That since have felt the vigour of his rage.


Ist good to soothe him in these contraries?


It is no shame: the fellow finds his vein,


And yielding to him humours well his frenzy.


Thou hast subornd the goldsmith to arrest me.


By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.


Money by me! heart and goodwill you might;


Wentst not thou to her for a purse of ducats?


Mistress, both man and master is possessd;


I know it by their pale and deadly looks:


They must be bound and laid in some dark room.


Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day?


I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth.


But I confess, sir, that we were lockd out.


Dissembling villain, thou speakst false in both.


Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all;


But with these nails Ill pluck out these false eyes


That would behold in me this shameful sport.


Enter three or four, and offer to bind him. He strives


O, bind him, bind him! let him not come near me.


More company! The fiend is strong within him.


Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!


What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, thou,


I am thy prisoner: wilt thou suffer them


He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.


Go bind this man, for he is frantic too.


What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?


The debt he owes will be required of me.


I will discharge thee ere I go from thee:


And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.


Good master doctor, see him safe conveyd


Master, I am here entered in bond for you.


Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me?


Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, good master:


God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk!


Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me.


Exeunt all but Adriana, Luciana, Officer and Courtezan


One Angelo, a goldsmith: do you know him?


I know the man. What is the sum he owes?


Due for a chain your husband had of him.


He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.


Came to my house and took away my ring--


Straight after did I meet him with a chain.


Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is:


I long to know the truth hereof at large.


Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse with his rapier drawn, and DROMIO of Syracuse


God, for thy mercy! they are loose again.


Lets call more help to have them bound again.


Exeunt all but Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse


I see these witches are afraid of swords.


She that would be your wife now ran from you.


Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from thence:


I long that we were safe and sound aboard.


Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us


no harm: you saw they speak us fair, give us gold:


methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for


the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of


me, I could find in my heart to stay here still and


I will not stay to-night for all the town;


Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.


I am sorry, sir, that I have hinderd you;


Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.


How is the man esteemed here in the city?


Second to none that lives here in the city:


His word might bear my wealth at any time.


Speak softly; yonder, as I think, he walks.


Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse


Tis so; and that self chain about his neck


Which he forswore most monstrously to have.


Good sir, draw near to me, Ill speak to him.


That you would put me to this shame and trouble;


And, not without some scandal to yourself,


This chain which now you wear so openly:


Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment,


You have done wrong to this my honest friend,


Who, but for staying on our controversy,


This chain you had of me; can you deny it?


Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too.


These ears of mine, thou knowst did hear thee.


Fie on thee, wretch! tis pity that thou livest


Against thee presently, if thou darest stand.


Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the Courtezan, and others


Hold, hurt him not, for Gods sake! he is mad.


Some get within him, take his sword away:


Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.


Run, master, run; for Gods sake, take a house!


This is some priory. In, or we are spoild!


Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse to the Priory


Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?


To fetch my poor distracted husband hence.


Let us come in, that we may bind him fast


How long hath this possession held the man?


This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad,


Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea?


Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye


Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.


Which of these sorrows is he subject to?


To none of these, except it be the last;


Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.


You should for that have reprehended him.


Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.


And thereof came it that the man was mad.


Poisons more deadly than a mad dogs tooth.


It seems his sleeps were hinderd by thy railing,


And therefore comes it that his head is light.


Thou sayst his meat was sauced with thy upbraidings:


Thou sayst his sports were hinderd by thy brawls:


Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,


And at her heels a huge infectious troop


Of pale distemperatures and foes to life?


In food, in sport and life-preserving rest


To be disturbd, would mad or man or beast:


The consequence is then thy jealous fits


Have scared thy husband from the use of wits.


When he demeand himself rough, rude and wildly.


Why bear you these rebukes and answer not?


Then let your servants bring my husband forth.


Neither: he took this place for sanctuary,


And it shall privilege him from your hands


Till I have brought him to his wits again,


And therefore let me have him home with me.


Till I have used the approved means I have,


With wholesome syrups, drugs and holy prayers,


Therefore depart and leave him here with me.


I will not hence and leave my husband here:


Be quiet and depart: thou shalt not have him.


Complain unto the duke of this indignity.


Come, go: I will fall prostrate at his feet


And never rise until my tears and prayers


Have won his grace to come in person hither


And take perforce my husband from the abbess.


By this, I think, the dial points at five:


Anon, Im sure, the duke himself in person


Against the laws and statutes of this town,


See where they come: we will behold his death.


Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey.


Enter DUKE SOLINUS, attended; AEGEON bareheaded; with the Headsman and other Officers


He shall not die; so much we tender him.


Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess!


It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.


May it please your grace, Antipholus, my husband,


At your important letters,--this ill day


A most outrageous fit of madness took him;


That desperately he hurried through the street,


With him his bondman, all as mad as he--


By rushing in their houses, bearing thence


Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.


Once did I get him bound and sent him home,


Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went,


That here and there his fury had committed.


He broke from those that had the guard of him;


Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords,


Chased us away; till, raising of more aid,


We came again to bind them. Then they fled


Into this abbey, whither we pursued them:


And here the abbess shuts the gates on us


And will not suffer us to fetch him out,


Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence.


Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command


Let him be brought forth and borne hence for help.


Long since thy husband served me in my wars,


When thou didst make him master of thy bed,


To do him all the grace and good I could.


Go, some of you, knock at the abbey-gate


O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself!


My master and his man are both broke loose,


Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor


Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire;


And ever, as it blazed, they threw on him


Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair:


My master preaches patience to him and the while


His man with scissors nicks him like a fool,


And sure, unless you send some present help,


Between them they will kill the conjurer.


Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here,


And that is false thou dost report to us.


Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true;


I have not breathed almost since I did see it.


He cries for you, and vows, if he can take you,


To scorch your face and to disfigure you.


Hark, hark! I hear him, mistress. fly, be gone!


Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds!


Even now we housed him in the abbey here;


And now hes there, past thought of human reason.


Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and DROMIO of Ephesus


Justice, most gracious duke, O, grant me justice!


Even for the service that long since I did thee,


When I bestrid thee in the wars and took


Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood


That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.


Unless the fear of death doth make me dote,


Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there!


She whom thou gavest to me to be my wife,


Even in the strength and height of injury!


That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.


Discover how, and thou shalt find me just.


This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon me,


While she with harlots feasted in my house.


A grievous fault! Say, woman, didst thou so?


No, my good lord: myself, he and my sister


To-day did dine together. So befall my soul


Neer may I look on day, nor sleep on night,


But she tells to your highness simple truth!


O perjured woman! They are both forsworn:


In this the madman justly chargeth them.


Neither disturbed with the effect of wine,


Nor heady-rash, provoked with raging ire,


Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.


This woman lockd me out this day from dinner:


That goldsmith there, were he not packd with her,


Could witness it, for he was with me then;


Promising to bring it to the Porpentine,


Where Balthazar and I did dine together.


Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,


I went to seek him: in the street I met him


There did this perjured goldsmith swear me down


That I this day of him received the chain,


Which, God he knows, I saw not: for the which


For certain ducats: he with none returnd


They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain,


A threadbare juggler and a fortune-teller,


A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,


A dead-looking man: this pernicious slave,


And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,


And with no face, as twere, outfacing me,


Cries out, I was possessd. Then all together


They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence


There left me and my man, both bound together;


Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder,


Ran hither to your grace; whom I beseech


For these deep shames and great indignities.


My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him,


That he dined not at home, but was lockd out.


He had, my lord: and when he ran in here,


These people saw the chain about his neck.


Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine


Heard you confess you had the chain of him


After you first forswore it on the mart:


From whence, I think, you are come by miracle.


Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me:


I never saw the chain, so help me Heaven!


I think you all have drunk of Circes cup.


If here you housed him, here he would have been;


If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly:


You say he dined at home; the goldsmith here


Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?


Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porpentine.


He did, and from my finger snatchd that ring.


Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her.


As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.


Why, this is strange. Go call the abbess hither.


Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word:


Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt.


Is not your name, sir, calld Antipholus?


But he, I thank him, gnawd in two my cords:


For lately we were bound, as you are now


You are not Pinchs patient, are you, sir?


Why look you strange on me? you know me well.


O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,


And careful hours with times deformed hand


Have written strange defeatures in my face:


But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?


Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not; and whatsoever a


man denies, you are now bound to believe him.


Hast thou so crackd and splitted my poor tongue


In seven short years, that here my only son


Knows not my feeble key of untuned cares?


Though now this grained face of mine be hid


And all the conduits of my blood froze up,


My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left,


But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy,


Thou knowst we parted: but perhaps, my son,


Thou shamest to acknowledge me in misery.


The duke and all that know me in the city


I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.


Re-enter AEMILIA, with ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse


Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrongd.


I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.


One of these men is Genius to the other;


And so of these. Which is the natural man,


And which the spirit? who deciphers them?


O, my old master! who hath bound him here?


Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds


That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:


If thou art she, tell me where is that son


That floated with thee on the fatal raft?


By force took Dromio and my son from them


And me they left with those of Epidamnum.


Why, here begins his morning story right;


These two Antipholuses, these two so like,


And these two Dromios, one in semblance,--


Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,--


These are the parents to these children,


Antipholus, thou camest from Corinth first?


Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which.


I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord,--


Brought to this town by that most famous warrior,


Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.


Which of you two did dine with me to-day?


And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,


I hope I shall have leisure to make good;


That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.


And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.


By Dromio; but I think he brought it not.


This purse of ducats I received from you,


I see we still did meet each others man,


It shall not need; thy father hath his life.


There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer.


Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains


And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes:


And all that are assembled in this place,


Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail


Of you, my sons; and till this present hour


The duke, my husband and my children both,


And you the calendars of their nativity,


With all my heart, Ill gossip at this feast.


Exeunt all but Antipholus of Syracuse, Antipholus of Ephesus, Dromio of Syracuse and Dromio of Ephesus


Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard?


Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embarkd?


Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.


He speaks to me. I am your master, Dromio:


Come, go with us; well look to that anon:


Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him.


Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Antipholus of Ephesus


There is a fat friend at your masters house,


That kitchend me for you to-day at dinner:


She now shall be my sister, not my wife.


Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother:


Will you walk in to see their gossiping?


Well draw cuts for the senior: till then lead thou first.


We came into the world like brother and brother;


And now lets go hand in hand, not one before another.


Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons


Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.


You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?


First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.


Let us kill him, and well have corn at our own price.


No more talking ont; let it be done: away, away!


We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good.


What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they


would yield us but the superfluity, while it were


wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely;


but they think we are too dear: the leanness that


afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an


inventory to particularise their abundance; our


sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with


our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I


speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.


Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?


Against him first: hes a very dog to the commonalty.


Consider you what services he has done for his country?


Very well; and could be content to give him good


report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud.


I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did


it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be


content to say it was for his country he did it to


please his mother and to be partly proud; which he


is, even till the altitude of his virtue.


What he cannot help in his nature, you account a


vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.


If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations;


he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition.


What shouts are these? The other side o the city


is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!


Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved


Hes one honest enough: would all the rest were so!


What works, my countrymen, in hand? where go you


With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.


Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have


had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do,


which now well show em in deeds. They say poor


suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we


Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,


I tell you, friends, most charitable care


Have the patricians of you. For your wants,


Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well


Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them


Against the Roman state, whose course will on


The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs


Of more strong link asunder than can ever


Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,


The gods, not the patricians, make it, and


Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,


Thither where more attends you, and you slander


The helms o the state, who care for you like fathers,


Care for us! True, indeed! They neer cared for us


yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses


crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to


support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act


established against the rich, and provide more


piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain


the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and


Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you


A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;


But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture


Well, Ill hear it, sir: yet you must not think to


fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an t please


There was a time when all the bodys members


Rebelld against the belly, thus accused it:


I the midst o the body, idle and unactive,


Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing


Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments


Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,


Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,


Which neer came from the lungs, but even thus--


For, look you, I may make the belly smile


To the discontented members, the mutinous parts


That envied his receipt; even so most fitly


The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,


The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,


Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter.


Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then?


Should by the cormorant belly be restraind,


The former agents, if they did complain,


If youll bestow a small--of what you have little--


Patience awhile, youll hear the bellys answer.


Not rash like his accusers, and thus answerd:


True is it, my incorporate friends, quoth he,


That I receive the general food at first,


Because I am the store-house and the shop


Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,


I send it through the rivers of your blood,


Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o the brain;


And, through the cranks and offices of man,


The strongest nerves and small inferior veins


Whereby they live: and though that all at once,


You, my good friends,--this says the belly, mark me,--


From me do back receive the flour of all,


And leave me but the bran. What say you tot?


The senators of Rome are this good belly,


And you the mutinous members; for examine


Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly


Touching the weal o the common, you shall find


But it proceeds or comes from them to you


And no way from yourselves. What do you think,


For that, being one o the lowest, basest, poorest,


Of this most wise rebellion, thou gost foremost:


Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,


But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs:


Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;


Thanks. Whats the matter, you dissentious rogues,


That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,


He that will give good words to thee will flatter


Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,


That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,


The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,


Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;


Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,


To make him worthy whose offence subdues him


Deserves your hate; and your affections are


A sick mans appetite, who desires most that


Which would increase his evil. He that depends


Upon your favours swims with fins of lead


And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye?


And call him noble that was now your hate,


Him vile that was your garland. Whats the matter,


That in these several places of the city


Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else


Would feed on one another? Whats their seeking?


For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,


Theyll sit by the fire, and presume to know


Whats done i the Capitol; whos like to rise,


Who thrives and who declines; side factions


Conjectural marriages; making parties strong


And feebling such as stand not in their liking


Below their cobbled shoes. They say theres


Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,


And let me use my sword, Ill make a quarry


With thousands of these quarterd slaves, as high


Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;


For though abundantly they lack discretion,


Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,


They said they were an-hungry; sighd forth proverbs,


That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,


That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not


Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds


They vented their complainings; which being answerd,


And a petition granted them, a strange one--


And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps


As they would hang them on the horns o the moon,


Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,


Of their own choice: ones Junius Brutus,


Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--Sdeath!


The rabble should have first unroofd the city,


Ere so prevaild with me: it will in time


Win upon power and throw forth greater themes


The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.


I am glad on t: then we shall ha means to vent


Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.


Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS


Marcius, tis true that you have lately told us;


Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to t.


Were half to half the world by the ears and he.


Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus face.


Ill lean upon one crutch and fight with tother,


Your company to the Capitol; where, I know,


[To COMINIUS]                Lead you on.


[To the Citizens]  Hence to your homes; be gone!


The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither


To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners,


Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.


Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS


Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?


When we were chosen tribunes for the people,--


Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.


The present wars devour him: he is grown


Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow


Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder


In whom already hes well graced, can not


A place below the first: for what miscarries


Shall be the generals fault, though he perform


To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure


Half all Cominius honours are to Marcius.


Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults


To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed


How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,


Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators


That they of Rome are entered in our counsels


What ever have been thought on in this state,


That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome


Had circumvention? Tis not four days gone


Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think


I have the letter here; yes, here it is.


They have pressd a power, but it is not known


Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;


And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,


Whither tis bent: most likely tis for you:


We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready


To keep your great pretences veild till when


It seemd, appeard to Rome. By the discovery.


We shall be shortend in our aim, which was


Take your commission; hie you to your bands:


If they set down before s, for the remove


Bring your army; but, I think, youll find


Some parcels of their power are forth already,


And only hitherward. I leave your honours.


Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike


SCENE III. Rome. A room in Marcius house.


Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIAthey set them down on two low stools, and sew


I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a


more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I


should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he


won honour than in the embracements of his bed where


he would show most love. When yet he was but


tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when


youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when


for a day of kings entreaties a mother should not


sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering


how honour would become such a person. that it was


no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if


renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek


danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel


war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows


bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not


more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child


than now in first seeing he had proved himself a


But had he died in the business, madam; how then?


Then his good report should have been my son; I


therein would have found issue. Hear me profess


sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love


alike and none less dear than thine and my good


Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their


country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.


Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.


Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.


Methinks I hear hither your husbands drum,


See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair,


As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him:


Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:


Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear,


Though you were born in Rome: his bloody brow


With his maild hand then wiping, forth he goes,


Like to a harvest-man thats taskd to mow


Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,


When she did suckle Hector, lookd not lovelier


Than Hectors forehead when it spit forth blood


At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria,


Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!


Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman


How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers.


What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good


I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.


He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than


O my word, the fathers son: Ill swear,tis a


very pretty boy. O my troth, I looked upon him o


Wednesday half an hour together: has such a


confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded


butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go


again; and after it again; and over and over he


comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his


fall enraged him, or how twas, he did so set his


teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked


Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play


the idle husewife with me this afternoon.


No, good madam; I will not out of doors.


Indeed, no, by your patience; Ill not over the


threshold till my lord return from the wars.


Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come,


you must go visit the good lady that lies in.


I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with


Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.


You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all


the yarn she spun in Ulysses absence did but fill


Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric


were sensible as your finger, that you might leave


pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.


No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.


In truth, la, go with me; and Ill tell you


Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from


In earnest, its true; I heard a senator speak it.


Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against


whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of


our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set


down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt


prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true,


on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.


Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every


Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but


In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then.


Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy


solemness out o door. and go along with us.


No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish


Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS  LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger


Yonder comes news. A wager they have met.


They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.


No, Ill nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will


For half a hundred years. Summon the town.


Then shall we hear their larum, and they ours.


Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work,


That we with smoking swords may march from hence,


To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast.


They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls


Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls?


No, nor a man that fears you less than he,


Are bringing forth our youth. Well break our walls,


Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates,


Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinnd with rushes;


There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes


Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!


They fear us not, but issue forth their city.


Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight


With hearts more proof than shields. Advance,


They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,


Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows:


He that retires Ill take him for a Volsce,


Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing


All the contagion of the south light on you,


You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues


Plaster you oer, that you may be abhorrd


Further than seen and one infect another


Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,


That bear the shapes of men, how have you run


From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!


All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale


With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home,


Or, by the fires of heaven, Ill leave the foe


And make my wars on you: look tot: come on;


If youll stand fast, well beat them to their wives,


Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates


So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds:


Tis for the followers fortune widens them,


Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.


With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,


Clappd to their gates: he is himself alone,


Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword,


And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius:


Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier


Even to Catos wish, not fierce and terrible


Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and


The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,


Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world


Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy


Lets fetch him off, or make remain alike.


Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet


See here these movers that do prize their hours


At a crackd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,


Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would


Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,


Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them!


And hark, what noise the general makes! To him!


There is the man of my souls hate, Aufidius,


Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take


Convenient numbers to make good the city;


Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste


My work hath yet not warmd me: fare you well:


Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms


Misguide thy opposers swords! Bold gentleman,


Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell.


Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;


Call thither all the officers o the town,


Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers


Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,


Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,


We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck,


By interims and conveying gusts we have heard


The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods!


Lead their successes as we wish our own,


And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:


I saw our party to their trenches driven,


Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums:


How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,


Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel


Three or four miles about, else had I, sir,


That does appear as he were flayd? O gods


[Within]                 Come I too late?


The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour


More than I know the sound of Marcius tongue


Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,


In arms as sound as when I wood, in heart


As merry as when our nuptial day was done,


Condemning some to death, and some to exile;


Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other;


Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,


Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?


He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen,


The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!--


The mouse neer shunnd the cat as they did budge


Will the time serve to tell? I do not think.


Where is the enemy? are you lords o the field?


How lies their battle? know you on which side


Their bands i the vaward are the Antiates,


By all the battles wherein we have fought,


By the blood we have shed together, by the vows


We have made to endure friends, that you directly


Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates;


And that you not delay the present, but,


Filling the air with swords advanced and darts,


And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never


Deny your asking: take your choice of those


That most are willing. If any such be here--


As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting


If any think brave death outweighs bad life


And that his countrys dearer than himself;


They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps


If these shows be not outward, which of you


A shield as hard as his. A certain number,


Shall bear the business in some other fight,


As cause will be obeyd. Please you to march;


And four shall quickly draw out my command,


Make good this ostentation, and you shall


TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon  Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward  COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout


So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,


As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch


Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve


For a short holding: if we lose the field,


Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.


Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS


Ill fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee


More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.


Let the first budger die the others slave,


And made what work I pleased: tis not my blood


Wherein thou seest me maskd; for thy revenge


That was the whip of your braggd progeny,


They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of  AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in breathless


Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me


Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish.  Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf


If I should tell thee oer this thy days work,


Thouldst not believe thy deeds: but Ill report it


Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,


Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,


I the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,


And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the


That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,


Shall say against their hearts We thank the gods


Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast,


Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit


When she does praise me grieves me. I have done


As you have done; thats what I can; induced


The grave of your deserving; Rome must know


The value of her own: twere a concealment


Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,


To hide your doings; and to silence that,


Which, to the spire and top of praises vouchd,


Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you


What you have done--before our army hear me.


I have some wounds upon me, and they smart


Well might they fester gainst ingratitude,


And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,


Whereof we have taen good and good store, of all


The treasure in this field achieved and city,


We render you the tenth, to be taen forth,


But cannot make my heart consent to take


A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;


And stand upon my common part with those


A long flourish. They all cry Marcius! Marcius!  cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare


May these same instruments, which you profane,


Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall


I the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be


When steel grows soft as the parasites silk,


Let him be made a coverture for the wars!


No more, I say! For that I have not washd


My nose that bled, or foild some debile wretch.--


Which, without note, heres many else have done,--


As if I loved my little should be dieted


More cruel to your good report than grateful


To us that give you truly: by your patience,


If gainst yourself you be incensed, well put you,


Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,


Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known,


As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius


Wears this wars garland: in token of the which,


My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,


With all his trim belonging; and from this time,


For what he did before Corioli, call him,


With all the applause and clamour of the host,


And when my face is fair, you shall perceive


Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.


I mean to stride your steed, and at all times


Where, ere we do repose us, we will write


To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,


Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg


At a poor mans house; he used me kindly:


And wrath oerwhelmd my pity: I request you


Were he the butcher of my son, he should


Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.


The blood upon your visage dries; tis time


A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers


Twill be deliverd back on good condition.


Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!


I the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,


I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,


And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter


Hath not that honour int it had; for where


I thought to crush him in an equal force,


True sword to sword, Ill potch at him some way


Bolder, though not so subtle. My valours poisond


With only suffering stain by him; for him


Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,


Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,


The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,


Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up


Their rotten privilege and custom gainst


My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it


At home, upon my brothers guard, even there,


Wash my fierce hand ins heart. Go you to the city;


Learn how tis held; and what they are that must


I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--


Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither


How the world goes, that to the pace of it


Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS.


The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.


Not according to the prayer of the people, for they


Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.


Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the


Hes a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.


Hes a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two


are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.


In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two


Hes poor in no one fault, but stored with all.


This is strange now: do you two know how you are


censured here in the city, I mean of us o the


Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry?


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 Marcius for


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!


Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,


proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as


Menenius, you are known well enough too.


I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that


loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying


Tiber int; 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 cant 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


Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.


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


Come, come, you are well understood to be a


perfecter giber for the table than a necessary


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 botchers


cushion, or to be entombed in an asss pack-


saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius 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.


How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon,


were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow


Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for


Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous


Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo!


Look, heres a letter from him: the state hath


another, his wife another; and, I think, theres one


I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for


Yes, certain, theres a letter for you; I sawt.


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.


O, he is wounded; I thank the gods fort.


So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a


victory in his pocket? the wounds become him.


Ons brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home


Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but


And twas time for him too, Ill 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


thats in them. Is the senate possessed of this?


Good ladies, lets 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


In troth, theres wondrous things spoke of him.


Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his


God save your good worships! Marcius is coming


home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?


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


One i the neck, and two i the thigh,--theres


He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five


Now its twenty-seven: every gash was an enemys grave.


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 advanced, declines, and then men 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


Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight


Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,


With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these


No more of this; it does offend my heart:


You have, I know, petitiond all the gods


What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?--


Wouldst thou have laughd had I come coffind home,


That weepst to see me triumph? Ay, my dear,


I know not where to turn: O, welcome home:


And welcome, general: and yere welcome all.


A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep


And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome.


That is not glad to see thee! You are three


That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men,


Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:


[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA]  Your hand, and yours:


Ere in our own house I do shade my head,


From whom I have received not only greetings,


Theres one thing wanting, which I doubt not but


I had rather be their servant in my way,


Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward


All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights


Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse


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 smotherd up, leads filld, and ridges horsed


In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens


Do press among the popular throngs and puff


Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil


Of Phoebus burning kisses: such a pother


He cannot temperately transport his honours


From where he should begin and end, but will


The commoners, for whom we stand, but they


With the least cause these his new honours, which


That he will give them make I as little question


Were he to stand for consul, never would he


Appear i the market-place nor on him put


Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds


To the people, beg their stinking breaths.


It was his word: O, he would miss it rather


Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him,


Than have him hold that purpose and to put it


It shall be to him then as our good wills,


We must suggest the people in what hatred


He still hath held them; that tos power he would


Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and


Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them,


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


Shall touch the people--which time shall not want,


As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire


To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze


You are sent for to the Capitol. Tis thought


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 passd: the nobles bended,


As to Joves statue, and the commons made


A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts:


And carry with us ears and eyes for the time,


Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand


Three, they say: but tis thought of every one


Thats a brave fellow; but hes vengeance proud, and


Faith, there had been many great men that have


flattered the people, who neer 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


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 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.


He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his


ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who,


having been supple and courteous to the people,


bonneted, without any further deed to have them at


an into their estimation and report: but he hath so


planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions


in their hearts, that for their tongues to be


silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of


ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a


malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck


reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.


No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they


A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS  the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators,  SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their  places; the Tribunes take their Places by themselves. CORIOLANUS stands


As the main point of this our after-meeting,


Hath thus stood for his country: therefore,


Most reverend and grave elders, to desire


We met here both to thank and to remember


Leave nothing out for length, and make us think


Rather our states defective for requital


We do request your kindest ears, and after,


Your loving motion toward the common body,


I would you rather had been silent. Please you


I had rather have my wounds to heal again


When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.


You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but


I had rather have one scratch my head i the sun


When the alarum were struck than idly sit


Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter--


Thats thousand to one good one--when you now see


He had rather venture all his limbs for honour


Than one ons ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius.


I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus


Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years,


When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought


Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator,


Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight,


The bristled lips before him: be bestrid


An oer-pressd Roman and i the consuls view


Slew three opposers: Tarquins self he met,


And struck him on his knee: in that days feats,


When he might act the woman in the scene,


He proved best man i the field, and for his meed


Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age


And in the brunt of seventeen battles since


He lurchd all swords of the garland. For this last,


I cannot speak him home: he stoppd the fliers;


And fell below his stem: his sword, deaths stamp,


Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot


He was a thing of blood, whose every motion


Was timed with dying cries: alone he enterd


The mortal gate of the city, which he painted


With shunless destiny; aidless came off,


When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce


His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit


Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we calld


Both field and city ours, he never stood


He cannot but with measure fit the honours


And lookd upon things precious as they were


The common muck of the world: he covets less


His deeds with doing them, and is content


The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased


Let me oerleap that custom, for I cannot


Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them,


For my wounds sake, to give their suffrage: please you


Must have their voices; neither will they bate


That I shall blush in acting, and might well


To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus;


Show them the unaching scars which I should hide,


We recommend to you, tribunes of the people,


Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul


Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS


You see how he intends to use the people.


May they perceives intent! He will require them,


Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace,


Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.


We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a


power that we have no power to do; for if he show us


his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our


tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if


he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him


our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is


monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful,


were to make a monster of the multitude: of the


which we being members, should bring ourselves to be


And to make us no better thought of, a little help


will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he


himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude.


We have been called so of many; not that our heads


are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald,


but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and


truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of


one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south,


and their consent of one direct way should be at


Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would


Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another mans


will;tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but


if it were at liberty, twould, sure, southward.


To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts


melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return


for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife.


You are never without your tricks: you may, you may.


Are you all resolved to give your voices? But


thats no matter, the greater part carries it. I


say, if he would incline to the people, there was


Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility, with MENENIUS


Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his


behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to


come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and


particulars; wherein every one of us has a single


honour, in giving him our own voices with our own


tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how


O sir, you are not right: have you not known


I Pray, sir--Plague upont! I cannot bring


My tongue to such a pace:--Look, sir, my wounds!


Some certain of your brethren roard and ran


You must not speak of that: you must desire them


I would they would forget me, like the virtues


Ill leave you: pray you, speak to em, I pray you,


You know the cause, air, of my standing here.


We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you tot.


No, sir,twas never my desire yet to trouble the


You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to


Well then, I pray, your price o the consulship?


Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me hat: I have wounds to


show you, which shall be yours in private. Your


A match, sir. Theres in all two worthy voices


An twere to give again,--but tis no matter.


Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your


voices that I may be consul, I have here the


You have deserved nobly of your country, and you


You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have


been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved


You should account me the more virtuous that I have


not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my


sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer


estimation of them; tis a condition they account


gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is


rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise


the insinuating nod and be off to them most


counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the


bewitchment of some popular man and give it


bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you,


We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give


You have received many wounds for your country.


I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I


will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further.


Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.


Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here,


Their needless vouches? Custom calls me tot:


What custom wills, in all things should we dot,


The dust on antique time would lie unswept,


And mountainous error be too highly heapt


For truth to oer-peer. Rather than fool it so,


To one that would do thus. I am half through;


The one part sufferd, the other will I do.


Your voices: for your voices I have fought;


Watchd for your voices; for Your voices bear


Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six


I have seen and heard of; for your voices have


Done many things, some less, some more your voices:


He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest


Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy,


Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul!


Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS


You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes


Endue you with the peoples voice: remains


That, in the official marks invested, you


The custom of request you have discharged:


The people do admit you, and are summond


That Ill straight do; and, knowing myself again,


With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds.


How now, my masters! have you chose this man?


We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.


No,tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us.


Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says


He used us scornfully: he should have showd us


His marks of merit, wounds received fors country.


He said he had wounds, which he could show


And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn,


I would be consul, says he: aged custom,


But by your voices, will not so permit me;


Your voices therefore. When we granted that,


Here was I thank you for your voices: thank you:


Your most sweet voices: now you have left


I have no further with you. Was not this mockery?


Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness


As you were lessond, when he had no power,


Your liberties and the charters that you bear


I the body of the weal; and now, arriving


A place of potency and sway o the state,


Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might


Be curses to yourselves? You should have said


That as his worthy deeds did claim no less


Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature


Would think upon you for your voices and


Translate his malice towards you into love,


As you were fore-advised, had touchd his spirit


And tried his inclination; from him pluckd


Either his gracious promise, which you might,


As cause had calld you up, have held him to


Or else it would have galld his surly nature,


Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage,


You should have taen the advantage of his choler


When he did need your loves, and do you think


That his contempt shall not be bruising to you,


When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies


No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry


Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow


Ill have five hundred voices of that sound.


I twice five hundred and their friends to piece em.


Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends,


They have chose a consul that will from them take


Their liberties; make them of no more voice


Than dogs that are as often beat for barking


Your ignorant election; enforce his pride,


And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not


With what contempt he wore the humble weed,


How in his suit he scornd you; but your loves,


Thinking upon his services, took from you


The apprehension of his present portance,


Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion


A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured,


No impediment between, but that you must


More after our commandment than as guided


By your own true affections, and that your minds,


Preoccupied with what you rather must do


Than what you should, made you against the grain


To voice him consul: lay the fault on us.


Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you.


How youngly he began to serve his country,


How long continued, and what stock he springs of,


The noble house o the Marcians, from whence came


That Ancus Marcius, Numas daughters son,


Who, after great Hostilius, here was king;


Of the same house Publius and Quintus were,


That our beat water brought by conduits hither;


Twice being  [by the people chosen]  censor,


That hath beside well in his person wrought


To your remembrances: but you have found,


Scaling his present bearing with his past,


Harp on that still--but by our putting on;


And presently, when you have drawn your number,


With their refusal, both observe and answer


We will be there before the stream o the people;


And this shall seem, as partly tis, their own,


Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators


He had, my lord; and that it was which caused


So then the Volsces stand but as at first,


Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road.


On safe-guard he  came to me; and did curse


Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely


Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium.


How often he had met you, sword to sword;


That of all things upon the earth he hated


Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes


To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.


Behold, these are the tribunes of the people,


The tongues o the common mouth: I do despise them;


It will be dangerous to go on: no further.


Hath he not passd the noble and the common?


Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place.


Must these have voices, that can yield them now


And straight disclaim their tongues? What are


You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?


It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot,


Suffert, and live with such as cannot rule


The people cry you mockd them, and of late,


When corn was given them gratis, you repined;


Scandald the suppliants for the people, calld them


Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.


Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,


Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me


For which the people stir: if you will pass


To where you are bound, you must inquire your way,


Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,


The people are abused; set on. This paltering


Deserved this so dishonourd rub, laid falsely


This was my speech, and I will speakt again--


Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends,


For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them


In soothing them, we nourish gainst our senate


The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,


Which we ourselves have ploughd for, sowd,


By mingling them with us, the honourd number,


Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that


Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs


Coin words till their decay against those measles,


Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought


Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,


Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you


You grave but reckless senators, have you thus


That with his peremptory shall, being but


The horn and noise o the monsters, wants not spirit


To say hell turn your current in a ditch,


And make your channel his? If he have power


Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake


Your dangerous lenity. If you are learnd,


Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,


If they be senators: and they are no less,


When, both your voices blended, the greatst taste


Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate,


And such a one as he, who puts his shall,


His popular shall against a graver bench


Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself!


It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches


May enter twixt the gap of both and take


Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth


The corn o the storehouse gratis, as twas used


Though there the people had more absolute power,


More worthier than their voices. They know the corn


Was not our recompense, resting well assured


That neer did service fort: being pressd to the war,


Even when the navel of the state was touchd,


They would not thread the gates. This kind of service


Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i the war


Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they showd


Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation


Which they have often made against the senate,


All cause unborn, could never be the motive


Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?


Whats like to be their words: we did request it;


We are the greater poll, and in true fear


They gave us our demands. Thus we debase


The nature of our seats and make the rabble


Call our cares fears; which will in time


Break ope the locks o the senate and bring in


What may be sworn by, both divine and human,


Seal what I end withal! This double worship,


Where one part does disdain with cause, the other


Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom,


Real necessities, and give way the while


To unstable slightness: purpose so barrd,


Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,--


You that will be less fearful than discreet,


More than you doubt the change ont, that prefer


Thats sure of death without it, at once pluck out


The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick


The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour


Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state


Not having the power to do the good it would,


Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer


What should the people do with these bald tribunes?


On whom depending, their obedience fails


When whats not meet, but what must be, was law,


Then were they chosen: in a better hour,


Let what is meet be said it must be meet,


A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee,


Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones


Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the AEdiles


Heres he that would take from you all your power.


Senators,  and CWeapons, weapons, weapons!


They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying


Tribunes! Patricians! Citizens! What, ho!


What is about to be? I am out of breath;


Confusions near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes


Lets hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.


You are at point to lose your liberties:


Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,


This is the way to kindle, not to quench.


To unbuild the city and to lay all flat.


By the consent of all, we were establishd


And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,


Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce,


Upon the part o the people, in whose power


We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy


Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence


Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.


[To BRUTUS]  Be that you seem, truly your


And temperately proceed to what you would


That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous


Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him,


Theres some among you have beheld me fighting:


Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.


Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile.


You that be noble; help him, young and old!


In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the People, are beat in


Go, get you to your house; be gone, away!


I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;


You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you.


I would they were barbarians--as they are,


Though in Rome litterd--not Romans--as they are not,


Though calved i the porch o the Capitol--


Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;


Take up a brace o the best of them; yea, the


And manhood is calld foolery, when it stands


Against a falling fabric. Will you hence,


Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend


Ill try whether my old wit be in request


With those that have but little: this must be patchd


He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,


Or Jove fors power to thunder. His hearts his mouth:


What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;


I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!


Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble


He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock


With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,


And therefore law shall scorn him further trial


The noble tribunes are the peoples mouths,


Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt


If, by the tribunes leave, and yours, good people,


I may be heard, I would crave a word or two;


The which shall turn you to no further harm


This viperous traitor: to eject him hence


Were but one danger, and to keep him here


Our certain death: therefore it is decreed


Towards her deserved children is enrolld


In Joves own book, like an unnatural dam


Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.


What has he done to Rome thats worthy death?


Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost--


Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,


By many an ounce--he droppd it for his country;


And what is left, to lose it by his country,


Merely awry: when he did love his country,


Being once gangrened, is not then respected


Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence:


Lest his infection, being of catching nature,


This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find


The harm of unscannd swiftness, will too late


Tie leaden pounds tos heels. Proceed by process;


Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out,


Have we not had a taste of his obedience?


Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come.


Consider this: he has been bred i the wars


Since he could draw a sword, and is ill schoold


In bolted language; meal and bran together


He throws without distinction. Give me leave,


Ill go to him, and undertake to bring him


Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,


Will prove too bloody, and the end of it


Meet on the market-place. Well attend you there:


Where, if you bring not Marcius, well proceed


Let me desire your company: he must come,


Let them puff all about mine ears, present me


Death on the wheel or at wild horses heels,


That the precipitation might down stretch


Below the beam of sight, yet will I still


Does not approve me further, who was wont


To call them woollen vassals, things created


To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads


In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder,


Why did you wish me milder? would you have me


I would have had you put your power well on,


You might have been enough the man you are,


With striving less to be so; lesser had been


You had not showd them how ye were disposed


Come, come, you have been too rough, something


But yet a brain that leads my use of anger


Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that


The violent fit o the time craves it as physic


For the whole state, I would put mine armour on,


Though therein you can never be too noble,


But when extremities speak. I have heard you say,


Honour and policy, like unseverd friends,


I the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me,


In peace what each of them by the other lose,


The same you are not, which, for your best ends,


You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse,


That it shall hold companionship in peace


With honour, as in war, since that to both


Because that now it lies you on to speak


To the people; not by your own instruction,


Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,


But with such words that are but rooted in


Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables


Than to take in a town with gentle words,


Which else would put you to your fortune and


My fortunes and my friends at stake required


Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;


And you will rather show our general louts


How you can frown than spend a fawn upon em,


For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard


Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so,


Not what is dangerous present, but the loss


Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;


And thus far having stretchd it--here be with them--


Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business


Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant


More learned than the ears--waving thy head,


Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,


That will not hold the handling: or say to them,


Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils


Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,


Were fit for thee to use as they to claim,


In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame


Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far


Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;


For they have pardons, being askd, as free


Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather


Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.


I have been i the market-place; and, sir,tis fit


You make strong party, or defend yourself


By calmness or by absence: alls in anger.


Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.


Must I with base tongue give my noble heart


A lie that it must bear? Well, I will dot:


Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,


This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it


And throwt against the wind. To the market-place!


You have put me now to such a part which never


I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said


My praises made thee first a soldier, so,


To have my praise for this, perform a part


Some harlots spirit! my throat of war be turnd,


That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves


Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys tears take up


The glasses of my sight! a beggars tongue


Make motion through my lips, and my armd knees,


Who bowd but in my stirrup, bend like his


That hath received an alms! I will not dot,


Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth


Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let


Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear


Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death


With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list


Thy valiantness was mine, thou suckdst it from me,


Chide me no more. Ill mountebank their loves,


Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved


Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going:


Commend me to my wife. Ill return consul;


Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself


With accusations, as I hear, more strong


The word is mildly. Pray you, let us go:


In this point charge him home, that he affects


Enforce him with his envy to the people,


And when they bear me say It shall be so


I the right and strength o the commons, be it either


For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them


If I say fine, cry Fine; if death, cry Death.


And when such time they have begun to cry,


Let them not cease, but with a din confused


Make them be strong and ready for this hint,


Put him to choler straight: he hath been used


Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot


Be reind again to temperance; then he speaks


Whats in his heart; and that is there which looks


Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with Senators and Patricians


Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece


Will bear the knave by the volume. The honourd gods


Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice


Supplied with worthy men! plant love among s!


Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,


List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say!


Shall I be charged no further than this present?


If you submit you to the peoples voices,


To suffer lawful censure for such faults


The warlike service he has done, consider; think


Upon the wounds his body bears, which show


You find him like a soldier: do not take


His rougher accents for malicious sounds,


But, as I say, such as become a soldier,


That being passd for consul with full voice,


We charge you, that you have contrived to take


From Rome all seasond office and to wind


For which you are a traitor to the people.


The fires i the lowest hell fold-in the people!


Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!


Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,


In thy hand clutchd as many millions, in


Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say


Thou liest unto thee with a voice as free


We need not put new matter to his charge:


What you have seen him do and heard him speak,


Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,


Opposing laws with strokes and here defying


Those whose great power must try him; even this,


Is this the promise that you made your mother?


Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,


Their mercy at the price of one fair word;


Nor cheque my courage for what they can give,


As much as in him lies, from time to time


Envied against the people, seeking means


To pluck away their power, as now at last


Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence


Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers


That do distribute it; in the name o the people


And in the power of us the tribunes, we,


Even from this instant, banish him our city,


To enter our Rome gates: i the peoples name,


It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away:


Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,--


I have been consul, and can show for Rome


My countrys good with a respect more tender,


More holy and profound, than mine own life,


My dear wifes estimate, her wombs increase,


And treasure of my loins; then if I would


Theres no more to be said, but he is banishd,


You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate


As reek o the rotten fens, whose loves I prize


Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!


Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,


Fan you into despair! Have the power still


To banish your defenders; till at length


Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,


Still your own foes, deliver you as most


Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians


Our enemy is banishd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo!


Go, see him out at gates, and follow him,


As he hath followed you, with all despite;


Come, come; lets see him out at gates; come.


The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.


SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the city.


Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome


Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast


With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,


Where is your ancient courage? you were used


To say extremity was the trier of spirits;


That common chances common men could bear;


That when the sea was calm all boats alike


Showd mastership in floating; fortunes blows,


When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves


A noble cunning: you were used to load me


With precepts that would make invincible


Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,


I shall be loved when I am lackd. Nay, mother.


Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say,


Six of his labours yould have done, and saved


Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother:


Ill do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,


Thy tears are salter than a younger mans,


And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general,


I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld


Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women


As tis to laugh at em. My mother, you wot well


My hazards still have been your solace: and


Believet not lightly--though I go alone,


Makes feard and talkd of more than seen--your son


Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius


With thee awhile: determine on some course,


More than a wild exposture to each chance


Ill follow thee a month, devise with thee


Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us


And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth


A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send


Oer the vast world to seek a single man,


And lose advantage, which doth ever cool


Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full


Of the wars surfeits, to go rove with one


Thats yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate.


Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and


My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,


Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come.


While I remain above the ground, you shall


Hear from me still, and never of me aught


As any ear can hear. Come, lets not weep.


If I could shake off but one seven years


From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,


SCENE II. The same. A  street near the gate.


Bid them all home; hes gone, and well no further.


The nobility are vexd, whom we see have sided


They have taen note of us: keep on your way.


O, yere well met: the hoarded plague o the gods


If that I could for weeping, you should hear,--


[To SICINIUS]  You shall stay too: I would I had the power


Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool.


Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship


To banish him that struck more blows for Rome


More noble blows than ever thou wise words;


And for Romes good. Ill tell thee what; yet go:


Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son


Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,


Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!


I would he had! Twas you incensed the rabble:


Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth


As I can of those mysteries which heaven


You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:--


The meanest house in Rome, so far my son--


This ladys husband here, this, do you see--


Whom you have banishd, does exceed you all.


But to confirm my curses! Could I meet em


But once a-day, it would unclog my heart


And, by my troth, you have cause. Youll sup with me?


And so shall starve with feeding. Come, lets go:


Leave this faint puling and lament as I do,


SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium.


It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you.


as you are, against em: know you me yet?


You had more beard when I last saw you; but your


favour is well approved by your tongue. Whats the


news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state,


to find you out there: you have well saved me a


There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the


people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.


Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not


so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and


hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.


The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing


would make it flame again: for the nobles receive


so to heart the banishment of that worthy


Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take


all power from the people and to pluck from them


their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can


tell you, and is almost mature for the violent


You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.


The day serves well for them now. I have heard it


said, the fittest time to corrupt a mans wife is


when shes fallen out with her husband. Your noble


Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his


great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request


He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus


accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my


business, and I will merrily accompany you home.


I shall, between this and supper, tell you most


strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of


their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you?


A most royal one; the centurions and their charges,


distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment,


I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the


man, I think, that shall set them in present action.


So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company.


You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause


SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidiuss house.


Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised and muffled


Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir


Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not,


Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones


Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium?


He is, and feasts the nobles of the state


O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,


Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,


Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,


Are still together, who twin, as twere, in love


Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep,


To take the one the other, by some chance,


Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends


My birth-place hate I, and my loves upon


This enemy town. Ill enter: if he slay me,


He does fair justice; if he give me way,


SCENE V. The same. A hall in Aufidiuss house.


is here! I think our fellows are asleep.


A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I


What would you have, friend? whence are you?


Heres no place for you: pray, go to the door.


I have deserved no better entertainment,


Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his


head; that he gives entrance to such companions?


Are you so brave? Ill have you talked with anon.


Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him


A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him


out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.


What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid


Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.


Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other


station; heres no place for you; pray you, avoid: come.


Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.


What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a


I the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is!


Ay; tis an honester service than to meddle with thy


mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy


Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman


Here, sir: Ild have beaten him like a dog, but for


Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name?


Why speakst not? speak, man: whats thy name?


Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not


Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face


Bears a command int; though thy tackles torn.


Thou showst a noble vessel: whats thy name?


To thee particularly and to all the Volsces


Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may


My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service,


The extreme dangers and the drops of blood


Shed for my thankless country are requited


And witness of the malice and displeasure


Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains;


Have all forsook me, hath devourd the rest;


And sufferd me by the voice of slaves to be


Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope--


I had feard death, of all the men i the world


I would have voided thee, but in mere spite,


Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast


A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge


Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims


Of shame seen through thy country, speed


And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it


Against my cankerd country with the spleen


Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes


Thourt tired, then, in a word, I also am


My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;


Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,


Since I have ever followd thee with hate,


Drawn tuns of blood out of thy countrys breast,


And cannot live but to thy shame, unless


Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart


Should from yond cloud speak divine things,


And say Tis true, Ild not believe them more


Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine


Mine arms about that body, where against


My grained ash an hundred times hath broke


And scarrd the moon with splinters: here I clip


Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,


Sighd truer breath; but that I see thee here,


Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart


Than when I first my wedded mistress saw


Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee,


We have a power on foot; and I had purpose


Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,


Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out


Twelve several times, and I have nightly since


Dreamt of encounters twixt thyself and me;


Unbuckling helms, fisting each others throat,


And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,


Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that


Thou art thence banishd, we would muster all


Like a bold flood oer-bear. O, come, go in,


And take our friendly senators by the hands;


Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,


Who am prepared against your territories,


Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have


The one half of my commission; and set down--


As best thou art experienced, since thou knowst


Thy countrys strength and weakness,--thine own ways;


Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,


To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:


Let me commend thee first to those that shall


Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!


Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome!


Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two Servingmen come forward


By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with


a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a


What an arm he has! he turned me about with his


finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.


Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in


him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I


He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged,


but I thought there was more in him than I could think.


So did I, Ill be sworn: he is simply the rarest


I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on.


Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the


Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that:


for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.


O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!


I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as


Why, heres he that was wont to thwack our general,


I do not say thwack our general; but he was always


Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too


hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.


He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth


ont: before Corioli he scotched him and notched


An he had been cannibally given, he might have


Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son


and heir to Mars; set at upper end o the table; no


question asked him by any of the senators, but they


stand bald before him: our general himself makes a


mistress of him: sanctifies himself withs hand and


turns up the white o the eye to his discourse. But


the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i


the middle and but one half of what he was


yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty


and grant of the whole table. Hell go, he says,


and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he


will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled.


And hes as like to dot as any man I can imagine.


Dot! he will dot; for, look you, sir, he has as


many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it


were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as


we term it, his friends whilst hes in directitude.


But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again,


and the man in blood, they will out of their


burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with


To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the


drum struck up this afternoon: tis, as it were, a


parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they


Why, then we shall have a stirring world again.


This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase


Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as


day does night; its spritely, waking, audible, and


full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy;


mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more


bastard children than wars a destroyer of men.


Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to


be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a


Reason; because they then less need one another.


The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap


as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising.


We hear not of him, neither need we fear him;


His remedies are tame i the present peace


And quietness of the people, which before


Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends


Blush that the world goes well, who rather had,


Though they themselves did suffer byt, behold


Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see


Our tradesmen with in their shops and going


Tis he,tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.


Is not much missd, but with his friends:


The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do,


Alls well; and might have been much better, if


Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife


Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees,


Farewell, kind neighbours: we wishd Coriolanus


Than when these fellows ran about the streets,


A worthy officer i the war; but insolent,


Oercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,


We should by this, to all our lamentation,


If he had gone forth consul, found it so.


The gods have well prevented it, and Rome


There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,


Reports, the Volsces with two several powers


Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;


Which were inshelld when Marcius stood for Rome,


Go see this rumourer whippd. It cannot be


And three examples of the like have been


Within my age. But reason with the fellow,


Before you punish him, where he heard this,


Lest you shall chance to whip your information


The nobles in great earnestness are going


All to the senate-house: some news is come


Go whip him, fore the peoples eyes:--his raising;


The slaves report is seconded; and more,


How probable I do not know--that Marcius,


Joind with Aufidius, leads a power gainst Rome,


Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish


Oerborne their way, consumed with fire, and took


You have holp to ravish your own daughters and


To see your wives dishonourd to your noses,--


Your temples burned in their cement, and


Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined


You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?--


If Marcius should be joind with Volscians,--


He is their god: he leads them like a thing


That shapes man better; and they follow him,


Against us brats, with no less confidence


You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much


Before you find it other. All the regions


And perish constant fools. Who ist can blame him?


Your enemies and his find something in him.


The tribunes cannot dot for shame; the people


Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they


Should say Be good to Rome, they charged him even


As those should do that had deserved his hate,


If he were putting to my house the brand


That should consume it, I have not the face


To say Beseech you, cease. You have made fair hands,


You and your crafts! you have crafted fair!


A trembling upon Rome, such as was never


How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts


And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,


Theyll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,


The second name of men, obeys his points


Is all the policy, strength and defence,


That made the air unwholesome, when you cast


Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs


As you threw caps up will he tumble down,


And pay you for your voices. Tis no matter;


When I said, banish him, I said twas pity.


And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very


many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and


though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet


Good work, you and your cry! Shalls to the Capitol?


Go, masters, get you home; be not dismayd:


These are a side that would be glad to have


This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,


The gods be good to us! Come, masters, lets home.


I ever said we were i the wrong when we banished


Lets to the Capitol. Would half my wealth


SCENE VII. A camp, at a small distance from Rome.


I do not know what witchcrafts in him, but


Your soldiers use him as the grace fore meat,


Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;


And you are darkend in this action, sir,


Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,


Even to my person, than I thought he would


When first I did embrace him: yet his nature


In thats no changeling; and I must excuse


I mean for your particular,--you had not


Joind in commission with him; but either


Had borne the action of yourself, or else


I understand thee well; and be thou sure,


when he shall come to his account, he knows not


What I can urge against him. Although it seems,


And so he thinks, and is no less apparent


To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly.


And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,


Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon


As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone


That which shall break his neck or hazard mine,


Sir, I beseech you, think you hell carry Rome?


All places yield to him ere he sits down;


The senators and patricians love him too:


The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people


To expel him thence. I think hell be to Rome


As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it


A noble servant to them; but he could not


Carry his honours even: whether twas pride,


The happy man; whether defect of judgment,


To fail in the disposing of those chances


Which he was lord of; or whether nature,


Not to be other than one thing, not moving


From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace


As he controlld the war; but one of these--


For I dare so far free him--made him feard,


So hated, and so banishd: but he has a merit,


To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues


And power, unto itself most commendable,


One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;


Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.


Come, lets away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,


Thou art poorst of all; then shortly art thou mine.


Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others


No, Ill not go: you hear what he hath said


Which was sometime his general; who loved him


In a most dear particular. He calld me father:


But what o that? Go, you that banishd him;


A mile before his tent fall down, and knee