Coriolanus Page #2

if any fear lesser his person

than an ill report,

if any think brave death

outweighs bad life,

and that his country

is dearer than himself,

let him alone, or so many so minded

wave thus, to express his disposition,

and follow Martius!

O... me alone.

Make you a sword of me!

Oi!

Advance, brave Titus!

Away!

Come! Come!

I'll fight with none but thee,

for I do hate thee.

We hate alike.

Five times, Martius,

I have fought with thee.

So often has thou beat me,

and would do so, I fear,

should we encounter as often as we eat.

For where I thought to crush him

in an equal force,

true sword to sword,

I'll potch at him some way.

Or wrath or craft may get him.

He's the devil.

Bolder, though not so subtle.

Nor sleep, nor sanctuary,

being naked, sick,

the prayers of priests,

nor times of sacrifice

shall lift up their rotten

privilege and custom

against my hate to Martius.

Where I find him, were it at home,

upon my brother's guard,

even there, will I wash

my fierce hand in his heart.

Honorable Menenius!

My boy, Martius, approaches.

For the love of Juno, let's go.

Is he not wounded?

He was wont to come home wounded.

O yes, he is wounded.

I thank the gods for it.

O, so do I too,

if it be not too much.

Brings a victory in his pocket,

the wounds become him.

Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?

Titus Lartius said they fought together,

but Aufidius got off.

In truth, there's wondrous

things spoke of him.

Gods grant them true.

- True.

- I'll be sworn they're true.

Where is he wounded?

In the shoulder and in the left arm.

There will be large

scars to show the people

when he shall stand for his place.

He had, before this last expedition,

- 25 wounds upon him.

- Now it's 27.

Every gash was an enemy's grave.

Before him he carries noise,

and behind him he leaves tears.

Death, that dark spirit,

in his nervy arm doth lie.

Which, being advanced,

declines, and then men die.

Be it known,

as to us, to all the world,

that Caius Martius

wears this war's garland.

And, from this time,

for what he did before Corioles,

call him, with all the applause

and clamor of the host:

"Caius Martius Coriolanus."

Bear the addition nobly ever.

Caius Martius Coriolanus!

No more of this. It does offend

my heart. Pray now, no more.

Look, sir, your mother.

O, you have, I know, petitioned

all the gods for my prosperity.

Nay, my good soldier, up.

Ah, my gentle Martius, worthy Caius,

and by deed-achieving honor

newly named... What is it?

"Coriolanus" must I call thee?

But, O, thy wife...

My gracious silence, hail.

Wouldst thou have laughed

had I come coffined home,

that weeps to see me triumph?

Aye, my dear, such eyes

the widows in Corioles wear,

and mothers that lack sons.

- Now, the gods crown thee!

- And live you yet?

I could weep and I could laugh.

I'm light and heavy.

I know not where to turn.

O, you are welcome home.

You are welcome all.

- A hundred thousand welcomes!

- Welcome all!

Welcome, Coriolanus!

Welcome!

'Tis thought that

Martius shall be consul.

I have seen the dumb men

throng to see him,

and the blind to hear him speak.

Matrons flung gloves,

ladies and maids their scarves

and handkerchiefs

upon him as he passed.

The nobles bended as to Jove's statue.

And the commons made a shower

and thunder with their caps and shouts.

I never saw the like.

Was ever a man

so proud as is this Martius?

He has no equal.

When we were chosen tribunes

for the people...

- Marked you his lip and eyes?

- Nay, but his taunts.

The augurer tells me

we shall have news tonight.

Good or bad?

Not according to the prayer of

the people, for they love not Martius.

Nature teaches beasts

to know their friends.

You blame Martius for being proud?

- We do it not alone, sir.

- I know you can do very little alone.

You talk of pride.

O that you could turn your eyes

towards the napes of your necks

and make but an interior

survey of your good selves.

- O that you could.

- What then, sir?

Why, then you should discover

a brace of unmeriting, proud,

violent, testy politicians,

alias fools, as any in Rome.

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 water in it.

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.

Come, sir, come,

we know you well enough.

You know neither me,

yourselves, nor anything.

You're ambitious.

Good e'en to your worships.

More of your conversation

would infect my brain.

- How many stand for the consulship?

- Three, they say,

but 'tis thought of everyone

Coriolanus will carry it.

That's a brave fellow,

but he is vengeance proud

and loves not the common people.

There have been many great men

that have flattered the people

who never loved them.

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 them plainly see it.

But he seeks their hate with greater

devotion than they can render at him.

Now to seem to desire the malice

and displeasure of the people

is as bad as that which he dislikes,

to flatter them for their love.

Consider you what services

he has done for his country?

Very well. And would be content

to give him good report for it,

but that he pays

himself with being proud.

Nay, but speak not maliciously.

He hath deserve worthily of his country.

The good senators must be visited,

from whom I have received

not only greetings,

but with them change of honors.

I have lived to see inherited

my very wishes

and the buildings of my fancy.

Only there's one thing wanting,

which I doubt not

but our Rome will cast upon thee.

Good mother, I'd rather

be their servant in my way,

than sway with them in theirs.

Coriolanus will carry it.

He's a worthy man. He will carry it.

- All tongues speak of him.

- On the sudden, I warrant him consul.

Then our office may,

during his power, go asleep.

He cannot temperately

transport his honors

from where he should begin and end,

but will lose those he hath won.

I heard him swear,

were he to stand for consul,

never would he appear

in the marketplace,

nor showing, as the manner is,

his wounds to the people,

beg their stinking breaths.

It was his word. It shall be to him

then, a sure destruction.

So it must fall out to him,

or our authorities, for an end.

We must suggest to the people

in what hatred

he still hath held them.

Kindle their dry stubble,

and their blaze

shall darken him forever.

It remains, as the main point

of this our after-meeting,

to gratify his noble service

that hath thus stood for his country.

Therefore, please you,

most grave and reverend elders,

to desire the present consul, and last

general in our well-found successes,

to report a little of that worthy work

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