Act IIScene II
Rome. The Capitol
Enter two Officers, to lay cushions, as it were in the Capitol.
First Officer
Come, come. They are almost here. How many stand for consulships?
Second Officer
Three, they say; but ’tis thought of everyone Coriolanus will carry it.
First Officer
That’s a brave fellow, but he’s vengeance proud and loves not the common people.
Second Officer
’Faith, there have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne’er loved them; and there be many that they have loved they know not wherefore; so that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no better a ground. 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’t.
First Officer
If he did not care whether he had their love or no, he waved indifferently ’twixt doing them neither good nor harm; but he seeks their hate with greater devotion than they can render it him and leaves nothing undone that may fully discover him their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.
Second Officer
He hath deserved worthily of his country, and his ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, without any further deed to have them at all into their estimation and report; but he hath so planted his honours in their eyes and his actions in their hearts that for their tongues to be silent and not confess so much were a kind of ingrateful injury. To report otherwise were a malice that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.
First Officer
No more of him; he’s a worthy man. Make way. They are coming.
A sennet. Enter the Patricians and the Tribunes of the people, Lictors before them; Coriolanus, Menenius, Cominius the consul. The Patricians sit. Sicinius and Brutus take their places by themselves. Coriolanus stands.
Menenius
Having determined of the Volsces andTo send for Titus Lartius, it remains,As the main point of this our after-meeting,To gratify his noble service thatHath thus stood for his country. Therefore please you,Most reverend and grave elders, to desireThe present consul and last generalIn our well-found successes to reportA little of that worthy work performedBy Martius Caius Coriolanus, whomWe met here both to thank and to rememberWith honours like himself.
Coriolanus sits.
First Senator
Speak, good Cominius.Leave nothing out for length, and make us thinkRather our state’s defective for requital,Than we to stretch it out. Masters o’ th’ people,We do request your kindest ears and, after,Your loving motion toward the common bodyTo yield what passes here.
Sicinius
We are conventedUpon a pleasing treaty and have heartsInclinable to honour and advanceThe theme of our assembly.
Brutus
Which the ratherWe shall be blest to do if he rememberA kinder value of the people thanHe hath hereto prized them at.
Menenius
That’s off, that’s off!I would you rather had been silent. Please youTo hear Cominius speak?
Brutus
Most willingly.But yet my caution was more pertinentThan the rebuke you give it.
Menenius
He loves your people,But tie him not to be their bedfellow.—Worthy Cominius, speak.
Coriolanus rises, and offers to go away.
Nay, keep your place.
First Senator
Sit, Coriolanus. Never shame to hearWhat you have nobly done.
Coriolanus
Your Honours, pardon.I had rather have my wounds to heal againThan hear say how I got them.
Brutus
Sir, I hopeMy words disbenched you not?
Coriolanus
No, sir. Yet oft,When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.You soothed not, therefore hurt not; but your people,I love them as they weigh.
Menenius
Pray now, sit down.
Coriolanus
I had rather have one scratch my head i’ th’ sunWhen the alarum were struck than idly sitTo hear my nothings monstered.
Exit.
Menenius
Masters of the people,Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter—That’s thousand to one good one—when you now seeHe had rather venture all his limbs for honourThan one on’s ears to hear it?—Proceed, Cominius.
Cominius
I shall lack voice. The deeds of CoriolanusShould not be uttered feebly. It is heldThat valour is the chiefest virtue andMost dignifies the haver; if it be,The man I speak of cannot in the worldBe singly counterpoised. At sixteen years,When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he foughtBeyond the mark of others. Our then dictator,Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fightWhen with his Amazonian chin he droveThe bristled lips before him. He bestridAn o’erpressed Roman and i’ th’ Consul’s viewSlew three opposers. Tarquin’s self he metAnd struck him on his knee. In that day’s feats,When he might act the woman in the scene,He proved best man i’ th’ field and for his meedWas brow-bound with the oak. His pupil ageMan-entered thus, he waxed like a sea,And in the brunt of seventeen battles sinceHe lurched all swords of the garland. For this last,Before and in Corioles, let me say,I cannot speak him home. He stopped the flyersAnd by his rare example made the cowardTurn terror into sport. As weeds beforeA vessel under sail, so men obeyedAnd fell below his stem. His sword, Death’s stamp,Where it did mark, it took; from face to footHe was a thing of blood, whose every motionWas timed with dying cries. Alone he enteredThe mortal gate o’ th’ city, which he paintedWith shunless destiny; aidless came offAnd with a sudden reinforcement struckCorioles like a planet. Now all’s his,When by and by the din of war gan pierceHis ready sense; then straight his doubled spiritRequickened what in flesh was fatigate,And to the battle came he, where he didRun reeking o’er the lives of men as if’Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we calledBoth field and city ours, he never stoodTo ease his breast with panting.
Menenius
Worthy man!
First Senator
He cannot but with measure fit the honoursWhich we devise him.
Cominius
Our spoils he kicked at;And looked upon things precious as they wereThe common muck of the world. He covets lessThan misery itself would give, rewardsHis deeds with doing them, and is contentTo spend the time to end it.
Menenius
He’s right noble.Let him be called for.
First Senator
Call Coriolanus.
Officer
He doth appear.
Enter Coriolanus.
Menenius
The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleasedTo make thee consul.
Coriolanus
I do owe them stillMy life and services.
Menenius
It then remainsThat you do speak to the people.
Coriolanus
I do beseech youLet me o’erleap that custom, for I cannotPut on the gown, stand naked, and entreat themFor my wounds’ sake to give their suffrage. Please youThat I may pass this doing.
Sicinius
Sir, the peopleMust have their voices; neither will they bateOne jot of ceremony.
Menenius
Put them not to’t.Pray you, go fit you to the custom, andTake to you, as your predecessors have,Your honour with your form.
Coriolanus
It is a partThat I shall blush in acting, and might wellBe taken from the people.
Brutus
Mark you that?
Coriolanus
To brag unto them, “thus I did, and thus!”Show them th’ unaching scars which I should hide,As if I had received them for the hireOf their breath only!
Menenius
Do not stand upon’t.—We recommend to you, tribunes of the people,Our purpose to them, and to our noble consulWish we all joy and honour.
Senators
To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!
Flourish cornets. Exeunt all but Sicinius and Brutus.
Brutus
You see how he intends to use the people.
Sicinius
May they perceive’s intent! He will require themAs if he did contemn what he requestedShould be in them to give.
Brutus
Come, we’ll inform themOf our proceedings here. On th’ marketplaceI know they do attend us.
Exeunt.