The Tragedy of Coriolanus, William Shakespeare [read dune txt] 📗

pinched with the colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing: all the peace you make in their cause is calling both the parties knaves. You are a pair of strange ones.

BRUTUS. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.

MENENIUS. Our very priests must become mockers if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's cushion or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors since Deucalion; though peradventure some of the best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to your worships: more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.

[BRUTUS and SICINIUS retire.]

[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, &c.]

How now, my as fair as noble ladies, - and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler, - whither do you follow your eyes so fast?

VOLUMNIA. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go.

MENENIUS. Ha! Marcius coming home!

VOLUMNIA. Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation.

MENENIUS. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. - Hoo! Marcius coming home!

VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA. Nay, 'tis true.

VOLUMNIA. Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath another, his wife another; and I think there's one at home for you.

MENENIUS. I will make my very house reel to-night. - A letter for me?

VIRGILIA. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it.

MENENIUS. A letter for me! It gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.

VIRGILIA. O, no, no, no.

VOLUMNIA. O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for't.

MENENIUS. So do I too, if it be not too much. - Brings a victory in his pocket? - The wounds become him.

VOLUMNIA. On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home with the oaken garland.

MENENIUS. Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?

VOLUMNIA. Titus Lartius writes, - they fought together, but Aufidius got off.

MENENIUS. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli and the gold that's in them. Is the Senate possessed of this?

VOLUMNIA. Good ladies, let's go. - Yes, yes, yes; the Senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.

VALERIA. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.

MENENIUS. Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.

VIRGILIA. The gods grant them true!

VOLUMNIA. True! pow, wow.

MENENIUS. True! I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded? - [To the TRIBUNES, who come forward.] God save your good worships! Marcius is coming home; he has more cause to be proud. - Where is he wounded?

VOLUMNIA. 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 received in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i' the body.

MENENIUS. One i' the neck and two i' the thigh, - there's nine that I know.

VOLUMNIA. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.

MENENIUS. Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. [A shout and flourish.] Hark! the trumpets.

VOLUMNIA. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him He carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears; Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; Which, being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.

[A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with CAPTAINS and Soldiers and a HERALD.]

HERALD. Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these In honour follows Coriolanus: - Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!

[Flourish.]

ALL. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!

CORIOLANUS. No more of this, it does offend my heart; Pray now, no more.

COMINIUS. Look, sir, your mother!

CORIOLANUS. O, You have, I know, petition'd all the gods For my prosperity!

[Kneels.]

VOLUMNIA. Nay, my good soldier, up; My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and By deed-achieving honour newly nam'd, - What is it? - Coriolanus must I call thee? But, O, thy wife!

CORIOLANUS. My gracious silence, hail! Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, And mothers that lack sons.

MENENIUS. Now the gods crown thee!

CORIOLANUS. And live you yet? [To VALERIA] - O my sweet lady, pardon.

VOLUMNIA. I know not where to turn. - O, welcome home; - and welcome, general; - and you are welcome all.

MENENIUS. A hundred thousand welcomes. - I could weep And I could laugh; I am light and heavy. - 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 have some old crab trees here at home that will not Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors. We call a nettle but a nettle; and The faults of fools but folly.

COMINIUS. Ever right.

CORIOLANUS. Menenius ever, ever.

HERALD. Give way there, and go on!

CORIOLANUS. [To his wife and mother.] Your hand, and yours: Ere in our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited; From whom I have receiv'd not only greetings, But with them change of honours.

VOLUMNIA. 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.

CORIOLANUS. Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way Than sway with them in theirs.

COMINIUS. On, to the Capitol.

[Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. The tribunes remain.]

BRUTUS. All tongues speak of him and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clamb'ring the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, Are smother'd up, leads fill'd and ridges hors'd With variable complexions; all agreeing In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens Do press among the popular throngs, and puff To win a vulgar station: our veil'd dames Commit the war of white and damask, in Their nicely gawded cheeks, to the wanton spoil Of Phoebus' burning kisses; such a pother, As if that whatsoever god who leads him Were slily crept into his human powers, And gave him graceful posture.

SICINIUS. On the sudden I warrant him consul.

BRUTUS. Then our office may During his power go sleep.

SICINIUS. He cannot temp'rately transport his honours From where he should begin and end; but will Lose those he hath won.

BRUTUS. In that there's comfort.

SICINIUS. Doubt not the commoners, for whom we stand, But they, upon their ancient malice will forget, With the least cause these his new honours; which That he will give them make as little question As he is proud to do't.

BRUTUS. 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.

SICINIUS. 'Tis right.

BRUTUS. It was his word: O, he would miss it rather Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, And the desire of the nobles.

SICINIUS. I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose, and to put it In execution.

BRUTUS. 'Tis most like he will.

SICINIUS. 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 Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, and Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them, In human action and capacity, Of no more soul nor fitness for the world Than camels in their war; who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them.

SICINIUS. This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall touch the people, - which time shall not want, If it be put upon't; and that's as easy As to set dogs on sheep, - will be his fire To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze Shall darken him for ever.

[Enter A MESSENGER.]

BRUTUS. What's the matter?

MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought That Marcius 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 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.

BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol; And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, But hearts for the event.

SICINIUS. Have with you.

[Exeunt.]


SCENE II. Rome. The Capitol.

[Enter two OFFICERS, to lay cushions.]

FIRST OFFICER. Come, come; they are almost here. How many stand for consulships?

SECOND OFFICER. Three, they say; but 'tis thought of every one Coriolanus will carry it.

FIRST OFFICER. That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud and loves not the common people.

SECOND OFFICER. Faith, there have been many great men that have flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there be many that they have loved, they know not wherefore; so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground: 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.

FIRST OFFICER. If he did not care whether he had their love or no, he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither good nor harm; but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can render it him; and leaves nothing undone that may fully discover him their opposite. Now to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes, - to flatter them for their love.

SECOND OFFICER. He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been supple