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Coriolanus

Act 2, Scene 1

Rome. A public place.	A public place in Rome.
Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS.	MENENIUS enters with SICINIUS and BRUTUS, the two tribunes of the people.
MENENIUS The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.	MENENIUS The fortuneteller tells me we’ll receive news tonight.
BRUTUS Good or bad?	BRUTUS Good news or bad?
MENENIUS Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Martius.	MENENIUS Not the news people prayed for—they have no love for Martius.
SICINIUS Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.	SICINIUS In nature, animals learn who their friends are.
MENENIUS Pray you, who does the wolf love?	MENENIUS Tell me, who does the wolf love?
SICINIUS The lamb.	SICINIUS The lamb.
MENENIUS Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Martius.	MENENIUS Yes, to devour him, as the hungry citizens would love to devour the noble Martius.
BRUTUS He’s a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.	BRUTUS Martius is like a lamb, a lamb that roars like a bear.
MENENIUS He’s a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.	MENENIUS Martius is like a bear, a bear that lives like a lamb. You two have been around a long time, answer one question for me.
BOTH Well, sir.	BOTH What do you want to know, sir?
MENENIUS In what enormity is Martius poor in, that you two have not in abundance?	MENENIUS Tell me a quality that Martius lacks but that you two have in abundance.
BRUTUS He’s poor in no one fault, but stored with all.	BRUTUS He doesn’t have just one fault—he has every fault.
SICINIUS Especially in pride.	SICINIUS Especially pride.
BRUTUS And topping all others in boasting.	BRUTUS And boasting, above all.
MENENIUS This is strange now: do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o’ the right-hand file? do you?	MENENIUS One thing is strange though. Do you two know how you are regarded by the nobles of the city? Do you?
BOTH Why, how are we censured?	BOTH How are we seen?
MENENIUS Because you talk of pride now,—will you not be angry?	MENENIUS Because you talk of pride now, won’t you get angry if I tell you?
BOTH Well, well, sir, well.	BOTH No, not at all, sir.
MENENIUS Why, ’tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: give your dispositions the reins, and be 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?	MENENIUS Well, it doesn’t take much. Even the slightest incident will cause you to lose your patience and let your disposition take over. You become angry at what you should have enjoyed, and your only enjoyment comes from being angry. And yet you blame Martius for being proud?
BRUTUS We do it not alone, sir.	BRUTUS We’re not alone in our opinion, sir.
MENENIUS I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infant-like for doing much 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!	MENENIUS I know you can do very little alone. Without all the help you get, your actions would be totally insignificant. Your abilities aren’t strong enough for you to do much on your own. You talk of pride. If only you could see yourselves as you really are! I wish you could!
BRUTUS What then, sir?	BRUTUS And what if we could, sir?
MENENIUS Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as any in Rome.	MENENIUS You’d see that you are equal to all the other unqualified, proud, violent, testy government officials—in other words, fools—in Rome.
SICINIUS Menenius, you are known well enough too.	SICINIUS Menenius, you have a bad reputation, too.
MENENIUS 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; said to be something imperfect in favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like upon too trivial motion; 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. Meeting two such wealsmen as you are—I cannot call you Lycurguses—if the drink you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I can’t say your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables: and though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough too? what barm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too?	MENENIUS I’m known as a moody aristocrat, and one that loves a cup of hot wine not diluted by even a drop of water from the Tiber River. I’m said to be somewhat flawed as a judge because I’m hastily swayed by the first argument I hear. I’m quick to anger at the slightest disturbance. I stay up late at night and don’t rise early in the morning. I say whatever I think and express my anger when I speak. Meeting two statesmen such as yourselves—I cannot call you lawmakers—if I don’t like the drink you give me, I make a crooked face at it. I don’t think you deserve the respectful titles of your profession, when I find most of what you say to be asinine. And though I can tolerate those that say you are respectable, serious men, the ones who say you are honest are deadly liars. If you see these same qualities in me, doesn’t it make sense that I’m known for my bad qualities? What harm can your misperceptions do to my character, if I already have a bad reputation?
BRUTUS Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.	BRUTUS That’s enough, sir. We know your reputation well.
MENENIUS You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves’ caps and legs: you wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be 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.	MENENIUS You don’t know anything about me, or about yourselves. Your ambition is to have poor citizens take off their hats and bow down to you. You’ll waste a whole morning listening to a dispute over three pence between an orange vendor and a wine tap seller and then postpone settling the issue until the next day. When you’re hearing a matter between two parties, if you’re feeling the tiniest bit sick, you become very dramatic: you violently refuse to be patient and, demanding a chamber pot, dismiss the controversy, leaving it even more entangled as a result of your hearing it. The only justice you show is in calling both parties scoundrels. You’re a pair of strange men.
BRUTUS Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table than a necessary bencher in the Capitol.	BRUTUS Come, come. You’re well known to be a better dinner-table conversationalist than a serious judge.
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’ pack- saddle. Yet you must be saying, Martius is proud; who in a cheap estimation, is worth 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.	MENENIUS Even our priests would become mockers if they encountered anyone as ridiculous as you. When you stay on topic, what you say isn’t worth the wagging of your beards. And your beards don’t even deserve the honorable burial of being stuffed in a seamstress’ cushion or being entombed in the pack saddle of a donkey. You say Martius is proud, but even guessing conservatively, he’s worth all your predecessors since Deucalion, who survived the flood, even though some of them may have been hangmen. Good evening to you both. To keep talking with you would infect my brain, since you are the herdsmen of the beastly common people. I must go.
BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside	BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside.
Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA	VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA enter.
How now, my as fair as noble ladies,—and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler,—whither do you follow your eyes so fast?	How are you, my dear noble ladies? You are like the moon on earth—what are you looking at?
VOLUMNIA Honourable Menenius, my boy Martius approaches; for the love of Juno, let’s go.	VOLUMNIA Honorable Menenius, my son Martius approaches. For the love of Juno, let’s go.
MENENIUS Ha! Martius coming home!	MENENIUS What? Martius is coming home?
VOLUMNIA Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.	VOLUMNIA Yes, worthy Menenius, and he’s proudly victorious.
MENENIUS Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! Martius coming home!	MENENIUS I take my hat off in thanks to you, Jupiter, king of the gods. Hoo! Martius is coming home!
VOLUMNIA AND VIRGILIA Nay, ’tis true.	VOLUMNIA AND VIRGILIA Yes, it’s 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.	VOLUMNIA Look, here’s a letter from him. He sent another to the Senate and another to his wife. I think there’s one at home for you.
MENENIUS I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for me!	MENENIUS My household will be thrilled tonight. A letter for me!
VIRGILIA Yes, certain, there’s a letter for you; I saw’t.	VIRGILIA Yes, I’m 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.	MENENIUS A letter for me! It makes me live seven years longer, and all the while I’ll laugh at my doctor. The most well-established prescription according to the great doctor Galen is nothing but an experimental cure, and compared to this news, it’s worth no more than horse medicine. Is he wounded? He was likely to come home wounded.
VIRGILIA O, no, no, no.	VIRGILIA Oh, no, no, no.
VOLUMNIA O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for’t.	VOLUMNIA Oh, yes, he’s wounded, and I thank the gods for it.
MENENIUS So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a’ victory in his pocket? the wounds become him.	MENENIUS As do I, if he’s not wounded too much. If he brings home victory, the wounds are appropriate.
VOLUMNIA On’s brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home with the oaken garland.	VOLUMNIA He’s wounded on his forehead. Menenius, this is the third time he’s come home with the garland of oak.
MENENIUS Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?	MENENIUS Has he thoroughly beaten Aufidius?
VOLUMNIA Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.	VOLUMNIA Titus Lartius writes that they fought each other, but Aufidius got away.
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?	MENENIUS It was Aufidius’ time to die. For all the chests in Corioles and the gold that’s in them, I bet that if Martius had captured him, he would’ve gotten the beating he deserved. Does the Senate know about 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	VOLUMNIA Good ladies, let’s go. Yes, yes, yes! Cominius has written to the Senate and named my son responsible for the victory. His accomplishments in this war are double all his past deeds.
VALERIA In troth, there’s wondrous things spoke of him.	VALERIA It’s true, there are wonderful things said about him.
MENENIUS Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.	MENENIUS Wonderful! Yes, it’s true, and none that he didn’t earn.
VIRGILIA The gods grant them true!	VIRGILIA Oh, gods, may these words be true!
VOLUMNIA True! pow, wow.	VOLUMNIA True? Pooh-whoo!
MENENIUS True! I’ll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded?	MENENIUS True? I promise they’re true. Where is he wounded?
To the Tribunes	To the Tribunes
God save your good worships! Martius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?	May you be well, good sirs! Martius is coming home. He has new reasons to be proud. (to Volumnia) 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.	VOLUMNIA In the shoulder and in the left arm. There will be large scars to show the people, when he stands to receive his place as consul. When he defeated the king Tarquin, he was wounded seven times.
MENENIUS One i’ the neck, and two i’ the thigh,—there’s nine that I know.	MENENIUS Once in the neck and twice in the thigh. There are nine wounds that I know of.
VOLUMNIA He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.	VOLUMNIA Before this last expedition, he had twenty-five wounds in total.
MENENIUS Now it’s twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy’s grave.	MENENIUS Now it’s twenty-seven. Every gash represents an enemy who has died.
A shout and flourish	Trumpets sound, and a shout comes from offstage.
Hark! the trumpets.	Hark! The trumpets.
VOLUMNIA These are the ushers of Martius: 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.	VOLUMNIA These men walk ahead of Martius to introduce him. Many cheers welcome him, and he leaves behind many tears. Death, that dark spirit, lies within his strong arm. When he raises his arm, it comes down upon his enemies and they die.
A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald	Trumpets sound in a different melody. COMINIUS, the general, and TITUS LARTIUS enter. Between them stands CORIOLANUS crowned with a garland of oak, with captains and soldiers and a Herald
HERALD Know, Rome, that all alone Martius did fight Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, With fame, a name to Caius Martius; these In honour follows Coriolanus. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!	HERALD Romans, let it be known that Martius fought all alone within Corioles’ gates. There he won, along with honor, a new name. The name “Coriolanus” now respectfully follows “Caius Martius.” Welcome to Rome, the renowned Coriolanus!
Flourish	Trumpets sound.
ALL Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!	ALL Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
CORIOLANUS No more of this; it does offend my heart: Pray now, no more.	CORIOLANUS No more praise. I don’t like it. Please now, no more.
COMINIUS Look, sir, your mother!	COMINIUS Look, sir, your mother!
CORIOLANUS O, You have, I know, petition’d all the gods For my prosperity!	CORIOLANUS You have, I know, begged all the gods to grant me victory!
Kneels	He kneels.
VOLUMNIA Nay, my good soldier, up; My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, and By deed-achieving honour newly named,— What is it?—Coriolanus must I call thee?— But O, thy wife!	VOLUMNIA No, my good soldier, get up. My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, and through your honor achieved by your actions, newly named—what is it?—Coriolanus must I call thee? (Coriolanus rises) But oh, your wife!
CORIOLANUS 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.	CORIOLANUS There you are, my lovely silent wife! Would you have laughed if I had come home in a coffin, since you are crying to see me come home in victory? Ah, my dear, your eyes look like the widows and the mothers who have lost sons in Corioles.
MENENIUS Now, the gods crown thee!	MENENIUS Now, the gods crown you!
CORIOLANUS And live you yet? (to VALERIA) O my sweet lady, pardon.	CORIOLANUS Are you still alive? (to Valeria) I’m sorry, my sweet lady.
VOLUMNIA I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: And welcome, general: and ye’re welcome all.	VOLUMNIA I don’t know where to turn. Oh, welcome home! And welcome, general! 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.	MENENIUS A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep and I could laugh. I’m happy and sad. Welcome. May a curse reach to the very root of anyone’s heart who isn’t happy to see you! Rome should honor you as it would three men. However, we have some bitter old men here who refuse to applaud you. But welcome, warriors! Some things just are what they are, and fools don’t understand.
COMINIUS Ever right.	COMINIUS You’re right.
CORIOLANUS Menenius ever, ever.	CORIOLANUS You’re always right, Menenius.
HERALD Give way there, and go on!	HERALD Make way. Keep walking.
CORIOLANUS (to VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA) Your hand, and yours: Ere in our own house I do shade my head, The good patricians must be visited; From whom I have received not only greetings, But with them change of honours.	CORIOLANUS (to Volumnia and Virgilia) Give me your hands. Before I can go home and rest, I must visit the nobles because they haven’t only welcomed me back but have also honored me with this new name.
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.	VOLUMNIA I’ve lived to see all my wishes come true and to possess all the things I wanted. Now there’s only one thing left, which I’m sure that Rome will give you.
CORIOLANUS Know, good mother, I had rather be their servant in my way, Than sway with them in theirs.	CORIOLANUS Mother, you know I’d prefer to serve the senators as a soldier than to be a public servant myself.
COMINIUS On, to the Capitol!	COMINIUS Let’s go the capitol!
Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward	Trumpets sounds. All exit except BRUTUS and SICINIUS.
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, Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, Are smother’d up, leads fill’d, and ridges horsed 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: or 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.	BRUTUS Everyone is talking about him. People who are nearly blind wear glasses just to see him. Babbling nurses let babies cry in a tantrum while they talk about him. The kitchen maid pins her best linen around her dirty neck and climbs up the wall to see him. Storefronts are boarded up, leaden roofs covered over and all different types of people are riding their horses on top of the roofs, all trying to see him. Priests who rarely come out in public are mixed in with the common people and struggle to find a place in the crowd. Women who usually wear veils are letting their pale cheeks get sunburned. There is such mayhem that it seems like whichever god is guiding Martius has taken over his very body and given him a godly way of being.
SICINIUS On the sudden, I warrant him consul.	SICINIUS It seems like he may become a member of the consul.
BRUTUS Then our office may, During his power, go sleep.	BRUTUS We’d lose power if he were admitted to the consul.
SICINIUS He cannot temperately transport his honours From where he should begin and end, but will Lose those he hath won.	SICINIUS He won’t be able to translate his fame in battle into some other kind of victory. If he tries, he’ll lose the honor he has won.
BRUTUS In that there’s comfort.	BRUTUS That’s comforting.
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 I as little question As he is proud to do’t.	SICINIUS Don’t doubt the common people we represent. Their longstanding hatred for him will cause them to overlook his new honors with only the slightest provocation. And given his pride, he’ll undoubtedly provoke them.
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.	BRUTUS I heard him declare that if he were to seek nomination to the consul, he would never appear in the marketplace wearing the traditional poor man’s gown to show his humility. Nor would he show off his wounds to the people to win their approval.
SICINIUS ’Tis right.	SICINIUS Is that so?
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.	BRUTUS He said he’d rather not be in the consul if he couldn’t be admitted simply by the wishes of the middle class and the nobles.
SICINIUS I wish no better Than have him hold that purpose and to put it In execution.	SICINIUS I hope he stays with that plan.
BRUTUS ’Tis most like he will.	BRUTUS Most likely, he will.
SICINIUS It shall be to him then as our good wills, A sure destruction.	SICINIUS What will happen to him then will be as we wish: he’ll surely lose.
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, silenced 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 the war, who have their provand Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows For sinking under them.	BRUTUS He must lose, or else our power will be over. We must remind the people of how much he still hates them, that if he were in charge, he’d make them work like mules, he would never listen to their requests and he’d take away their freedoms. He wouldn’t recognize their humanity or their souls. He’d hold them captive like the camels who only get fed so that they can carry heavy loads in service of the war and develop sores in the process.
SICINIUS This, as you say, suggested At some time when his soaring insolence Shall touch the people—which time shall not want, If he 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.	SICINIUS We need to suggest this possibility to the people at a time when they’re already irritated by his arrogance. There will be many occasions for this. It’s as easy to get him to show off his pride as it is to get dogs to chase sheep. His pride will be like fire to their kindling wood, and their blaze will ruin him forever.
Enter a Messenger	A Messenger enters.
BRUTUS What’s the matter?	BRUTUS What’s going on?
MESSENGER You are sent for to the Capitol. ’Tis thought That Martius 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.	MESSENGER The capitol sends for you. It’s thought that Martius will be admitted to the consul. I saw mute people form crowds to see him and blind people to hear him speak. Married women threw their gloves to him and ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs. As he passed by, the nobles bowed to him as they would to Jupiter’s statue. The common people made a shower with their caps and thunder with their shouts. I’ve never seen anything like it.
BRUTUS Let’s to the Capitol; And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, But hearts for the event.	BRUTUS Let’s go to the Capitol and keep our eyes and ears open for the time being, while our heart remains set on our plan.
SICINIUS Have with you.	SICINIUS I’m with you.
Exeunt	All exit.