Original Text |
Translated Text |
| Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
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Enter Coriolanus and Aufidius. 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 5
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 and Aufidius head over to Coriolanus' private tent for a little chat. |
CORIOLANUS This last old man, 10
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 15
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 20 | Coriolanus tells us that he feels kind of bad about the way he treated Menenius. After all, the dude loved him like a "father" loves a "son." That said, Coriolanus wants nothing more to do with Rome, even if they send more people to beg for mercy.
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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 honored mold 25
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 doves’ eyes, 30
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 35
Hath an aspect of intercession which
Great Nature cries “Deny not!” Let the Volsces
Plow Rome and harrow Italy, I’ll never
Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand
As if a man were author of himself, 40
And knew no other kin. VIRGILIA My lord and husband. | Just then, Coriolanus' entire family shows up--his wife Virgilia, his little son Martius, and his mom Volumnia. Plus, his wife's sidekick, Valeria, is there, too. (For moral support, of course.) Coriolanus tries to be hard but then his mom kneels before him and his wife cries out "My lord and husband."
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CORIOLANUS
These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. VIRGILIA
The sorrow that delivers us thus changed
Makes you think so. 45 CORIOLANUS Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out,
Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
Forgive my tyranny, but do not say
For that “Forgive our Romans.” They kiss. 50
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 55
And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted. Sink, my knee, i’ th’ earth; Kneels.
Of thy deep duty more impression show
Than that of common sons. VOLUMNIA O, stand up blest, 60 He 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? 65
Your knees to me? To your corrected son? He raises her up. Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Fillip the stars! Then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars ’gainst the fiery sun,
Murdering impossibility to make 70
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 75
That’s curdied by the frost from purest snow
And hangs on Dian’s temple!—Dear Valeria. VOLUMNIA, presenting young Martius
This is a poor epitome of yours,
Which by th’ interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself. 80 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 seamark standing every flaw 85
And saving those that eye thee. VOLUMNIA, to young Martius Your knee, sirrah. He kneels. CORIOLANUS That’s my brave boy! VOLUMNIA
Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself
Are suitors to you. Young Martius rises. 90 CORIOLANUS I beseech you, peace;
Or if you’d ask, remember this before:
The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
Dismiss my soldiers or capitulate 95
Again with Rome’s mechanics. Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural; desire not
T’ allay my rages and revenges with
Your colder reasons. VOLUMNIA O, no more, no more! 100
You have said you will not grant us anything;
For we have nothing else to ask but that
Which you deny already. Yet we will ask,
That if you fail in our request, the blame
May hang upon your hardness. Therefore hear us. 105 CORIOLANUS
Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark, for we’ll
Hear naught from Rome in private. He sits. Your
request? | He tells them not to bother begging for mercy but we can tell he's turning into a giant marshmallow. |
VOLUMNIA
Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
And state of bodies would bewray what life 110
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which
should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with 115
comforts,
Constrains them weep and shake with fear and
sorrow,
Making the mother, wife, and child to see
The son, the husband, and the father tearing 120
His country’s bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity’s most capital. Thou barr’st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy. For how can we—
Alas, how can we—for our country pray, 125
Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had 130
Our wish, which side should win, for either thou
Must as a foreign recreant be led
With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country’s ruin
And bear the palm for having bravely shed 135
Thy wife and children’s blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune till
These wars determine. If I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner 140
March to assault thy country than to tread—
Trust to ’t, thou shalt not—on thy mother’s womb
That brought thee to this world. | Volumnia goes to work on her son by appealing to his love of family.
Then she refers to Rome as Coriolanus' "dear nurse" and says that if he
destroys Rome, it will be like stomping all over his "mother's womb."
(Eww.) |
VIRGILIA Ay, and mine,
That brought you forth this boy to keep your name 145
Living to time. | Now his wife, Virgilia, adds that it would be like stomping on her womb, too. (You know, the one that gave birth to Coriolanus' adorable, butterfly-killing son.) |
YOUNG MARTIUS He shall not tread on me.
I’ll run away till I am bigger, but then I’ll fight.
| Now little Martius chimes in that he'll never let his dad stomp all over him. He'll just leave and then come back as an adult and kick his father's butt.
#daddyissues |
CORIOLANUS
Not of a woman’s tenderness to be
Requires nor child nor woman’s face to see.— 150
I have sat too long. He rises. | This is too much for Coriolanus. He gets up and tries to leave. |
VOLUMNIA Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so, that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn 155
us
As poisonous of your honor. No, our suit
Is that you reconcile them, while the Volsces
May say “This mercy we have showed,” the Romans
“This we received,” and each in either side 160
Give the all-hail to thee and cry “Be blest
For making up this peace!” Thou know’st, great son,
The end of war’s uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name 165
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: “The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country, and his name remains
To th’ ensuing age abhorred.” Speak to me, son. 170
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor
To imitate the graces of the gods,
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’ th’ air
And yet to charge thy sulfur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? 175
Think’st thou it honorable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?—Daughter, speak you.
He cares not for your weeping.—Speak thou, boy.
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons.—There’s no man in the world 180
More bound to ’s mother, yet here he lets me prate
Like one i’ th’ stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Showed thy dear mother any courtesy
When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has clucked thee to the wars and safely home, 185
Loaden with honor. Say my request’s unjust
And spurn me back; but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee
That thou restrain’st from me the duty which
To a mother’s part belongs.—He turns away.— 190
Down, ladies! Let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus ’longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down! An end. They kneel. This is the last. So, we will home to Rome
And die among our neighbors.—Nay, behold ’s. 195
This boy that cannot tell what he would have,
But kneels and holds up hands for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny ’t.—Come, let us go. They rise. This fellow had a Volscian to his mother, 200
His wife is in Corioles, and his child
Like him by chance.—Yet give us our dispatch.
I am hushed until our city be afire,
And then I’ll speak a little. He holds her by the hand, silent. | That's when his mom goes off on him, delivering a lengthy speech about how Coriolanus will lose all his "honor" and "nobility" if he destroys Rome. Plus, it's the worst thing a guy could ever do to his family. (We're totally remembering this one for if we ever have a son.) Meanwhile, his wife and son have been looking at him with big, sad eyes.
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CORIOLANUS O mother, mother! 205
What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
They laugh at. O, my mother, mother, O!
You have won a happy victory to Rome,
But, for your son—believe it, O, believe it!— 210
Most dangerously you have with him prevailed,
If not most mortal to him. But let it come.—
Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
I’ll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, would you have heard 215
A mother less? Or granted less, Aufidius? AUFIDIUS
I was moved withal. CORIOLANUS I dare be sworn you were.
And, sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, 220
What peace you’ll make advise me. For my part,
I’ll not to Rome. I’ll back with you; and pray you,
Stand to me in this cause.—O mother!—Wife! He speaks with them aside. | Coriolanus finally gives in and agrees to make peace between Rome and the Volscian people. |
AUFIDIUS, aside
I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honor
At difference in thee. Out of that I’ll work 225
Myself a former fortune. CORIOLANUS, to the Women Ay, by and by;
But we will drink together, and you shall bear
A better witness back than words, which we,
On like conditions, will have countersealed. 230
Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
To have a temple built you. All the swords
In Italy, and her confederate arms,
Could not have made this peace. They exit. | Meanwhile, Tullus Aufidius has been watching all this family drama unfold. He thinks it's awesome that Coriolanus has gone soft because now he's got the perfect chance to destroy him. |