How could'st thou in a mile confound an houre,
And bring thy Newes so late?
Mes. Spies of the Volces
Held me in chace, that I was forc'd to wheele
Three or foure miles about, else had I sir
Halfe an houre since brought my report.
Enter Martius.
Com. Whose yonder,
That doe's appeare as he were Flead? O Gods,
He has the stampe of Martius, and I haue
Before time seene him thus
Mar. Come I too late?
Com. The Shepherd knowes not Thunder fro[m] a Taber,
More then I know the sound of Martius Tongue
From euery meaner man
Martius. Come I too late?
Com. I, if you come not in the blood of others,
But mantled in your owne
Mart. Oh! let me clip ye
In Armes as sound, as when I woo'd in heart;
As merry, as when our Nuptiall day was done,
And Tapers burnt to Bedward
Com. Flower of Warriors, how is't with Titus Lartius?
Mar. As with a man busied about Decrees:
Condemning some to death, and some to exile,
Ransoming him, or pittying, threatning th' other;
Holding Corioles in the name of Rome,
Euen like a fawning Grey-hound in the Leash,
To let him slip at will
Com. Where is that Slaue
Which told me they had beate you to your Trenches?
Where is he? Call him hither
Mar. Let him alone,
He did informe the truth: but for our Gentlemen,
The common file, (a plague-Tribunes for them)
The Mouse ne're shunn'd the Cat, as they did budge
From Rascals worse then they
Com. But how preuail'd you?
Mar. Will the time serue to tell, I do not thinke:
Where is the enemy? Are you Lords a'th Field?
If not, why cease you till you are so?
Com. Martius, we haue at disaduantage fought,
And did retyre to win our purpose
Mar. How lies their Battell? Know you on w side
They haue plac'd their men of trust?
Com. As I guesse Martius,
Their Bands i'th Vaward are the Antients
Of their best trust: O're them Auffidious,
Their very heart of Hope
Mar. I do beseech you,
By all the Battailes wherein we haue fought,
By th' Blood we haue shed together,
By th' Vowes we haue made
To endure Friends, that you directly set me
Against Affidious, and his Antiats,
And that you not delay the present (but
Filling the aire with Swords aduanc'd) and Darts,
We proue this very houre
Com. Though I could wish,
You were conducted to a gentle Bath,
And Balmes applyed to you, yet dare I neuer
Deny your asking, take your choice of those
That best can ayde your action
Mar. Those are they
That most are willing; if any such be heere,
(As it were sinne to doubt) that loue this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd, if any feare
Lessen his person, then an ill report:
If any thinke, braue death out-weighes bad life,
And that his Countries deerer then himselfe,
Let him alone: Or so many so minded,
Waue thus to expresse his disposition,
And follow Martius.
They all shout and waue their swords, take him vp in their Armes,
and cast
vp their Caps.
Oh me alone, make you a sword of me:
If these shewes be not outward, which of you
But is foure Volces? None of you, but is
Able to beare against the great Auffidious
A Shield, as hard as his. A certaine number
(Though thankes to all) must I select from all:
The rest shall beare the businesse in some other fight
(As cause will be obey'd:) please you to March,
And foure shall quickly draw out my Command,
Which men are best inclin'd
Com. March on my Fellowes:
Make good this ostentation, and you shall
Diuide in all, with vs.
Exeunt.
Titus Lartius, hauing set a guard vpon Carioles, going with Drum
and
Trumpet toward Cominius, and Caius Martius, Enters with a
Lieutenant,
other Souldiours, and a Scout.
Lar. So, let the Ports be guarded; keepe your Duties
As I haue set them downe. If I do send, dispatch
Those Centuries to our ayd, the rest will serue
For a short holding, if we loose the Field,
We cannot keepe the Towne
Lieu. Feare not our care Sir
Lart. Hence; and shut your gates vpon's:
Our Guider come, to th' Roman Campe conduct vs.
Exit
Alarum, as in Battaile.
Enter Martius and Auffidius at seueral doores.
Mar. Ile fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee
Worse then a Promise-breaker
Auffid. We hate alike:
Not Affricke ownes a Serpent I abhorre
More then thy Fame and Enuy: Fix thy foot
Mar. Let the first Budger dye the others Slaue,
And the Gods doome him after
Auf. If I flye Martius, hollow me like a Hare
Mar. Within these three houres Tullus
Alone I fought in your Corioles walles,
And made what worke I pleas'd: 'Tis not my blood,
Wherein thou seest me maskt, for thy Reuenge
Wrench vp thy power to th' highest
Auf. Wer't thou the Hector,
That was the whip of your bragg'd Progeny,
Thou should'st not scape me heere.
Heere they fight, and certaine Volces come in the ayde of Auffi.
Martius
fights til they be driuen in breathles.
Officious and not valiant, you haue sham'd me
In your condemned Seconds.
Flourish. Alarum. A Retreat is sounded. Enter at one Doore
Cominius, with
the Romanes: At another Doore Martius, with his Arme in a
Scarfe.
Com. If I should tell thee o're this thy dayes Worke,
Thou't not beleeue thy deeds: but Ile report it,
Where Senators shall mingle teares with smiles,
Where great Patricians shall attend, and shrug,
I'th' end admire: where Ladies shall be frighted,
And gladly quak'd, heare more: where the dull Tribunes,
That with the fustie Plebeans, hate thine Honors,
Shall say against their hearts, We thanke the Gods
Our Rome hath such a Souldier.
Yet cam'st thou to a Morsell of this Feast,
Hauing fully din'd before.
Enter Titus with his Power, from the Pursuit.
Titus Lartius. Oh Generall:
Here is the Steed, wee the Caparison:
Hadst thou beheld-
Martius. Pray now, no more:
My Mother, who ha's a Charter to extoll her Bloud,
When she do's prayse me, grieues me:
I haue done as you haue done, that's what I can,
Induc'd as you haue beene, that's for my Countrey:
He that ha's but effected his good will,
Hath ouerta'ne mine Act
Com. You shall not be the Graue of your deseruing,
Rome must know the value of her owne:
'Twere a Concealement worse then a Theft,
No lesse then a Traducement,
To hide your doings, and to silence that,
Which to the spire, and top of prayses vouch'd,
Would seeme but modest: therefore I beseech you,
In signe of what you are, not to reward
What you haue done, before our Armie heare me
Martius. I haue some Wounds vpon me, and they smart
To heare themselues remembred
Com. Should they not:
Well might they fester 'gainst Ingratitude,
And tent themselues with death: of all the Horses,
Whereof we haue ta'ne good, and good store of all,
The Treasure in this field atchieued, and Citie,
We render you the Tenth, to be ta'ne forth,
Before the common distribution,
At your onely choyse
Martius. I thanke you Generall:
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A Bribe, to pay my Sword: I doe refuse it,
And stand vpon my common part with those,
That haue beheld the doing.
A long flourish. They all cry, Martius, Martius, cast vp their Caps
and
Launces: Cominius and Lartius stand bare.
Mar. May these same Instruments, which you prophane,
Neuer sound more: when Drums and Trumpets shall
I'th' field proue flatterers, let Courts and Cities be
Made all of false-fac'd soothing:
When Steele growes soft, as the Parasites Silke,
Let him be made an Ouerture for th' Warres:
No more I say, for that I haue not wash'd
My Nose that bled, or foyl'd some debile Wretch,
Which without note, here's many else haue done,
You shoot me forth in acclamations hyperbolicall,
As if I lou'd my little should be dieted
In prayses, sawc'st with Lyes
Com. Too modest are you:
More cruell to your good report, then gratefull
To vs, that giue you truly: by your patience,
If 'gainst your selfe you be incens'd, wee'le put you
(Like one that meanes his proper harme) in Manacles,
Then reason safely with you: Therefore be it knowne,
As to vs, to all the World, That Caius Martius
Weares this Warres Garland: in token of the which,
My Noble Steed, knowne to the Campe, I giue him,
With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
For what he did before Corioles, call him,
With all th' applause and Clamor of the Hoast,
Marcus Caius Coriolanus. Beare th' addition Nobly euer?
Flourish. Trumpets sound, and Drums.
Omnes. Marcus Caius Coriolanus
Martius. I will goe wash:
And when my Face is faire, you shall perceiue
Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thanke you,
I meane to stride your Steed, and at all times
To vnder-crest your good Addition,
To th' fairenesse of my power
Com. So, to our Tent:
Where ere we doe repose vs, we will write
To Rome of our successe: you Titus Lartius
Must to Corioles backe, send vs to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate,
For their owne good, and ours
Lartius. I shall, my Lord
Martius. The Gods begin to mocke me:
I that now refus'd most Princely gifts,
Am bound to begge of my Lord Generall
Com. Tak't, 'tis yours: what is't?
Martius. I sometime lay here in Corioles,
At a poore mans house: he vs'd me kindly,
He cry'd to me: I saw him Prisoner:
But then Auffidius was within my view,
And Wrath o're-whelm'd my pittie: I request you
To giue my poore Host freedome
Com. Oh well begg'd:
Were he the Butcher of my Sonne, he should
Be free, as is the Winde: deliuer him, Titus
Lartius. Martius, his Name
Martius. By Iupiter forgot:
I am wearie, yea, my memorie is tyr'd:
Haue we no Wine here?
Com. Goe we to our Tent:
The bloud vpon your Visage dryes, 'tis time
It should be lookt too: come.
Exeunt.
A flourish. Cornets. Enter Tullus Auffidius bloudie, with two or
three
Souldiors.
Auffi. The Towne is ta'ne
Sould. 'Twill be deliuer'd backe on good Condition
Auffid. Condition?
I would I were a Roman, for I cannot,
Being a Volce, be that I am. Condition?
What good Condition can a Treatie finde
I'th' part that is at mercy? fiue times, Martius,
I haue fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me:
And would'st doe so, I thinke, should we encounter
As often as we eate. By th' Elements,
If ere againe I meet him beard to beard,
He's mine, or I am his: Mine Emulation
Hath not that Honor in't it had: For where
I thought to crush him in an equall Force,
True Sword to Sword: Ile potche at him some way,
Or Wrath, or Craft may get him
Sol. He's the diuell
Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: my valors poison'd,
With onely suff'ring staine by him: for him
Shall flye out of it selfe, nor sleepe, nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sicke; nor Phane, nor Capitoll,
The Prayers of Priests, nor times of Sacrifice:
Embarquements all of Fury, shall lift vp
Their rotten Priuiledge, and Custome 'gainst
My hate to Martius. Where I finde him, were it
At home, vpon my Brothers Guard, euen there
Against the hospitable Canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to th' Citie,
Learne how 'tis held, and what they are that must
Be Hostages for Rome
Soul. Will not you go?
Auf. I am attended at the Cyprus groue. I pray you
('Tis South the City Mils) bring me word thither
How the world goes: that to the pace of it
I may spurre on my iourney
Soul. I shall sir.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, Sicinius &
Brutus.
Men. The Agurer tels me, wee shall haue Newes to
night
Bru. Good or bad?
Men. Not according to the prayer of the people, for
they loue not Martius
Sicin. Nature teaches Beasts to know their Friends
Men. Pray you, who does the Wolfe loue?
Sicin. The Lambe
Men. I, to deuour him, as the hungry Plebeians would
the Noble Martius
Bru. He's a Lambe indeed, that baes like a Beare
Men. Hee's a Beare indeede, that liues like a Lambe.
You two are old men, tell me one thing that I shall aske
you
Both. Well sir
Men. In what enormity is Martius poore in, that you
two haue not in abundance?
Bru. He's poore in no one fault, but stor'd withall
Sicin. Especially in Pride
Bru. And topping all others in boasting
Men. This is strange now: Do you two know, how
you are censured heere in the City, I mean of vs a'th' right
hand File, do you?
Both. Why? how are we censur'd?
Men. Because you talke of Pride now, will you not
be angry
Both. Well, well sir, well
Men. Why 'tis no great matter: for a very little theefe
of Occasion, will rob you of a great deale of Patience:
Giue your dispositions the reines, and bee angry at your
pleasures (at the least) if you take it as a pleasure to you, in
being so: you blame Martius for being proud
Brut. We do it not alone, sir
Men. I know you can doe very little alone, for your
helpes are many, or else your actions would growe wondrous
single: your abilities are to Infant-like, for dooing
much alone. You talke of Pride: Oh, that you could turn
your eyes toward the Napes of your neckes, and make
but an Interiour suruey of your good selues. Oh that you
could
Both. What then sir?
Men. Why then you should discouer a brace of vnmeriting,
proud, violent, testie Magistrates (alias Fooles)
as any in Rome
Sicin. Menenius, you are knowne well enough too
Men. I am knowne to be a humorous Patritian, and
one that loues a cup of hot Wine, with not a drop of alaying
Tiber in't: Said, to be something imperfect in fauouring
the first complaint, hasty and Tinder-like vppon, to
triuiall motion: One, that conuerses more with the Buttocke
of the night, then with the forhead of the morning.
What I think, I vtter, and spend my malice in my breath.
Meeting two such Weales men as you are (I cannot call
you Licurgusses,) if the drinke you giue me, touch my Palat
aduersly, I make a crooked face at it, I can say, your
Worshippes haue deliuer'd the matter well, when I finde
the Asse in compound, with the Maior part of your syllables.
And though I must be content to beare with those,
that say you are reuerend graue men, yet they lye deadly,
that tell you haue good faces, if you see this in the Map
of my Microcosme, followes it that I am knowne well enough
too? What harme can your beesome Conspectuities
gleane out of this Charracter, if I be knowne well enough
too
Bru. Come sir come, we know you well enough
Menen. You know neither mee, your selues, nor any
thing: you are ambitious, for poore knaues cappes and
legges: you weare out a good wholesome Forenoone, in
hearing a cause betweene an Orendge wife, and a Forfetseller,
and then reiourne the Controuersie of three-pence
to a second day of Audience. When you are hearing a
matter betweene party and party, if you chaunce to bee
pinch'd with the Collike, you make faces like Mummers,
set vp the bloodie Flagge against all Patience, and
in roaring for a Chamber-pot, dismisse the Controuersie
bleeding, the more intangled by your hearing: All the
peace you make in their Cause, is calling both the parties
Knaues. You are a payre of strange ones
Bru. Come, come, you are well vnderstood to bee a
perfecter gyber for the Table, then a necessary Bencher in
the Capitoll
Men. Our very Priests must become Mockers, if they
shall encounter such ridiculous Subiects as you are, when
you speake best vnto the purpose. It is not woorth the
wagging of your Beards, and your Beards deserue not so
honourable a graue, as to stuffe a Botchers Cushion, or to
be intomb'd in an Asses Packe-saddle; yet you must bee
saying, Martius is proud: who in a cheape estimation, is
worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion, though peraduenture
some of the best of 'em were hereditarie hangmen.
Godden to your Worships, more of your conuersation
would infect my Braine, being the Heardsmen of
the Beastly Plebeans. I will be bold to take my leaue of
you.
Bru. and Scic. Aside.
Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria.
How now (my as faire as Noble) Ladyes, and the Moone
were shee Earthly, no Nobler; whither doe you follow
your Eyes so fast?
Volum. Honorable Menenius, my Boy Martius approches:
for the loue of Iuno let's goe
Menen. Ha? Martius comming home?
Volum. I, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous
approbation
Menen. Take my Cappe Iupiter, and I thanke thee:
hoo, Martius comming home?
2.Ladies. Nay, 'tis true
Volum. Looke, here's a Letter from him, the State hath
another, his Wife another, and (I thinke) there's one at
home for you
Menen. I will make my very house reele to night:
A Letter for me?
Virgil. Yes certaine, there's a Letter for you, I saw't
Menen. A Letter for me? it giues me an Estate of seuen
yeeres health; in which time, I will make a Lippe at
the Physician: The most soueraigne Prescription in Galen,
is but Emperickqutique; and to this Preseruatiue, of no
better report then a Horse-drench. Is he not wounded?
he was wont to come home wounded?
Virgil. Oh no, no, no
Volum. Oh, he is wounded, I thanke the Gods for't
Menen. So doe I too, if it be not too much: brings a
Victorie in his Pocket? the wounds become him
Volum. On's Browes: Menenius, hee comes the third
time home with the Oaken Garland
Menen. Ha's he disciplin'd Auffidius soundly?
Volum. Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but
Auffidius got off
Menen. And 'twas time for him too, Ile warrant him
that: and he had stay'd by him, I would not haue been so
fiddious'd, for all the Chests in Carioles, and the Gold
that's in them. Is the Senate possest of this?
Volum. Good Ladies let's goe. Yes, yes, yes: The
Senate ha's Letters from the Generall, wherein hee giues
my Sonne the whole Name of the Warre: he hath in this
action out-done his former deeds doubly
Valer. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him
Menen. Wondrous: I, I warrant you, and not without
his true purchasing
Virgil. The Gods graunt them true
Volum. True? pow waw
Mene. True? Ile be sworne they are true: where is
hee wounded, God saue your good Worships? Martius
is comming home: hee ha's more cause to be prowd:
where is he wounded?
Volum. Ith' Shoulder, and ith' left Arme: there will be
large Cicatrices to shew the People, when hee shall stand
for his place: he receiued in the repulse of Tarquin seuen
hurts ith' Body
Mene. One ith' Neck, and two ith' Thigh, there's nine
that I know
Volum. Hee had, before this last Expedition, twentie
fiue Wounds vpon him
Mene. Now it's twentie seuen; euery gash was an
Enemies Graue. Hearke, the Trumpets.
A showt, and flourish.
Volum. These are the Vshers of Martius:
Before him, hee carryes Noyse;
And behinde him, hee leaues Teares:
Death, that darke Spirit, in's neruie Arme doth lye,
Which being aduanc'd, declines, and then men dye.
A Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter Cominius the Generall, and Titus
Latius:
betweene them Coriolanus, crown'd with an Oaken Garland, with
Captaines and
Souldiers, and a Herauld.
Herauld. Know Rome, that all alone Martius did fight
Within Corioles Gates: where he hath wonne,
With Fame, a Name to Martius Caius:
These in honor followes Martius Caius Coriolanus.
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.
Sound. Flourish.
All. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus
Coriol. No more of this, it does offend my heart: pray
now no more
Com. Looke, Sir, your Mother
Coriol. Oh! you haue, I know, petition'd all the Gods
for my prosperitie.
Kneeles.
Volum. Nay, my good Souldier, vp:
My gentle Martius, worthy Caius,
And by deed-atchieuing Honor newly nam'd,
What is it (Coriolanus) must I call thee?
But oh, thy Wife
Corio. My gracious silence, hayle:
Would'st thou haue laugh'd, had I come Coffin'd home,
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah my deare,
Such eyes the Widowes in Carioles were,
And Mothers that lacke Sonnes
Mene. Now the Gods Crowne thee
Com. And liue you yet? Oh my sweet Lady, pardon
Volum. I know not where to turne.
Oh welcome home: and welcome Generall,
And y'are welcome all
Mene. A hundred thousand Welcomes:
I could weepe, and I could laugh,
I am light, and heauie; welcome:
A Curse begin at very root on's heart,
That is not glad to see thee.
You are three, that Rome should dote on:
Yet by the faith of men, we haue
Some old Crab-trees here at home,
That will not be grafted to your Rallish.
Yet welcome Warriors:
Wee call a Nettle, but a Nettle;
And the faults of fooles, but folly
Com. Euer right
Cor. Menenius, euer, euer
Herauld. Giue way there, and goe on
Cor. Your Hand, and yours?
Ere in our owne house I doe shade my Head,
The good Patricians must be visited,
From whom I haue receiu'd not onely greetings,
But with them, change of Honors
Volum. I haue liued,
To see inherited my very Wishes,
And the Buildings of my Fancie:
Onely there's one thing wanting,
Which (I doubt not) but our Rome
Will cast vpon thee
Cor. Know, good Mother,
I had rather be their seruant in my way,
Then sway with them in theirs
Com. On, to the Capitall.
Flourish. Cornets.
Exeunt. in State, as before.
Enter Brutus and Scicinius
Bru. All tongues speake of him, and the bleared sights
Are spectacled to see him. Your pratling Nurse
Into a rapture lets her Baby crie,
While she chats him: the Kitchin Malkin pinnes
Her richest Lockram 'bout her reechie necke,
Clambring the Walls to eye him:
Stalls, Bulkes, Windowes, are smother'd vp,
Leades fill'd, and Ridges hors'd
With variable Complexions; all agreeing
In earnestnesse to see him: seld-showne Flamins
Doe presse among the popular Throngs, and puffe
To winne a vulgar station: our veyl'd Dames
Commit the Warre of White and Damaske
In their nicely gawded Cheekes, toth' wanton spoyle
Of Phoebus burning Kisses: such a poother,
As if that whatsoeuer God, who leades him,
Were slyly crept into his humane powers,
And gaue him gracefull posture
Scicin. On the suddaine, I warrant him Consull
Brutus. Then our Office may, during his power, goe
sleepe
Scicin. He cannot temp'rately transport his Honors,
From where he should begin, and end, but will
Lose those he hath wonne
Brutus. In that there's comfort
Scici. Doubt not,
The Commoners, for whom we stand, but they
Vpon their ancient mallice, will forget
With the least cause, these his new Honors,
Which that he will giue them, make I as little question,
As he is prowd to doo't
Brutus. I heard him sweare,
Were he to stand for Consull, neuer would he
Appeare i'th' Market place, nor on him put
The Naples Vesture of Humilitie,
Nor shewing (as the manner is) his Wounds
Toth' People, begge their stinking Breaths
Scicin. 'Tis right
Brutus. It was his word:
Oh he would misse it, rather then carry it,
But by the suite of the Gentry to him,
And the desire of the Nobles
Scicin. I wish no better, then haue him hold that purpose,
and to put it in execution
Brutus. 'Tis most like he will
Scicin. It shall be to him then, as our good wills; a
sure destruction
Brutus. 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: that to's power he would
Haue made them Mules, silenc'd their Pleaders,
And dispropertied their Freedomes; holding them,
In humane Action, and Capacitie,
Of no more Soule, nor fitnesse for the World,
Then Cammels in their Warre, who haue their Prouand
Onely for bearing Burthens, and sore blowes
For sinking vnder them
Scicin. This (as you say) suggested,
At some time, when his soaring Insolence
Shall teach the People, which time shall not want,
If he be put vpon't, and that's as easie,
As to set Dogges on Sheepe, will be his fire
To kindle their dry Stubble: and their Blaze
Shall darken him for euer.
Enter a Messenger.
Brutus. What's the matter?
Mess. You are sent for to the Capitoll:
'Tis thought, that Martius shall be Consull:
I haue seene the dumbe men throng to see him,
And the blind to heare him speak: Matrons flong Gloues,
Ladies and Maids their Scarffes, and Handkerchers,
Vpon him as he pass'd: the Nobles bended
As to Ioues Statue, and the Commons made
A Shower, and Thunder, with their Caps, and Showts:
I neuer saw the like
Brutus. Let's to the Capitoll,
And carry with vs Eares and Eyes for th' time,
But Hearts for the euent
Scicin. Haue with you.
Exeunt.
Enter two Officers, to lay Cushions, as it were, in the Capitoll.
1.Off. Come, come, they are almost here: how many
stand for Consulships?
2.Off. Three, they say: but 'tis thought of euery one,
Coriolanus will carry it
1.Off. That's a braue fellow: but hee's vengeance
prowd, and loues not the common people
2.Off. 'Faith, there hath beene many great men that
haue flatter'd the people, who ne're loued them; and there
be many that they haue loued, they know not wherefore:
so that if they loue they know not why, they hate vpon
no better a ground. Therefore, for Coriolanus neyther to
care whether they loue, or hate him, manifests the true
knowledge he ha's in their disposition, and out of his Noble
carelesnesse lets them plainely see't