It came to pass about the space of fifty years after the driving out of
the kings that there arose great talk in Rome by reason of those that
were in debt, their creditors dealing harshly with them. For the law was
that if a man was in debt and had not wherewithal to pay, his creditor
could cast him into prison and scourge him, dealing with him in all ways
as with a slave. And when many of the people were already in this case,
and many more feared lest they should be so hereafter, neither was there
any hope of relief, because the rich men would not, for the most part,
relax a right that was their due, they took counsel how they might best
deliver themselves from this bondage. Now it chanced in a certain year
that the army, having put to flight all their enemies, and being now
returned to Rome, was bidden by the Consuls to set forth yet again to
the battle, for the Consuls feared lest the men, being discharged
from their service, should seek to make some change in the State. This
bidding they were not willing to obey. First they doubted whether they
should not slay the Consuls, thinking thus to be free from their oath;
but, considering that a man cannot free himself from an oath by such
ill-doing, they followed rather the counsel of a certain Sicinius, who
bade them depart from Rome as though they would build them a city of
their own. So they departed, marching to a certain place that men call
the Sacred Hill, that is distant from the city about three miles, and is
on the other side of the river Anio. There they made a camp with trench
and rampart, and abode in this place many days, doing nothing either for
good or evil. But when the nobles saw what had been done, they were in
great fear what this thing might mean, but doubted not that Rome must
be brought to destruction, unless the rich and the poor should be
reconciled the one to the other. Therefore they sent a certain Menenius
Agrippa, an eloquent man and dear to the Commons, as belonging to them
by birth, who should be their spokesman. So Agrippa, coming to the camp
and being admitted thereunto, spoke to the Commons this parable only;
for in those days men were not wont to make set speeches. "In old times
the members of man lived not together in such harmony as we now see to
be among them; but each member had his own counsel and his own speech.
All the other members therefore had great wrath against the belly,
because that all things were gained for it by their care and labour
and service, while it, remaining at rest in the midst of them all, did
nought but enjoy the pleasures provided for it Wherefore they conspired
that the hands should not carry food to the mouth, that the mouth should
not take that which was offered to it, nor the teeth chew it. So it came
to pass that while they would have subdued the belly by hunger, they
themselves and the whole body were brought to great extremity of
weakness. Then did it become manifest that the belly was not idle,
but had also an office and service of its own, feeding others, even as
itself was fed, seeing that it changed the food into that blood from
which we have life and vigour, and so sent it back into all parts of the
body. Consider then, and see how this wrath of the Commons against the
nobles is as the wrath of the members against the belly." With these
words he wrought upon the minds of the people so that they were willing
to be reconciled, certain conditions being granted, whereof the chief
was this, that the Commons should have officers of their own, tribunes
by name, whom no man might harm under pain of death, and who should
help the Commons, if need should arise, against the Consuls. Also it was
provided that no noble should hold this office forever. Now it fell out
not many days after these things that there arose a great famine in this
land, so that the slaves and not a few of the Commons also had perished,
but that the Consuls diligently gathered wheat from all places where it
could be bought. And it came to pass that there was brought much wheat
from the island of Sicily, and the Senators debated among themselves on
what terms it should be given to the people. Now there were some among
the nobles that took it very ill that the Commons should have officers
of their own, by whose help they might stand against the Consuls, and
the counsel of these was to use the occasion of this famine against
them. The chiefest of these was a certain Marcius, that was surnamed
Coriolanus.
How Marcius had won for himself this surname must now be told. The army
of the Romans besieged Corioli, that was a town of the Volsci; and while
they were busy with the siege, and thought only of the townsfolk that
were shut in the town, there came upon them of a sudden an army of the
Volscians from Antium, and at the same time the townsfolk sallied forth
from the city. Now Marcius chanced to be on guard, and he, having a
chosen band of soldiers with him, not only drave back them that had
sallied forth, but entered into the city by the gate that was opened to
receive them, slew them that were near, and set fire to such houses as
were near to the walls. And when the townsfolk set up a shout, and the
women and children cried out as is their wont in such alarm, the courage
of the Romans was greatly increased, and the Volscians were troubled,
thinking that the city to whose help they had come was already taken.
Thus did Corioli come into possession of the Romans, and men gave to
Marcius thereafter the surname of Coriolanus.
This Coriolanus therefore, being ill content that the Commons should
have tribunes, spake in the Senate in this manner: "If the people will
have such cheapness in corn as they had in old time, let them render
back to the Fathers such rights as they also in old times possessed. Why
should I see officers chosen from the multitude, and such a fellow as is
this Sicinius bearing rule? Should I endure such disgrace longer than I
needs must? If I would not endure King Tarquin, should I now endure King
Sicinius? Let him call the Commons, if he will, to the Sacred Hill. The
way thither--aye, and to other hills besides--is open if he would go.
They have made this dearth for themselves, suffering their lands to be
untilled; let them therefore enjoy what they have made."
This counsel seemed over harsh to the Senate; as for the Commons, it
wrought them to madness. "See now," they cried, "how they would subdue
us by hunger, even as though we were enemies! See how they would cheat
us even of food! Lo! there is come this wheat from the stranger, which
fortune has given us beyond all our hopes, and they would snatch it even
from our mouths, unless, forsooth, we hand over our tribunes bound hand
and foot to this Marcius, when they may work their will on the Commons
of Rome with their scourges. What a savage is this that has risen up in
our State, bidding us chose whether we will have slavery or death!" And
as Coriolanus went forth from the senate-house they would have taken his
life, but that the tribune named a day when he should stand his trial
before the people. When they heard this their wrath abated, knowing that
they had the power of life and death over their enemy.
Now at the first Coriolanus made light of the matter. "Who are these
tribunes," he would say, "that they venture on such matters? Succour
they may give to them that need it, but whence have they the power to
punish? And are they not tribunes of the Commons and not of the nobles?"
Notwithstanding, when the wrath of the people increased beyond all
measure, the Fathers perceived that they must let one man suffer for
all. For a while, indeed, they held their place, using all their power
if haply they might prevail. First, they would set their followers about
the city, who might prevent the Commons from holding assemblies, and so
bring the matter to nought. After they came forth all of them, so that
a man might have thought that all the Fathers were on their trial, using
prayers and supplications for Coriolanus. "If ye will not acquit him of
the charge, count him guilty indeed, but spare him for favour towards
us."
When the day of trial was come, Coriolanus appeared not to answer, and
the wrath of the people was still fierce against him. Being condemned,
he was banished, and was to pass his exile among the Volscians, having
even now in his heart the spirit of an enemy against Rome.
The Volscians, indeed, bade him welcome right heartily; and their
goodwill towards him increased when they perceived what wrath he bore
against his native country. His host was a certain Attius Tullus, than
whom there was none among the Volscians either more powerful or more
hostile to Rome. So the two held counsel together how they might stir
up war. They knew, indeed, that the people could not easily be moved to
that which they had tried so often with ill success. For their spirits
were broken not only with many defeats which they had suffered in time
past from the men of Rome, but also from pestilence, which had of late
sorely troubled them. Nevertheless Attius had good hopes that he
might yet kindle their anger against the Romans; and this indeed he
accomplished, as shall now be told.
It chanced that in that year the great games at Rome were celebrated a
second time; and the reason why they were celebrated a second time
was this. On the day of the first celebration, early in the morning,
a certain householder drave one of his slaves through the marketplace,
beating him with rods. Afterwards the games began, and no man thought
that aught was amiss. But no long time after a certain Atinius, a man of
the people, dreamed a dream. He saw Jupiter, who spake to him saying,
"I liked not him that danced the first dance at my Games. Unless they be
celebrated again, and that right splendidly, there will be danger to the
city. And do thou go and tell this to the Consuls." Now the man was not
careless of the Gods, nevertheless because he stood in great fear of the
Consuls he went not, lest he should be laughed to scorn for idle words.
But this delay cost him dearly, for within a few days his son died.
And that he might not doubt what this great trouble might mean, the god
appeared to him yet again in a dream. "Hast thou had wages enough for
thy neglect of that which I commanded? Verily, thou shalt receive
yet more if thou tell not the matter straightway to the Consuls."
Nevertheless, though the matter was now more urgent, yet the man
delayed, and there fell upon him suddenly a great sickness and weakness.
Thereupon he called his kinsfolk together to counsel, and told them
all that he had seen and heard, how Jupiter had appeared to him in his
dream, and had threatened him with punishment, and what had thereupon
ensued When they heard these things, all with one consent agreed that
the man should be carried straightway in a litter to the market-place
into the presence of the Consuls. The Consuls commanded that he should
be taken into the senate-house, where, being set down, he related all
that had been told, to the great wonder of the Fathers. And when he
had finished speaking, lo! there followed another marvel. His sickness
departed from him in a moment, so that he that had been brought into the
senate-house without power to move any limb, now, having fulfilled the
command of the god, returned upon his feet to his own home.
The Senate, therefore, decreed that the Great Games should be celebrated
a second time with great pomp. To this festival there came, at the
bidding of Attius, a great company of the Volscians. But before the
beginning of the games Attius, having agreed with Coriolanus what should
be done, sought audience of the Consuls, saying that he would speak
with them of a matter of great moment to the State. To them, none others
being present, he said, "I like not to speak ill of my own countrymen.
Yet seeing that I have not to accuse them of aught that they have done
amiss, but rather to take care that they do it not, I will even speak my
mind. The Volscians are of too light and fickle temper. From this cause
we have already in time past suffered many things, so that in truth it
is of your long-suffering rather than of our well-deserving that we are
alive this day. Even now there is a great company of my people in this
city; ye, men of Rome, will be wholly occupied with these games. Now
I remember what on the like occasion was done in this place by certain
young men of the Sabines, and I am in some fear lest the Volscians
also should venture on a like misdeed. Of this, therefore, I give you
warning, not for your sakes only, but also for ours. As for myself, it
is my purpose to return straightway to my own home, lest something of
the guilt of my countrymen should fall also upon me."
So Attius departed. And when the Consuls had brought the matter before
the Senate, the Fathers, judging that they must take heed to that which
had been told on such authority, commanded that all the Volscians should
depart forthwith from the city. Thereupon criers were sent into all
parts making proclamation, "Let every Volscian depart hence before
nightfall." At the first, on the hearing of these words, as they
hastened each man to his lodgings, to take up such things as belonged
to him, there was great fear; and afterwards, when they were now setting
out on their journey, not the less anger. "What is this," said they,
"that we are driven forth from the presence of gods and men on a day of
festival as if we were polluted with crime?" Now Attius had gone before
them to the Fountain of Ferentina; and as each of the chief men of the
State came thither he spake with him about this matter, making loud
complaints and much display of wrath. And the chiefs gathered the people
together to an assembly in the plain ground that is beneath the road.
To whom Tullus spake, saying, "Though ye forget, ye Volscians, all the
wrong that the Romans have done to us in old times and all that we have
suffered at their hands, how will ye bear the scorn that hath been put
upon you this day, when they have begun their games by making sport of
us? Do ye not perceive that when ye departed in this fashion ye were
made a spectacle to citizens and strangers and all the nations round
about? What thought they that heard the voice of the crier? or they that
saw you depart? or they that met you as ye came hither in such unseemly
plight? What but this, that ye had done some great wickedness, wherefore
ye must be driven away from the gathering of gods and men lest your
presence should be a defilement? Is not this a city of enemies, wherein
if ye had tarried but one single day ye would all have suffered death?
They have declared war against you, and if ye are men they will suffer
no small loss therefrom."
Thus it was brought to pass that all the Volscians joined together
to make war against Rome. First they chose for leaders Attius and
Coriolanus, in whom indeed they trusted the more of the two. And indeed
they trusted rightly, as was proved in the end, so that it became
manifest that Rome had prevailed rather through the skilfulness of
leaders than the courage of armies. First Coriolanus came to Circeii,
that is hard by the sea, and drave out thence the Roman colonists, and
gave over the city to the Romans. After this he took many cities of the
Latins, and at the last pitched his camp five miles from Rome, sending
out thence those who might spoil the lands of the Romans. Only he gave
commandment that they should not spoil the lands of the nobles. And this
he did, either because he hated the Commons more than the nobles, or
that he would sow dissension between the two. This, indeed, he did
not, for a common fear bound them together. Yet there was so much of
disagreement that the nobles would have had recourse to war to rid them
of the enemy, but the Commons were urgent that they should rather
seek for conditions of peace. And this opinion prevailed. Ambassadors
therefore were sent to Coriolanus, to whom he gave this answer only:
"When ye shall have given back all their lands to the Volscians, then
may ye talk of peace. But if ye seek to enjoy in peace that which ye
took for yourselves by war, ye shall see that I forget neither what
wrong I suffered from my own people, nor what kindness I have received
from my hosts." And when the ambassadors were sent a second time he
would not suffer them to enter the camp. After them came the priests,
bearing the emblems of their office; nor did these prevail more than
the ambassadors. Then a great company of the women came to Veturia, the
mother of Coriolanus, and to Volumnia, that was his wife. But whether
they did this by consent of the rulers, or by prompting of their own
fear, cannot be affirmed for certain. These women then prevailed with
Veturia, though she was now well stricken in years, and with Volumnia,
that they should go to the camp to Coriolanus; and Volumnia carried with
her the two sons that she had borne to Coriolanus. These having come,
it was told the man that a great company of women was arrived. At the
first, indeed, he was not minded to yield to their tears that which
he had steadfastly refused to the ambassadors. But afterwards, when
a certain one of his friends, seeing Veturia stand together with her
daughter-inlaw and grandsons, said, "Unless my eyes deceive me, thy
mother and wife and children are here." Coriolanus, being greatly
troubled, leapt from his seat and would have embraced his mother. But
she, turning from supplication to anger, cried, "I would fain know,
before I receive thy embrace, whether I see a son or an enemy before me,
whether I am thy mother or a prisoner. Has long life been given me for
this, that I should see thee first an exile and afterwards an enemy?
Couldst thou bear to lay waste this land which gave thee birth and
nurture? Didst thou not think to thyself, seeing Rome, 'Within those
walls are my home, my mother, my wife, my children'? As for me I cannot
suffer more than I have already endured; nor doth there yet remain to me
a long space of life or of misery. But consider these thy children. If
thou art steadfast to work thy will, they must either die before their
time or grow old in bondage."
[Illustration: Coriolanus before his mother 162]
When she had ended these words, his wife and his children embraced him;
and at the same time the whole company of women set up a great wailing.
Thus was the purpose of Coriolanus against his country changed, and,
breaking up his camp, he led his army away. Some say that the Volscians
slew him for wrath that he let slip this occasion against Rome; but
others relate that he lived to old age, being wont to say, "There is no
man so unhappy as he that is old and also an exile."