The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Chapter 87

SCENE VI. Rome. A public placeEnter the two Tribunes, SICINIUS and BRUTUS

SICINIUS. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him.

His remedies are tame. The present peace

And quietness of the people, which before

Were in wild hurry, here do make his friends

Blush that the world goes well; who rather had,

Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold

Dissentious numbers pest'ring streets than see

Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going

About their functions friendly.

Enter MENENIUS

BRUTUS. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?

SICINIUS. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind

Of late. Hail, sir!

MENENIUS. Hail to you both!

SICINIUS. Your Coriolanus is not much miss'd

But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand,

And so would do, were he more angry at it.

MENENIUS. All's well, and might have been much better

He could have temporiz'd.

SICINIUS. Where is he, hear you?

MENENIUS. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife

Hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four citizens

CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both!

SICINIUS. God-den, our neighbours.

BRUTUS. God-den to you all, god-den to you an.

FIRST CITIZEN. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees

Are bound to pray for you both.

SICINIUS. Live and thrive!

BRUTUS. Farewell, kind neighbours; we wish'd Coriolanus

Had lov'd you as we did.

CITIZENS. Now the gods keep you!

BOTH TRIBUNES. Farewell, farewell. Exeunt citizens

SICINIUS. This is a happier and more comely time

Than when these fellows ran about the streets

Crying confusion.

BRUTUS. Caius Marcius was

A worthy officer i' the war, but insolent,

O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,

Self-loving-

SICINIUS. And affecting one sole throne,

Without assistance.

MENENIUS. I think not so.

SICINIUS. We should by this, to all our lamentation,

If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

BRUTUS. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome

Sits safe and still without him.

Enter an AEDILE

AEDILE. Worthy tribunes,

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

Reports the Volsces with several powers

Are ent'red in the Roman territories,

And with the deepest malice of the war

Destroy what lies before 'em.

MENENIUS. 'Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,

Thrusts forth his horns again into the world,

Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,

And durst not once peep out.

SICINIUS. Come, what talk you of Marcius?

BRUTUS. Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be

The Volsces dare break with us.

MENENIUS. Cannot be!

We have record that very well it can;

And three examples of the like hath 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

And beat the messenger who bids beware

Of what is to be dreaded.

SICINIUS. Tell not me.

I know this cannot be.

BRUTUS. Not Possible.

Enter A MESSENGER

MESSENGER. The nobles in great earnestness are going

All to the Senate House; some news is come

That turns their countenances.

SICINIUS. 'Tis this slave-

Go whip him fore the people's eyes- his raising,

Nothing but his report.

MESSENGER. Yes, worthy sir,

The slave's report is seconded, and more,

More fearful, is deliver'd.

SICINIUS. What more fearful?

MESSENGER. It is spoke freely out of many mouths-

How probable I do not know- that Marcius,

Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,

And vows revenge as spacious as between

The young'st and oldest thing.

SICINIUS. This is most likely!

BRUTUS. Rais'd only that the weaker sort may wish

Good Marcius home again.

SICINIUS. The very trick on 't.

MENENIUS. This is unlikely.

He and Aufidius can no more atone

Than violent'st contrariety.

Enter a second MESSENGER

SECOND MESSENGER. You are sent for to the Senate.

A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius

Associated with Aufidius, rages

Upon our territories, and have already

O'erborne their way, consum'd with fire and took

What lay before them.

Enter COMINIUS

COMINIUS. O, you have made good work!

MENENIUS. What news? what news?

COMINIUS. You have holp to ravish your own daughters and

To melt the city leads upon your pates,

To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses-

MENENIUS. What's the news? What's the news?

COMINIUS. Your temples burned in their cement, and

Your franchises, whereon you stood, confin'd

Into an auger's bore.

MENENIUS. Pray now, your news?

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

If Marcius should be join'd wi' th' Volscians-

COMINIUS. If!

He is their god; he leads them like a thing

Made by some other deity than Nature,

That shapes man better; and they follow him

Against us brats with no less confidence

Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,

Or butchers killing flies.

MENENIUS. You have made good work,

You and your apron men; you that stood so much

Upon the voice of occupation and

The breath of garlic-eaters!

COMINIUS. He'll shake

Your Rome about your ears.

MENENIUS. As Hercules

Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made fair work!

BRUTUS. But is this true, sir?

COMINIUS. Ay; and you'll look pale

Before you find it other. All the regions

Do smilingly revolt, and who resists

Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,

And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?

Your enemies and his find something in him.

MENENIUS. We are all undone unless

The noble man have mercy.

COMINIUS. Who shall ask it?

The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people

Deserve such pity of him as the wolf

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

Should say 'Be good to Rome'- they charg'd him even

As those should do that had deserv'd his hate,

And therein show'd fike enemies.

MENENIUS. 'Tis true;

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!

COMINIUS. You have brought

A trembling upon Rome, such as was never

S' incapable of help.

BOTH TRIBUNES. Say not we brought it.

MENENIUS. How! Was't we? We lov'd him, but, like beasts

And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,

Who did hoot him out o' th' city.

COMINIUS. But I fear

They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,

The second name of men, obeys his points

As if he were his officer. Desperation

Is all the policy, strength, and defence,

That Rome can make against them.

Enter a troop of citizens

MENENIUS. Here comes the clusters.

And is Aufidius with him? You are they

That made the air unwholesome when you cast

Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at

Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming,

And not a hair upon a soldier's head

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;

If he could burn us all into one coal

We have deserv'd it.

PLEBEIANS. Faith, we hear fearful news.

FIRST CITIZEN. For mine own part,

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

SECOND CITIZEN. And so did I.

THIRD CITIZEN. 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 it was against our

will.

COMINIUS. Y'are goodly things, you voices!

MENENIUS. You have made

Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol?

COMINIUS. O, ay, what else?

Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS

SICINIUS. Go, masters, get you be not dismay'd;

These are a side that would be glad to have

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

And show no sign of fear.

FIRST CITIZEN. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. I

ever said we were i' th' wrong when we banish'd him.

SECOND CITIZEN. So did we all. But come, let's home.

Exeunt citizens

BRUTUS. I do not like this news.

SICINIUS. Nor I.

BRUTUS. Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth

Would buy this for a lie!

SICINIUS. Pray let's go. Exeunt

SCENE VII. A camp at a short distance from RomeEnter AUFIDIUS with his LIEUTENANT

AUFIDIUS. Do they still fly to th' Roman?

LIEUTENANT. I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but

Your soldiers use him as the grace fore meat,

Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;

And you are dark'ned in this action, sir,

Even by your own.

AUFIDIUS. I cannot help it now,

Unless by using means I lame the foot

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 that's no changeling, and I must excuse

What cannot be amended.

LIEUTENANT. Yet I wish, sir-

I mean, for your particular- you had not

Join'd in commission with him, but either

Had borne the action of yourself, or else

To him had left it solely.

AUFIDIUS. 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 th' 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

Whene'er we come to our account.

LIEUTENANT. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?

AUFIDIUS. All places yield to him ere he sits down,

And the nobility of Rome are his;

The senators and patricians love him too.

The tribunes are no soldiers, and their people

Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty

To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome

As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it

By sovereignty of nature. First he was

A noble servant to them, but he could not

Carry his honours even. Whether 'twas pride,

Which out of daily fortune ever taints

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 th' casque to th' cushion, but commanding peace

Even with the same austerity and garb

As he controll'd the war; but one of these-

As he hath spices of them all- not all,

For I dare so far free him- made him fear'd,

So hated, and so banish'd. But he has a merit

To choke it in the utt'rance. So our virtues

Lie in th' interpretation of the time;

And power, unto itself most commendable,

Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair

T' extol what it hath done.

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

Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.

Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,

Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.

Exeunt