AUFIDIUS You keep a constant temper.

Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius

FIRST WATCHMAN Now, sir, is your name Menenius?

SECOND WATCHMAN ’Tis a spell, you see, of much power.

You know the way home again.

FIRST WATCHMAN Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back?

SECOND WATCHMAN What cause do you think I have to swoon?

MENENIUS I neither care for th’ world nor your general. For such things as you, I can scarce think there’s any, you’re so slight. He that hath a will to die by himself fears it not from another. Let your general do his worst. For you, be that you are long, and your misery increase with your age. I say to you as I was said to, ‘Away!’

Exit

FIRST WATCHMAN A noble fellow, I warrant him.

SECOND WATCHMAN The worthy fellow is our general. He’s the rock, the oak, not to be wind-shaken. Exeunt

5.3 Enter Coriolanus and Aufidius, with Volscian soldiers. ⌈Coriolanus and Aufidius sit⌉

CORIOLANUS

We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow

Set down our host. My partner in this action,

You must report to th’ Volscian lords how plainly

I have borne this business.

AUFIDIUS

Only their ends

You have respected, stopped your ears against

The general suit of Rome, never admitted

A private whisper, no, not with such friends

That thought them sure of you.

CORIOLANUS

This last old man,

Whom with a cracked heart I have sent to Rome,

Loved me above the measure of a father,

Nay, godded me indeed. Their latest refuge

Was to send him, for whose old love I have—

Though I showed sourly to him—once more offered

The first conditions, which they did refuse

And cannot now accept, to grace him only

That thought he could do more. A very little

I have yielded to. Fresh embassies and suits,

Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter

Will I lend ear to.

Shout within

Ha, what shout is this?

Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow

In the same time ’tis made? I will not.

Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, Young Martius, with attendants

My wife comes foremost, then the honoured mould

Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand

The grandchild to her blood. But out, affection!

All bond and privilege of nature break;

Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.

⌈Virgilia⌉ curtsies

What is that curtsy worth? Or those dove’s eyes

Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not

Of stronger earth than others.

Volumnia bows

My mother bows,

As if Olympus to a molehill should

In supplication nod; and my young boy

Hath an aspect of intercession which

Great nature cries ‘Deny not’.—Let the Volsces

Plough Rome and harrow Italy! I’ll never

Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand

As if a man were author of himself

And knew no other kin.

VIRGILIA My lord and husband.

CORIOLANUS

These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.

VIRGILIA

The sorrow that delivers us thus changed

Makes you think so.

CORIOLANUS

Like a dull actor now

I have forgot my part, and I am out

Even to a full disgrace. FRisingl Best of my flesh,

Forgive my tyranny, but do not say

For that ‘Forgive our Romans’.

⌈viraiha kisses him⌉

O, a kiss

Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!

Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss

I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip

Hath virgined it e‘er since. You gods, I prate,

And the most noble mother of the world

Leave unsaluted! Sink, my knee, i’th’ earth.

He kneels

Of thy deep duty more impression show

Than that of common sons.

VOLUMNIA O, stand up blest,

⌈Coriolanus rises⌉

Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint

I kneel before thee, and unproperly

Show duty as mistaken all this while

Between the child and parent.

She kneels

CORIOLANUS What’s this?

Your knees to me? To your corrected son?

⌈He raises her⌉

Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach

Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds

Strike the proud cedars ‘gainst the fiery sun,

Murd’ring impossibility to make

What cannot be slight work.

VOLUMNIA Thou art my warrior.

I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?

CORIOLANUS

The noble sister of Publicola,

The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle

That’s candied by the frost from purest snow

And hangs on Dian’s temple—dear Valeria!

VOLUMNIA (showing Coriolanus his son)

This is a poor epitome of yours,

Which by th’ interpretation of full time

May show like all yourself.

CORIOLANUS (to Young Martius) The god of soldiers,

With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst prove

To shame unvulnerable, and stick i’th’ wars

Like a great sea-mark standing every flaw

And saving those that eye thee!

VOLUMNIA (to Young Martius) Your knee, sirrah.

⌈Young Martius kneels⌉

CORIOLANUS That’s my brave boy.

VOLUMNIA

Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself

Are suitors to you.

CORIOLANUS I beseech you, peace.

Or if you’d ask, remember this before:

The things I have forsworn to grant may never

Be held by you denials. Do not bid me

Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome’s mechanics. Tell me not