The Tragedy of Coriolanus — Act 2 Scene 1

Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of thepeople, Sicinius & Brutus.

Men.The Agurer tels me, wee shall haue Newes to night.

Bru.Good or bad?

Men.Not according to the prayer of the people, forthey loue not Martius.

Sicin.Nature teaches Beasts to know their Friends.

Men.Pray you, who does the Wolfe loue?

Sicin.The Lambe.

Men.I, to deuour him, as the hungry Plebeians wouldthe Noble Martius.

Bru.He's a Lambe indeed, that baes like a Beare.

Men.Hee's a Beare indeede, that liues like a Lambe.You two are old men, tell me one thing that I shall aske you.

Both.Well sir.

Men.In what enormity is Martius poore in, that youtwo haue not in abundance?

Bru.He's poore in no one fault, but stor'd withal.

Sicin.Especially in Pride.

Bru.And topping all others in boasting.

Men.This is strange now: Do you two know, howyou are censured heere in the City, I mean of vs a'th'righthand File, do you?

Both.Why? how are we censur'd?

Men.Because you talke of Pride now, will you not be angry.

Both.Well, well sir, well.

Men.Why 'tis no great matter: for a very little theefeof Occasion, will rob you of a great deale of Patience:Giue your dispositions the reines, and bee angry at yourpleasures (at the least) if you take it as a pleasure to you, inbeing so: you blame Martius for being proud.

Brut.We do it not alone, sir.

Men.I know you can doe very little alone, for yourhelpes are many, or else your actions would growe wondrous single: your abilities are to Infant-like, for doingmuch alone. You talke of Pride: Oh, that you could turnyour eyes toward the Napes of your neckes, and makebut an Interiour suruey of your good selues. Oh that youcould.

Both.What then sir?

Men.Why then you should discouer a brace of vnmeriting, proud, violent, testie Magistrates (alias Fooles)as any in Rome.

Sicin.Menenius, you are knowne well enough too.

Men.I am knowne to be a humorous Patritian, and one thatloues a cup of hot Wine, with not a drop of alayingTiber in't: Said, to be something imperfect in fauouringthe first complaint, hasty and Tinder-like vppon, totriuiall motion: One, that conuerses more with the Buttockeof the night, then with the forhead of the morning.What I think, I vtter, and spend my malice in my breath.Meeting two such Weales men as you are (I cannot callyou Licurgusses,) if the drinke you giue me, touch myPalat aduersly, I make a crooked face at it, I can say, yourWorshippes haue deliuer'd the matter well, when I findethe Asse in compound, with the Maior part of your syllables.And though I must be content to beare with those,that say you are reuerend graue men, yet they lye deadly,that tell you haue good faces, if you see this in the Mapof my Microcosme, followes it that I am knowne wellenough too? What harme can your beesome Conspectuitiesgleane out of this Charracter, if I be knowne wellenough too.

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

Menen.You know neither mee, your selues, nor anything: you are ambitious, for poore knaues cappes andlegges: you weare out a good wholesome Forenoone, inhearing a cause betweene an Orendge wife, and a Forset-seller, and then reiourne the Controuersie of three-penceto a second day of Audience. When you are hearing amatter betweene party and party, if you chaunce to beepinch'd with the Collike, you make faces like Mummers, set vp the bloodie Flagge against all Patience, andin roaring for a Chamber-pot, dismisse the Controuersiebleeding, the more intangled by your hearing: All thepeace you make in their Cause, is calling both the partiesKnaues. You are a payre of strange ones.

Bru.Come, come, you are well vnderstood to bee aperfecter gyber for the Table, then a necessary Bencher inthe Capitoll.

Men.Our very Priests must become Mockers, if theyshall encounter such ridiculous Subiects as you are, whenyou speake best vnto the purpose. It is not woorth thewagging of your Beards, and your Beards deserue not sohonourable a graue, as to stuffe a Botchers Cushion, or tobe intomb'd in an Asses Packe-saddle; yet you must beesaying, Martius is proud: who in a cheape estimation, isworth all your predecessors, since Deucalion, thoughperaduenture some of the best of 'em were hereditariehangmen. Godden to your Worships, more of your conuersationwould infect my Braine, being the Heardsmen of theBeastly Plebeans. I will be bold to take my leaue of you.Bru. and Scic.Aside.

Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria.

How now (my as faire as Noble) Ladyes, and the Moonewere shee Earthly, no Nobler; whither doe you followyour Eyes so fast?

Volum.Honorable Menenius, my Boy Martius approches:for the loue of Iuno let's goe.

Menen.Ha? Martius comming home?

Volum.I, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation.

Menen.Take my Cappe Iupiter, and I thanke thee:hoo, Martius comming home?

2. Ladies.Nay, 'tis true.

Volum.Looke, here's a Letter from him, the State hathanother, his Wife another, and (I thinke) there's one athome for you.

Menen.I will make my very house reele to night:A Letter for me?

Virgil.Yes certaine, there's a Letter for you, I saw't.

Menen.A Letter for me? it giues me an Estate of seuenyeeres health; in which time, I will make a Lippe atthe Physician: The most soueraigne Prescription in Galen,is but Emperickqutique; and to this Preseruatiue, of nobetter report then a Horse-drench. Is he not wounded?he was wont to come home wounded?

Virgil.Oh no, no, no.

Volum.Oh, he is wounded, I thanke the Gods for't.

Menen.So doe I too, if it be not too much: brings aVictorie in his Pocket? the wounds become him.

Volum.On's Browes: Menenius, hee comes the thirdtime home with the Oaken Garland.

Menen.Ha's he disciplin'd Auffidius soundly?

Volum.Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, butAuffidius got off.

Menen.And 'twas time for him too, Ile warrant himthat: and he had stay'd by him, I would not haue been sofiddious'd, for all the Chests in Carioles, and the Goldthat's in them. Is the Senate possest of this?

Volum.Good Ladies let's goe. Yes, yes, yes: TheSenate ha's Letters from the Generall, wherein hee giuesmy Sonne the whole Name of the Warre: he hath in thisaction out-done his former deeds doubly.

Valer.In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.

Menen.Wondrous: I, I warrant you, and not withouthis true purchasing.

Virgil.The Gods graunt them true.

Volum.True? pow waw.

Mene.True? Ile be sworne they are true: where ishee wounded, God saue your good Worships? Martiusis comming home: hee ha's more cause to be prowd:where is he wounded?

Volum.Ith' Shoulder, and ith' left Arme: there will belarge Cicatrices to shew the People, when hee shall standfor his place: he receiued in the repulse of Tarquin seuenhurts ith' Body.

Mene.One ith' Neck, and two ith' Thigh, there's ninethat I know.

Volum.Hee had, before this last Expedition, twentiefiue Wounds vpon him.

Mene.Now it's twentie seuen; euery gash was anEnemies Graue. Hearke, the Trumpets.A showt, and flourish.

Volum.These are the Vshers of Martius:Before him, hee carryes Noyse;And behinde him, hee leaues Teares:Death, that darke Spirit, in's neruie Arme doth lye,Which being aduanc'd, declines, and then men dye.

A Sennet.Trumpets sound.Enter Cominius the Generall, and Titus Latius: betweenethem Coriolanus, crown'd with an OakenGarland, with Captaines and Souldiers,and a Herauld.

Herauld.Know Rome, that all alone Martius did fightWithin Corioles Gates: where he hath wonne,With Fame, a Name to Martius Caius:These in honor followes Martius Caius Coriolanus.Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.Sound. Flourish.

All.Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus.

Coriol.No more of this, it does offend my heart: praynow no more.

Com.Looke, Sir, your Mother.

Coriol.Oh! you haue, I know, petition'd all the GodsKneeles.for my prosperitie.

Volum.Nay, my good Souldier, vp:My gentle Martius, worthy Caius,And by deed-atchieuing Honor newly nam'd,What is it (Coriolanus) must I call thee?But oh, thy Wife.

Corio.My gracious silence, hayle:Would'st thou haue laugh'd, had I come Coffin'd home,That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah my deare,Such eyes the Widowes in Carioles were,And Mothers that lacke Sonnes.

Mene.Now the Gods Crowne thee.

Com.And liue you yet? Oh my sweet Lady, pardon.

Volum.I know not where to turne.Oh welcome home: and welcome Generall,And y'are welcome all.

Mene.A hundred thousand Welcomes:I could weepe, and I could laugh,I am light, and heauie; welcome:A Curse begin at very root on's heart,That is not glad to see thee.You are three, that Rome should dote on:Yet by the faith of men, we haueSome old Crab-trees here at home,That will not be grafted to your Rallish.Yet welcome Warriors:Wee call a Nettle, but a Nettle;And the faults of fooles, but folly.

Com.Euer right.

Cor.Menenius, euer, euer.

Herauld.Giue way there, and goe on.

Cor.Your Hand, and yours?Ere in our owne house I doe shade my Head,The good Patricians must be visited,From whom I haue receiu'd not onely greetings,But with them, change of Honors.

Volum.I haue liued,To see inherited my very Wishes,And the Buildings of my Fancie:Onely there's one thing wanting,Which (I doubt not) but our RomeWill cast vpon thee.

Cor.Know, good Mother,I had rather be their seruant in my way,Then sway with them in theirs.

Com.Flourish. Cornets.On, to the Capitall.Exeunt. in State, as before.

Enter Brutus and Scicinius

Bru.All tongues speake of him, and the bleared sightsAre spectacled to see him. Your pratling NurseInto a rapture lets her Baby crie,While she chats him: the Kitchin Malkin pinnesHer richest Lockram 'bout her reechie necke,Clambring the Walls to eye him:Stalls, Bulkes, Windowes, are smother'd vp,Leades fill'd, and Ridges hors'dWith variable Complexions; all agreeingIn earnestnesse to see him: seld-showne FlaminsDoe presse among the popular Throngs, and puffeTo winne a vulgar station: our veyl'd DamesCommit the Warre of White and DamaskeIn their nicely gawded Cheekes, toth' wanton spoyleOf Phœbus burning Kisses: such a poother,As if that whatsoeuer God, who leades him,Were slyly crept into his humane powers,And gaue him gracefull posture.

Scicin.On the suddaine, I warrant him Consull.

Brutus.Then our Office may, during his power, goe sleepe.

Scicin.He cannot temp'rately transport his Honors,From where he should begin, and end, but willLose those he hath wonne.

Brutus.In that there's comfort.

Scici.Doubt not,The Commoners, for whom we stand, but theyVpon their ancient mallice, will forgetWith the least cause, these his new Honors,Which that he will giue them, make I as little question,As he is prowd to doo't.

Brutus.I heard him sweare,Were he to stand for Consull, neuer would heAppeare i'th'Market place, nor on him putThe Naples Vesture of Humilitie,Nor shewing (as the manner is) his WoundsToth' People, begge their stinking Breaths.

Scicin.'Tis right.

Brutus.It was his word:Oh he would misse it, rather then carry it,But by the suite of the Gentry to him,And the desire of the Nobles.

Scicin.I wish no better, then haue him hold that purpose,and to put it in execution.

Brutus.'Tis most like he will.

Scicin.It shall be to him then, as our good wills; asure destruction.

Brutus.So it must fall outTo him, or our Authorities, for an end.We must suggest the People, in what hatredHe still hath held them: that to's power he wouldHaue made them Mules, silenc'd their Pleaders,And dispropertied their Freedomes; holding them,In humane Action, and Capacitie,Of no more Soule, nor fitnesse for the World,Then Cammels in their Warre, who haue their ProuandOnely for bearing Burthens, and sore blowesFor sinking vnder them.

Scicin.This (as you say) suggested,At some time, when his soaring InsolenceShall teach the People, which time shall not want,If he be put vpon't, and that's as easie,As to set Dogges on Sheepe, will be his fireTo kindle their dry Stubble: and their BlazeShall darken him for euer.

Enter a Messenger.

Brutus.What's the matter?

Mess.You are sent for to the Capitoll:'Tis thought, that Martius shall be Consull:I haue seene the dumbe men throng to see him,And the blind to heare him speak: Matrons flong Gloues,Ladies and Maids their Scarffes, and Handkerchers,Vpon him as he pass'd: the Nobles bendedAs to Ioues Statue, and the Commons madeA Shower, and Thunder, with their Caps, and Showts:I neuer saw the like.

Brutus.Let's to the Capitoll,And carry with vs Eares and Eyes for th'time,But Hearts for the euent.

Scicin.Exeunt.Haue with you.