Coriolanus

Hurry up. They’re almost here. How many are being considered for the consul?

Three, they say. But everyone thinks Coriolanus will get it.

He’s a brave man, but he’s too proud, and he doesn’t care about the common people.

There have been many great men who have flattered the people but whom the people never liked, and there have been many that the people liked for unknown reasons. Since they can like someone without knowing why, at least when they dislike someone, it’s for an equally vague reason. So for Coriolanus not to care whether they like him or not shows that he actually knows them quite well, and out of his own indifference to public opinion, he lets them know that he doesn’t care.

If he didn’t care whether or not he had their support, he would be indifferent to either doing them good or harm. But he provokes their hatred with more intensity than they can they can hate him with in return. He has done everything possible for them to see him as their enemy. However, to pretend to desire the ill will of the people is as bad as flattering them for their approval—something he would never do.

He has served his country honorably and his route to prominence has not been nearly as easy as those who, having been lenient and kind to the people, only tipped their hats to get ahead. But he has boasted in their faces so much about his fame and his actions, that if they don’t pay attention to this, they would be harming themselves. If they lie about his prideful behavior, no one would believe them. Everyone would say otherwise.

Stop talking about him. He’s a worthy man. Make way. They’re coming.

Once we decide what to do about the Volsces and send for Titus Lartius, the main point of this meeting is still to reward his noble service in defending his country. Therefore, most respected and honorable elders, the present consul and the general in our victorious battles desires to report a little of the worthy work performed by Caius Martius Coriolanus, whom we have invited here both to thank and to honor. (Coriolanus sits)

Speak as long as you need, good Cominius. Leave nothing out. Better that he think we don’t have the resources to reward to him than that we don’t have the patience to listen to the full report. (to the tribunes) Representatives of the people, we request you to listen kindly, and afterward to convince the people to agree to what we suggest.

We’ve come here to consider this question, and we’re inclined to honor and advance the cause of our constituents.

Which we’ll happily do, and soon, if he can remember to value the people more highly than he has previously.

That’s not the point. I wish you had been silent. Please, will you let Cominius speak?

Most willingly. But my caution was more important than you realize.

He cares about the common people. Just don’t expect him to be closely involved with them. Worthy Cominius, speak.

No, stay where you are.

Sit, Coriolanus. Never be embarrassed to hear of your noble deeds.

I’m sorry, your honor. I’d rather let my wounds heal than hear how I got them.

Sir, I hope my words didn’t cause you to get up.

No, sir. While I don’t run from fights, I do often run from praise. But you didn’t flatter me, so I wasn’t offended. But the people you represent are worth so little, so I care so little about them.

Please, sit down.

I’d rather let someone scratch my head in the sun when the trumpet summons me to battle than sit here and listen to my small deeds be over-embellished.

Representatives of the people, your constituents reproduce all the time, and there’s only one good man among every thousand of them—how can he flatter them? You see now he’d rather risk his whole life for honor than risk one of his ears to hear about it. Go on, Cominius.

I won’t say much. The deeds of Coriolanus shouldn’t be spoken of lightly. It’s well known that courage is the highest virtue and brings the highest dignity to whoever has it. And if that’s true, there’s no one in the world who is more dignified than the man I speak of. At age sixteen, when Tarquin attacked Rome, his fighting exceeded everyone else’s. Our former leader, whom I reference with all praise, saw him fight victoriously against adults when he was still young and had a beardless chin. He protected the overwhelmed Romans and as the consul watched, he defeated three enemies. He fought Tarquin himself and brought him to his knees. In that day of fighting, when he was young enough to play a woman on stage, he proved to be the best man in the field, and he was rewarded with a garland of oak. He entered into manhood, though he was still a boy, with the force of a rising tide. He has led the attack in seventeen battles since then, and he has won the garland over his fellow soldiers every time. As for this last battle, outside of and within Corioles, I have no words to describe what he did. He stopped the Roman deserters and by his rare example made these cowards overcome their fear and become warriors. The men obeyed and fell beneath his prow like waves beneath a sailboat. Wherever he swung his sword, he marked the sign of death. From head to toe he was covered in blood, and his every motion was followed by dying cries. He entered the deadly gate of the city alone, and he painted it with the blood of their inevitable destiny. Without help, he retreated, but with a sudden burst of energy he attacked Corioles with the force of a planet. Then the city was all his. After a while, as the noise of war began to wear him down, his spirit reinvigorated his tired body, and he came back to the battle and ran furiously at the enemy, as if it were an endless slaughter. He never stopped to catch his breath until both the field and city were ours.

Worthy man!

He definitely measures up to the honors we have for him.

He rejected our spoils and looked at precious things as if they were the common muck of the world. He doesn’t desire anything. To him, doing his deeds is its own reward, and he’s happy to spend the time to do the job well.

He’s very noble. Let’s call him here.

Call Coriolanus.

Here he is.

Coriolanus, the Senate is very happy to admit you to the consul.

I’ll always owe them my life and services.

All that remains is for you to speak to the people.

I beg you, let me skip that custom. I can’t put on the gown, stand without an undershirt, and show off my wounds just so they’ll vote for me. Please let me pass on doing this.

Sir, the people must have their say, and they won’t leave out one bit of the ceremony.

Don’t fight them on this. Go through with this custom and stand honorably as your predecessors have.

I’ll blush as I play this part. The people will be deceived.

(to Sicinius) Did you hear that?

To brag of the things I’ve done and show them my old scars, which I should hide—as if I’d received them only for the people to gasp at!

Don’t insist on this. Tribunes of the people, we ask that you recommend our proposal to the people. And to our noble consul wish we all joy and honor.

May all joy and honor come to Coriolanus!

You see how he intends to use the people.

May they know his intentions! He’ll ask for their support even though he hates that it’s in their power to give it.

Let’s go inform them of what’s happened here. I know they’re waiting for us in the marketplace.