coriolanus. - He consul!
- It is decreed he dies to-night. - He's a disease that must be cut away.
O, he's a limb that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome that's worthy death?
Killing our enemies?
the blood he hath lost... he dropp'd it for his country;
- This is clean kam. - We'll hear no more.
Consider This!
he has been bred i' the wars Since he could draw a sword.
and is ill school'd In bolted language.
Give me leave, I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form In peace
to his utmost peril.
Noble tribunes, It is the humane way.
- Menenius... - Be you then as the people's officer.
if you bring not Marcius...
we'll proceed In our first way.
I'll bring him to you.
Let them puff all about mine ears!
present me Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels,
yet will I still Be thus to them.
I muse my mother Does not approve me further!
I talk of you Why did you wish me milder?
would you have me False to my nature?
Rather say I play The man I am.
O, sir, sir, sir,
I would have had you put your power well on, Before you had worn it out.
Let go!
You might have been enough the man you are, With striving less to be so
- Let them hang! - Ay, and burn too!
Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough;
You must return and mend it.
There's no remedy;unless, by not so doing, our good city cleave in the midst, and perish.
Pray, be counsell'd:
I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain...
that leads my use of anger To better vantage.
- Well said, noble woman. - What must I do?
- Return to the tribunes. - Well, what then? what then?
- Repent what you have spoke. - For them?
I cannot do it to the gods; Must I then do't to them?
You are too absolute;
I have heard you say,
Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, I' the war do grow together
Why force you this?
Because that now it lies you on to speak To the people
ot by your own instruction,
Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
But with such words that are but rooted in Your tongue,
hough but bastards and syllables Of no allowance to your bosom's truth.
I would dissemble with my nature
where my fortunes and my friends at stake required I should do so in honour
I am in this, Your wife,
your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you.
I prithee now, my son,
Go to them,
be with them,
say to them,
Thou art their soldier,
and being bred in broils Hast not the soft way
In asking their good loves.
but...
thou wilt frame Thyself,
forsooth, hereafter theirs.
This but done, Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
Prithee now, Go, and be ruled.
sir,'tis fit You make strong party,
or defend yourself By calmness or by absence
- all's in anger. - Only fair speech.
I think 'twill serve, if he Can thereto frame his spirit.
He must do it!
You will.
Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.
Must I with base tongue give my noble heart a lie that it must bear?
Well, I will do't
Away, my disposition, and possess me Some harlot's spirit!
a beggar's tongue make motion through my lips
I will not do't,
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
And by my body's action teach my mind a most inherent baseness.
At thy choice, then
To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour Than thou of them.
Come all to ruin;
let Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear Thy dangerous stoutness,
for I mock at death with as big heart as thou.
Do as you like.
Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me,
But owe thy pride thyself.
Pray, be content, Mother I am going,
Chide me no more. Look!
I am going!
I'll return consul.
Or never trust to what my tongue can do I' the way of flattery further.
Do your will.
In this point charge him home, that he affects Tyrannical power,
if he evade us there, Enforce him with his envy to the people,
Have you a catalogue Of all the voices that we have procured Set down by the poll?
I have; 'tis ready.
And the people hither me say 'It shall be so I' the right and strength o' the commons,
' be it either For death, for fine, or banishment,
then let them hear me say Fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death. '
I shall inform them.
May God preserve you!
The people are 'the city'.
I'm not been ready for each of common, Calmly, I do beseech you.
The honour'd...
The honour'd gods keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice supplied with worthy men!
plant love among's!
Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, And not our streets with war!
- Amen! - Amen!
A noble wish.
Shall I be charged no further than this present?
Must all determine here?
I do demand, If you submit you to the people's voices,
I am content.
Lo, citizens, he says he is content
The warlike service he has done.
Consider,think upon the wounds his body bears, which show Like graves i' the holy churchyard.
Scratches with briers, Scars to move laughter only.
Consider further, That when he speaks not like a citizen,
You find him like a soldier.
do not take His rougher accents for malicious sounds,
But, as I say, such as become a soldier.
What is the matter That being pass'd for consul with full voice,
I am so dishonour'd that the very hour You take it off again?
We charge you, that you have contrived to take From Rome all season'd office,
and to wind Yourself into a power tyrannical;
For which you are a traitor to the people.
traitor?
traitor!
- Nay, temperately; your promise. - The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people!
Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
Mark you this, people?
Yeah! Traitor!
he hath Served well for Rome.
What do you prate of service?
- I talk of that, that know it. - You!
Is this the promise that you made your mother?
I know no further, let them pronounce to the death, Exile, Flame,
I would not buy Their mercy at the price of one fair word!
in the name o' the people and in the power of us The tribunes we even from this instant,
banish him our city, I' the people's name i say,
It shall be so, it shall be so.
He's banish'd, and it shall be so.
It shall be so, it shall be so!
Hear me, my masters, and my common friends...
- He's sentenced; no more hearing. - Let me speak.
I have been consul, and can show for Rome Her enemies' marks upon me.
There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd,
As enemy to the people and his country.
It shall be so, it shall be so!
No!
You common cry of curs!
whose breath I hate as reek o' the rotten fens,
whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air.
I banish you.
And here remain with your uncertainty!
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair!
Have the power still To banish your defenders,
till at length your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
Making not reservation of yourselves,
Still your own foes, deliver you,
as most abated captives to some nation,
That won you without blows!
Despising,
For you,
The city.
Thus,
I turn my back.
There is a world,
Elsewhere.
The people's enemy is gone!
Nay, mother, Where is your ancient courage?
You are too absolute.
My mother, I shall be loved when I am lack'd.
I go alone.
Like to a lonely dragon.
- The gods preserve you both! - God-den to you all.
God-den to you all.
- Today the life and 'more' happy, more 'beautiful. - Yes.
- Good day. - Good day.
- Here comes his mother. - They say she's mad.
O, ye're well met.
The hoarded plague o' the gods Requite your love!
Will you be gone?
You shall stay too, I would I had the power To say so to my husband.
Are you mad?
Ay, fool; is that a shame? tell me what
Hadst thou craft To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
Than thou hast spoken words?
- O blessed heavens! - More noble blows than ever thou wise words
And for Rome's good.
Now go 'way.
Nay, but thou shalt stay too.
Tell you what,
I would my son Were in Arabia,
and thy tribe before him, His good sword in his hand.
- What then? - What then! He'Id make an end of thy posterity.
- Bastards and all. - Come, come, peace.
Well, well, let's go.
Why stay we to be baited With one that wants her wits?
I would the gods had nothing else to do,
But to confirm my curses!
Could I meet 'em But once a-day,
it would unclog my heart Of what lies heavy to't.
You have told them home; And, by my troth, you have cause.
You'll sup with me?
Anger's my meat.
I sup upon myself,
And so shall starve with feeding.
ANTIUM
Oh, Aufidius.
General!
Whence comest thou?
thy name?
Speak, man What's thy name?
A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine.
Say!
What's thy name?
Thou hast a grim appearance.
What's thy name?
- know'st thou me yet? - I know thee not.
- thy name? - My name
is Caius Marcius,
Who hath done To thee particularly,
and to all the Volsces Great hurt and mischief.
thereto witness may my surname
Coriolanus.
Only that name remains,
The cruelty and envy of the people,
Who have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest.
And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be Whoop'd out of Rome.
Now this extremity Hath brought me to thy hearth,
ot out of hope... Mistake me not... to save my life.
for if I had fear'd death,
of all the men i' the world I would have 'voided thee,
but in mere spite,
To be full quit of those my banishers, Stand I before thee here.
I will fight,
Against my canker'd country with the spleen Of all the under fiends.
But if so be Thou darest not this,
and present my throat to thee and to thy ancient malice.
Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
And cannot live but to thy shame,
Unless It be to do thee service.
O Marcius!
Marcius!
Each word thou hast spoke,
hath weeded from my heart a root of ancient envy.
Let me twine Mine arms,
about that body,
Know thou,
I loved the maid I married,
Never man Sigh'd truer breath.
but that I see thee here,
Thou noble thing!
More dances my rapt heart
Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold.
Why, thou Mars! I tell thee,
Thou hast beat me out Twelve several times,
and I have nightly since Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me
Worthy Marcius,
Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that Thou art thence banish'd,
We would muster all From twelve to seventy,
And pouring war Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold flood o'er-bear.
O, come, go in,
And take our friendly senators by the hands;
You bless me, gods!
Therefore,
Most absolute sir,
if thou wilt have The leading of thine own revenges,
take the one half of my commission;
and set down... As best thou art experienced,
since thou know'st Thy country's strength and weakness... thine own ways;
Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
Or rudely visit them in parts remote, To fright them, ere destroy.
Is this Menenius?
'Tis he,'tis he, O, he is grown most kind of late. Hail sir!
Hail to you both!
Your Coriolanus Is not much miss'd, but with his friends,
All's well;
and might have been much better, if He could have temporized.
- Where is he, hear you? - Nay, I hear nothing
His mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.
Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i' the war...
insolent, O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
- Self-loving... - I think not so.
and Rome Sits safe and still without him.
There are reports the Volsces with two several powers Are enter'd in the Roman territories,
And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before 'em.
'Tis Aufidius!
Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, Thrusts forth his horns into the world again;
Come what talk you Of Marcius?
It cannot be The Volsces dare break with us.
Cannot be!
We have record that very well it can,
The nobles in great earnestness are going All to the senate-house
some news is come That turns their countenances.
Yes, The slave's report is seconded; and more, More fearful, is deliver'd.
Marcius, Join'd with Aufidius
He leads a power 'gainst Rome, And vows revenge as
spacious as between The young'st and oldest thing.
A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius Associated with Aufidius,
rages upon our territories; and have already O'erborne their way,
consumed with fire, and took What lay before them.
Marcius, Join'd with The Volsce. He is their god.
He leads them like boys pursuing summer butterflies
Or butchers killing flies.
Do they still fly to the Roman?
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 darken'd in this action, sir,
He bears himself more proudlier, Even to my person,
than I thought he would When first I did embrace him
sir,
I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?
I think he'll be to Rome As is the osprey to the fish,
who takes it By sovereignty of nature.
Whether 'twas pride,
Whether defect of judgment
or whether nature, Not to be other than one thing,
...made him fear'd,
So hated, and so banish'd
So our virtues Lie in the interpretation of the time
One fire drives out one fire;
one nail, one nail;
Rights by rights falter,
strengths by strengths do fail.
When,
Caius,
Rome is thine,
Thou art poor'st of all;
then shortly...
art thou mine.
No, I'll not go
- Good Menenius... - Go, you that banish'd him!
A mile before his tent fall down,
and knee The way into his mercy
He would not seem to know me.
I urged our old acquaintance,
and the drops That we have bled together.
Coriolanus He would not answer to
forbad all names.
He was a...
kind of nothing,
titleless,
Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire Of burning Rome.
- if you refuse your aid... - if you would be your country's pleader,
your good tongue more than the instant army we can make, Might stop our countryman.
- No, I'll not meddle. - Pray you, go to him.
What should I do?
Only make trial what your love can do For Rome, towards Marcius.
Well, and say that Marcius Return me,
as Titus is return'd, Unheard; what then?
Yet your good will must have that thanks from Rome,
You know the very road into his kindness, And cannot lose your way.
I'll undertake't
I think he'll hear me.
He'll never hear him.
No?
I tell you, he does sit in gold,
His eye red as 'twould burn Rome;
The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity,
and love thee no worse than thy old friend Menenius does!
O Martius, Martius!
thou art preparing fire for us.
Look thee,
Here's water to quench it.
I was hardly moved to come to thee but being assured none but myself could move thee,
I have been blown out of your gates with sighs.
and conjure thee to pardon Rome,
Away!
HOW!
Away!?
Wife, mother, child, I know not.
My affairs are servanted to others
- sir... - Therefore, be gone.
Another word, Menenius, I will not hear thee speak.
This Marcius is grown from man to dragon.
He has wings;
He's more than a creeping thing.
There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger.
Coriolanus and Aufidius begin assault on Rome.
My lord and husband!
These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
The sorrow that delivers us thus changed Makes you think so.
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!
You gods! I prate,
And the most noble mother of the world Leave unsaluted.
Sink, my knee, i' the earth;
O, stand up blest!
Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, I kneel before thee
What is this? Your knees to me?
To your corrected son?
Thou art my warrior; I holp to frame thee.
This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by the interpretation of full time May show like all yourself.
The god of soldiers, inform thy thoughts with nobleness
that thou mayst prove To shame unvulnerable,
Your knee, sirrah. Even he,
your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you.
I beseech you, peace! Or, if you'Id ask, remember this:
Do not bid me dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate again with Rome's mechanics.
Tell me not Wherein I seem unnatural
Desire not to ally my rages and revenges with Your colder reasons.
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.
Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll Hear nought from Rome in private.
Your request?
Should we be silent and not speak,
our raiment and state of bodies would bewray what life We have led since thy exile.
Think!
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.
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 thorough 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 cannot 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... on thy mother's womb,
- That brought thee to this world. - Ay, and mine,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name Living to time.
A' shall not tread on me!
I'll run away till I am bigger,
but then I'll fight!
- I have sat too long. - 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
So the Volsces May say 'This mercy we have show'd
the Romans, 'This we received;'
and each in either side give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest for making up this peace!'
Speak to me, son
Why dost not speak?
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' the stocks.
Thou hast never in thy life Show'd thy dear mother
any courtesy, When she, poor hen, 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.
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
Down!
This is the last!
pray.
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 bands 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 a-fire, And then I'll speak a little.
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 mother!
Ah!
You have won
a happy victory to Rome.
But, for your son,... believe it,
O, believe it!
Most,
Dangerously you have prevail'd with him,
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?
I was moved withal.
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.
A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
we have all Great cause
to give great thanks.
Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!
How is it with our general?
As with a man by his own charity slain.
His stoutness will remain uncertain whilst 'Twixt you there's difference.
but the fall of either Makes the survivor heir of all.
I know it.
And my pretext to strike at him admits A good construction.
I raised him,
and I pawn'd Mine honour for his truth.
who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends.
at the last, I seem'd his follower, not partner,
and he waged me with his countenance, as if I had been mercenary.
So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it,
and, in the last, When he had carried Rome
and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory...
There was it.
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum,
which are As cheap as lies,
he sold the blood and labour Of our great action.
therefore shall he die
And I'll renew me in his fall.
'tseems he arrived!
I am return'd your soldier,
No more infected with my country's love Than when I parted hence,
but still subsisting Under your great command.
We have made peace With no less honour to the Volscians
Than shame to the Romans.
Tell the traitor, in the high'st degree He hath abused your powers.
Traitor? how now!
Ay, traitor, Marcius!
- Marcius? - Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius!
Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name Coriolanus?
Perfidiously He has betray'd your business,
and given up, For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
I say 'your city,'
to his wife and mother,
Breaking his oath and resolution like A twist of rotten silk,
never admitting Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears.
He whined and roar'd away your victory,
Hear'st thou, Mars?
Name not the god, thou boy of tears!
Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it.
Boy! O slave!
Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. Boy!
If you have writ your annals true,
'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote,
I flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:
Alone I did it. Boy!
Let him die for't.
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