Coriolanus

as enemies. Menenius Shall it be put to that? First Senator

The gods forbid!
I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;
Leave us to cure this cause.

Menenius

For ’tis a sore upon us,
You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you.

Cominius Come, sir, along with us. Coriolanus

I would they were barbarians⁠—as they are,
Though in Rome litter’d⁠—not Romans⁠—as they are not,
Though calved i’ the porch o’ the Capitol⁠—

Menenius

Be gone;
Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
One time will owe another.

Coriolanus

On fair ground
I could beat forty of them.

Menenius

I could myself
Take up a brace o’ the best of them; yea, the two tribunes.

Cominius

But now ’tis odds beyond arithmetic;
And manhood is call’d foolery, when it stands
Against a falling fabric. Will you hence,
Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
Like interrupted waters and o’erbear
What they are used to bear.

Menenius

Pray you, be gone:
I’ll try whether my old wit be in request
With those that have but little: this must be patch’d
With cloth of any colour.

Cominius Nay, come away. Exeunt Coriolanus, Cominius, and others. A Patrician This man has marr’d his fortune. Menenius

His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for’s power to thunder. His heart’s his mouth:
What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death. A noise within.
Here’s goodly work!

Second Patrician I would they were a-bed! Menenius

I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!
Could he not speak ’em fair?

Re-enter Brutus and Sicinius, with the rabble. Sicinius

Where is this viper
That would depopulate the city and
Be every man himself?

Menenius You worthy tribunes⁠— Sicinius

He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,
And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
Than the severity of the public power
Which he so sets at nought.

First Citizen

He shall well know
The noble tribunes are the people’s mouths,
And we their hands.

Citizens He shall, sure on’t. Menenius Sir, sir⁠— Sicinius Peace! Menenius

Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt
With modest warrant.

Sicinius

Sir, how comes’t that you
Have holp to make this rescue?

Menenius

Hear me speak:
As I do know the consul’s worthiness,
So can I name his faults⁠—

Sicinius Consul! what consul? Menenius The consul Coriolanus. Brutus He consul! Citizens No, no, no, no, no. Menenius

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
Than so much loss of time.

Sicinius

Speak briefly then;
For we are peremptory to dispatch
This viperous traitor: to eject him hence
Were but one danger, and to keep him here
Our certain death: therefore it is decreed
He dies to-night.

Menenius

Now the good gods forbid
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enroll’d
In Jove’s own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!

Sicinius He’s a disease that must be cut away. Menenius

O, he’s a limb that has but a disease;
Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
What has he done to Rome that’s 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 dropp’d it for his country;
And what is left, to lose it by his country,
Were to us all, that do’t and suffer it,
A brand to the end o’ the world.

Sicinius This is clean kam. Brutus

Merely awry: when he did love his country,
It honour’d him.

Menenius

The service of the foot
Being once gangrened, is not then respected
For what before it was.

Brutus

We’ll hear no more.
Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence;
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.

Menenius

One word more, one word.
This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find
The harm of unscann’d swiftness, will too late
Tie leaden pounds to’s heels. Proceed by process;
Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out,
And sack great Rome with Romans.

Brutus If it were so⁠— Sicinius

What do ye talk?
Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come.

Menenius

Consider this: he has been bred i’ the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school’d
In bolted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
I’ll go to him, and undertake to bring him
Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
In peace, to his utmost peril.

First Senator

Noble tribunes,
It is the humane way: the other course
Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
Unknown to the beginning.

Sicinius

Noble Menenius,
Be you then as the people’s officer.
Masters, lay down your weapons.

Brutus Go not home. Sicinius

Meet on the market-place. We’ll attend you there:
Where, if you bring not Marcius, we’ll proceed
In our first way.

Menenius

I’ll bring him to you.
To the Senators. Let me desire your company: he must come,
Or what is worst will follow.

First Senator Pray you, let’s to him. Exeunt.

Scene II

A room in Coriolanus’s house.

	Enter Coriolanus with Patricians.
Coriolanus	Let them puff all about mine ears, present me Death on the wheel or at wild horses’ heels, Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, That the precipitation might down stretch Below the beam of sight, yet will I still Be thus to them.
A Patrician	You do the nobler.
Coriolanus	I muse my mother 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, When one but of my ordinance stood up To speak of peace or war.
	Enter Volumnia.
	I talk of you: Why did you wish me milder? would you have me False to my nature? Rather say I play The man I am.
Volumnia	O, sir, sir, sir, I would have had you put your power well on, Before you had worn it out.
Coriolanus	Let go.
Volumnia	You might have been enough the man you are, With striving less to be so; lesser had been The thwartings of your dispositions, if You had not show’d them how ye were disposed Ere they lack’d power