Coriolanus

Do you see, beyond the corner of the capitol, beyond the cornerstone?

What is that?

If you can block it with your little finger, there is some hope that the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, might prevail with him. But I don’t think there is any hope. Our fate is sealed. Our throats wait to be slit.

Is it possible that a man can change so much in so short a time?

There’s a difference between a caterpillar and a butterfly, but butterflies were once caterpillars. This Martius has grown from man to dragon: he has wings—he’s more than a creeping thing.

He loved his mother dearly.

He also loved me. He won’t remember his mother any more than an eight-year-old horse would. The tartness of his face makes ripe grapes go sour. When he walks, he moves like a war machine, and the ground sinks beneath his feet. He’s able to pierce armor with his eye, he talks like a death knell, and his voice itself is an assault. He sits on his throne, looking like a statue of Alexander the Great. His orders are carried out as soon as he gives them. All that he lacks to be a god is immortality and a heaven to rule.

He lacks the mercy of a god, if you’re telling the truth.

I’m giving a sketch of his character. Let’s see how much mercy his mother gets out of him. There’s no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger. Our poor city will soon find this out, and it’s all because of you.

May the gods be good to us!

No, in this case the gods won’t be good to us. When we banished him, we dishonored them. And now he’s returning to break our necks, which shows that they don’t respect us.

Sir, if you want to save your life, go home immediately. The people have taken custody of your fellow tribune and are hauling him up and down the street, all swearing that if the Roman ladies don’t return with a peaceful resolution, they’ll torture him to death.

What’s the news?

Good news, good news! The ladies have prevailed, the Volsces have retreated, and Martius is gone! Rome has never had a happier day. Not even the expulsion of the Tarquins tops this.

Friend, are you certain this is true? Is it absolutely certain?

As certain as I know the sun is fire. Where have you been that you doubt it? The tide has never blown more quickly through an arch as this reassuring news has blown through the gates. Why, look here!

The trumpets, trombones, strings and pipes, drums and cymbals, and the shouting Romans sparkle in the sun. Listen!

This is good news. I’ll go meet the ladies. This Volumnia is worth of a city full of consuls, senators, and patricians, and she’s worth a sea and land full of tribunes. You have prayed well today. This morning I thought the chance that you’d live was one in ten thousand. Look how happy they are!

First, may the gods bless you for your good news, and then accept my thanks.

Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks.

Are they near the city?

They’re just about to enter.

We’ll meet them and join the celebration.