[exhales]
[continues sharpening blade]
[indistinct shouting on TV]
[inaudible]
[overlapping chatter]
[baby screaming in the distance]
[siren wailing nearby]
[inaudible dialogue]
[angry shouting]
[indistinct chatter]
Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
[all] Resolved.
First, you know Caius Martius is chief enemy to the people.
- [all murmur] We know it. - 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 suffering, is a gain to them.
Aye...
Let us revenge this with our sticks, ere we become rakes.
No more talking on it. Come!
Soft, soft, who comes here?
...friends, mine honest neighbors...
Worthy Senator Menenius, one that has 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 heavens with your staves
as lift them against the Roman state.
Suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain.
Bread!
- [man] Bread! - [all murmur] Bread.
[all] Bread!
[crowd chanting] Bread, bread, bread...!
[clamoring]
Bread, bread, bread...
- [horn honking] - [people screaming]
[grunting]
Stop!
- Stop! Stop! - [shouting ceases]
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 your 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 you home...
...you fragments.
[batons rhythmically pounding shields]
- [man] Go back! - [man 2] Forward!
[shouts]
- [rhythmic pounding continuing over TV] - [man] Go back!
[clamoring over TV]
[inaudible]
- Please... - Know you me yet?
I know you well.
Your name, I think, is Aufidius.
It is so.
- I'm a Roman. - What's the news in Rome?
What's the news in Rome?
There hath been in Rome strange insurrections.
- The people against the senators. - Hath been? Is it ended then?
The main blaze of it is past,
but a small thing would make it flame again.
[Aufidius on TV] You have ended my business.
The news is the Volsces are in arms.
They have a leader, Tullus Aufidius, that'll put you to it.
I sin in envying his nobility.
And were I anything 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. - [Aufidius] Is it not yours?
'Tis not four days gone since I heard thence.
By the discovery, we shall be shortened in our aim.
And it is rumored Martius, your old enemy, leads on this preparation.
If we and Caius Martius chance to meet, 'tis sworn between us
we shall ever strike till one can do no more.
If ever again I meet him beard to beard,
he's mine or I am his.
[bombs whistling]
[rapid gunfire]
[rapid gunfire continues]
[grunts]
[man] Mark me!
[screams]
[Martius] They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts.
He that retires, I'll take him for a Volsce and he shall feel mine edge!
Go!
[grunts]
[bullets ricochet]
Come on.
Away!
[rapid gunfire]
[grunting]
[gunshot]
[can clanking on ground]
[TV plays indistinctly]
[man] The citizens of Corioles have issued
and given to Titus and to Martius battle.
We've heard their drums. I saw our forces to their trenches
- driven, and then I came away... - [TV clicks off]
I pray you, daughter, sing,
or express yourself in a more comfortable sort.
If my son were my husband,
I would more freely rejoice in that absence
wherein he won honor 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 honor 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 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.
I see him stamp thus,
cry 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 it. 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 then wiping, forth he goes.
His bloody brow? O Jupiter, no blood.
Away, you fool.
It more becomes a man than gold his trophy.
Senator Menenius is come to visit you.
Tell him we are fit to bid him welcome.
Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.
- Indeed, you shall not. - My ladies both, good day to you.
How do you both? And how does your little son?
I thank you, sir. Well, good.
He'd rather play with swords and hear a drum
- than look upon his schoolmaster. - On my word, the father's son.
[both chuckling]
Come, I must have you play the idle housewife with me this afternoon.
No, good sir, I will not out of doors.
- 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 hither. - O you would be another Penelope.
Yet they say, all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence
did but fill Ithaca full of moths.
[chuckling]
No, good sir. Pardon me. Indeed, I will not forth.
Go with me, and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.
No, good sir, there can be none yet.
- There came news from him last night. - [woman] Indeed?
Your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before the Volscian city of Carioles.
They nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars.
This is true, on mine honor. So, I pray, go out with us.
Give me excuse, good sir. I will obey you in everything hereafter.
Let her alone. As she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.
[rapid gunfire]
- [panting] - [rapid gunfire]
[panting]
[grunts]
[breathes heavily]
[panting]
[yelling]
[gun fires]
[gun clicking]
[both grunting]
[yells]
- [Titus] What is become of Martius? - Slain, sir, doubtless.
He is himself alone, to answer all the city.
[whispers] Thou art lost, Martius.
[rapid gunfire in distance]
Who's yonder, that does appear as he were flayed?
O gods! He has the stamp of Martius.
Come I too late?!
Aye, if you come not in the blood of others, but mantled in your own.
Let me hold you in arms as sound as when I wooed,
in heart as merry as when our nuptial day was done.
[explosion]
There is the man of my soul's hate. Aufidius, piercing our Romans.
Worthy sir, thou bleeds.
Thy exercise has been too violent for a second course of fight.
Sir, praise me not. My work hath not yet warmed me.
The blood I drop is more medicinal 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 smeared,
if any fear lesser his person than an ill report,
if any think brave death outweighs bad life,
and that his country is dearer than himself,
let him alone, or so many so minded
wave thus, to express his disposition, and follow Martius!
O... me alone.
Make you a sword of me!
[all yelling]
[rapid gunfire]
Oi!
[Martius] Advance, brave Titus!
[grunts]
[rapid gunfire continues]
Away!
Come! Come!
I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee.
We hate alike.
[both grunting]
[grunts]
[grunts, yells]
[both yelling]
[yelling]
[groaning]
[explosion]
[bomb whistling]
[explosion]
[debris clattering]
[wind whistling]
[panting]
Five times, Martius, I have fought with thee.
So often has thou beat me, and would do so, I fear,
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.
[Aufidius] 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
against my hate to Martius.
Where I find him, were it at home,
upon my brother's guard,
even there, will I wash my fierce hand in his heart.
[woman] Honorable Menenius!
My boy, Martius, 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 it.
O, 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 said they fought together, but Aufidius got off.
In truth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.
Gods grant them true.
- True. - I'll be sworn they're true.
Where is he wounded?
In the shoulder and in the left arm.
There will be large scars to show the people
when he shall stand for his place.
He had, before this last expedition,
- 25 wounds upon him. - Now it's 27.
Every gash was an enemy's grave.
[quietly] Before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears.
Death, that dark spirit, in his nervy arm doth lie.
Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.
[cameras clicking]
[man] Be it known, as to us, to all the world,
that Caius Martius wears this war's garland.
And, from this time, for what he did before Corioles,
call him, with all the applause and clamor of the host:
"Caius Martius Coriolanus." Bear the addition nobly ever.
[all] Caius Martius Coriolanus!
[applause]
No more of this. It does offend my heart. Pray now, no more.
Look, sir, your mother.
O, you have, I know, petitioned all the gods for my prosperity.
Nay, my good soldier, up.
Ah, my gentle Martius, worthy Caius,
and by deed-achieving honor newly named... What is it?
"Coriolanus" must I call thee?
But, O, thy wife...
My gracious silence, hail.
Wouldst thou have laughed had I come coffined home,
that weeps to see me triumph?
Aye, my dear, such eyes the widows in Corioles wear,
and mothers that lack sons.
- [Menenius] Now, the gods crown thee! - And live you yet?
I could weep and I could laugh. I'm light and heavy.
- [laughter] - I know not where to turn.
O, you are welcome home. You are welcome all.
- A hundred thousand welcomes! - Welcome all!
- [applause] - Welcome, Coriolanus!
Welcome!
[man] 'Tis thought that Martius shall be consul.
I have seen the dumb men throng to see him,
and the blind to hear him speak.
Matrons flung gloves, ladies and maids their scarves
and handkerchiefs upon him as he passed.
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.
[man] Was ever a man so proud as is this Martius?
[man 2] He has no equal.
When we were chosen tribunes for the people...
- Marked you his lip and eyes? - Nay, but his taunts.
The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight.
Good or bad?
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Martius.
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
You blame Martius 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 towards 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 politicians, 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 water in it.
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 anything.
- You're ambitious. - [chuckles]
[sighs]
Good e'en to your worships.
More of your conversation would infect my brain.
- How many stand for the consulship? - Three, they say,
but 'tis thought of everyone Coriolanus will carry it.
That's a brave fellow, but he is vengeance proud
and loves not the common people.
There have been many great men that have flattered the people
who never 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 it.
But he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can render at him.
Now to seem to desire 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 would be content to give him good report for it,
but that he pays himself with being proud.
Nay, but speak not maliciously. He hath deserve worthily of his country.
[clattering]
[paper tearing]
[Martius grunts softly]
[sighs]
The good senators must be visited,
from whom I have received not only greetings,
but with them change of honors.
I have lived to see inherited my very wishes
and the buildings of my fancy.
Only there's one thing wanting,
which I doubt not but our Rome will cast upon thee.
Good mother, I'd rather be their servant in my way,
than sway with them in theirs.
[door opens]
Coriolanus will carry it.
He's a worthy man. He will carry it.
[bell rings]
- All tongues speak of him. - On the sudden, I warrant him consul.
Then our office may, during his power, go asleep.
He cannot temperately transport his honors
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 in the marketplace,
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, a sure destruction.
So it must fall out to him, or our authorities, for an end.
We must suggest to the people
in what hatred he still hath held them.
Kindle their dry stubble,
and their blaze shall darken him forever.
[low, indistinct chatter]
[Menenius] It remains, 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 grave and reverend elders,
to desire the present consul, and last general in our well-found successes,
to report a little of that worthy work performed by Caius Martius Coriolanus.
- [man] Speak, good Cominius. - [men] Aye.
- Nay, keep your place. - Sit, Coriolanus.
Never shame to hear what you have nobly done.
Your honor's pardon. I'd rather have my wounds to heal again
- than hear say how I got them. - Pray you, sit down.
I'd rather have one scratch my head in the sun
when the alarm were struck
than idly sit to hear my nothings monstered.
[murmuring]
- [man] Speak, good Cominius. - [man 2] Aye, proceed.
The deeds of Coriolanus should not be uttered feebly.
It is held that valor is the chiefest virtue,
and most dignifies the haver.
If it be, the man I speak of
cannot in the world be singly counterpoised.
[voice receding] At 16 years, he fought beyond the mark of others.
When he might act the woman in the scene,
he proved best man in the field.
[voice echoing] And in the brunt of 17 battles since,
he lurched all swords of the garland.
For this last, before and in Corioles,
let me say I cannot speak him home.
He stopped the fliers, and by his rare example,
made coward turn terror into sport, from face to foot.
He was a thing of blood, whose every motion was timed with dying cries.
[voice echoing] Alone, he entered the mortal gate of the city,
which he painted with shunless destiny.
- [low rumbling] - Aidless came off,
and with a sudden re-enforcement
struck Corioles like a planet.
[voice receding] Until we called both field and city ours,
he never stood to ease his breast with panting.
Our spoils he kicked at, and looked 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.
[applause]
[indistinct salutations]
The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased to make thee consul.
[scattered murmurs] Aye.
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 overleap 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 a part 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.
To our noble consul wish we all joy and honor!
[applause]
- [laughter] - [applause continues over TV]
[Menenius] The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased to make thee consul!
[Martius] I do owe them still my life and services.
[Menenius] It then remains that you do speak to the people.
[Martius] Let me overleap that custom.
[man] The people must have their voices.
Have you not known the worthiest men have done it?
Custom calls me to it.
What custom wills, in all things should we do it.
What must I say?
"Look, sir, my wounds. I got them in my country's service."
O me, the gods! You must not speak like that.
You must desire them to think upon you.
Think upon me?
Hang 'em. I would they would forget me.
[siren chirping]
Pray you, speak to them.
I pray you, in wholesome manner.
Bid them wash their faces and keep their teeth clean.
[helicopter passing overhead]
You know the cause, sir, of my standing here?
We do, sir. Tell us what hath brought you to it.
- Mine own desert. - [woman] Your own desert?
- Aye, but not mine own desire. - How not your own desire?
No, it was never my desire yet to trouble the poor with begging.
You must think, if we give you anything, we hope to gain by you.
Well then, I pray, your price of the consulship?
The price is to ask it kindly.
Kindly, sir, I pray, let me have it.
I have wounds to show you, which shall be yours in private.
Your good voice, sir. What say you?
- You shall have it, worthy sir. - A match, sir.
There's in all two worthy voices begged. Adieu.
But this is something odd.
[Martius] Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your voice
that I may be consul.
You've deserved nobly of your country, and you've not deserved nobly.
[chuckles]
Your enigma?
You've been a scourge to her enemies, you've been a rod to her friends.
You've not indeed loved the common people.
You should account me the more virtuous that I have not been common in my love.
We hope to find you our friend,
and therefore give you our voices heartily.
I'll make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further.
Gods give you joy, sir, heartily.
Your voices!
For your voices I have fought.
Watched for your voices.
For 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!
- [man] Aye. - [man 2] Aye.
Therefore, let him be consul!
- Amen! - Amen!
[others join in] Amen!
Amen!
[chanting]
- Amen! - [chanting continues]
- Worthy voices! - [chanting continues]
Worthy voices, worthy voices.
[chanting, cheering]
[Menenius] You have stood your limitation.
And the tribunes now endow you with the people's voice.
Is this done?
The custom of request you have discharged.
The people do admit you,
and are summoned to meet anon upon your approbation.
- Where? At the senate? - There, Coriolanus.
- May I change these garments? - You may, sir.
I'll keep you company. Will you along?
We stay here for the people.
[man] God save thee, noble consul!
[crowd chanting] Consul! Consul! Consul! Consul! Consul! Consul!
How now, my masters!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Whoa, my masters! My masters! My masters, how now!
- Have you chose this man? - [multiple voices] Aye!
He has our voices, sir.
We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.
[woman] Amen, sir.
To my poor, unworthy notice, he mocked us when he begged our voices.
- He mocked us! - Flouted us downright.
O, no, no, no, it is his kind of speech.
- [scattered voices] Aye. - He did not mock us.
He should have showed us his marks of merit,
- wounds received for his country. - [several shouting] Yes!
- Why, I'm sure, so he did. - No, he didn't!
No, no, no! No! No! No one saw them!
Was this mockery?
[scattered voices] Yes!
When he had no power, but was a petty servant to the state, he was your enemy.
- [scattered assent] - 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?
[scattered voices] Aye!
It is not confirmed.
It is not confirmed! We may deny him yet!
- [murmuring] - And will deny him!
I'll have 500 voices of that sound.
- [multiple voices] Yes! - I twice 500 and their friends!
[crowd] 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 the number, repair to the senate.
[low, indistinct chatter]
Tullus Aufidius then has assembled a new army?
He has, my lord.
- Saw you Aufidius? - He's 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.
Come, Rome must know the value of her own.
[low, indistinct chatter]
Behold, these are the tribunes of the people,
the tongues of the common mouth.
- Pass no further. - Ah? What is that?
It will be dangerous to go on. No further.
- What makes this change? - The matter?
Hath he not passed the nobles and the commons?
- Cominius, no. - Have I had children's voices?
- Tribunes, give away. - The people are incensed against him.
- Are these your herd? - [Menenius] Be calm, be calm.
The people cry you mocked them, and of late called 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'll speak it again.
- Not now, not now. - [Cominius] Not in this heat, sir.
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 against our senate
the cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
which we ourselves have ploughed for, sowed, and scattered
by mingling them with us,
the honored number who lack not virtue, no, nor power,
but that which we have given to beggars!
- Well, no more! - No more words, we beseech you.
You speak of the people as if you were a god to punish,
not a man of their infirmity.
It were well we let the people know it.
Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, by Jove, it would 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 should 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 open the locks of the senate,
and bring in the crows to peck the eagles!
- Come, enough! - Enough, with over-measure.
He has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer as traitors do!
Thou wretch, despite overwhelm thee!
- Manifest treason! - This is a consul? No!
Seize him!
Hence, old goat!
[crowd shouting]
On both sides more respect!
- [crowd booing] - [yelling]
Shh! Shh!
Here's he that would take from you all your power!
You are at point to lose your liberties!
Martius would have all from you,
Martius, whom late you have named for consul.
[angry shouting]
- What is the city but the people?! - [woman] True!
The people are the city! The people are the city!
[clamoring]
We do here pronounce, upon the part of the people,
Martius is worthy of present death!
[clamoring]
Death!
- Guards, seize him! - No, I'll die here!
[clamoring continuing]
Get you to your house! Be gone, away!
- All will be naught else! - Come, sir, along with us!
[clamoring continues]
[sirens wailing nearby]
[clears throat]
[sighs]
As I do know the consul's worthiness, so can I name his faults.
Consul? What consul?
- The Consul Coriolanus. - [scoffs] He, consul?
It is decreed he dies tonight.
He's a disease that must be cut away.
O, he's a limb that hath but a disease.
Mortal, to cut it off, to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome that's worth his death, eh?
Killing our enemies?
[sighs]
The blood he hath lost, he dropped it for his country.
- This is clean kam. - We'll hear no more...
Consider this:
He's been bred in the wars since he could draw a sword,
and is ill-schooled in graceful 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.
In you bring not Martius, we'll proceed in our first way.
I'll bring him to you.
Let them pull all about mine ears,
present me death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels,
- yet will I still be thus to them! - Martius...
I muse my mother does not approve me further.
I talk of you. Why would you wish me milder?
Would you have me false to my nature?
Rather say I play the man I am.