The Works of William Shakespeare

170

That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
This is the last: so we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold's:
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:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli and his child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,
And then I'll speak a little. [He holds her by the
hand, silent.
O mother, mother!
Behold, the heavens do

Cor. What have you done? ope,

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190

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,
Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
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
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
Auf. I was moved withal.
Cor.
I dare be sworn you were:
And, sir, it is no little thing to make
Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part,
I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray

SCENE IV. Rome. A public place.

Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS.

vail with him. But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are sentenced and stay upon execution. Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man?

Men. There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a creeping thing.

Sic. He loved his mother dearly.

Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity and a heaven to throne in.

Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.

Men. I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is long of you.

Sic. The gods be good unto us!

Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected not them; and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

[A shout within. This is good news:

I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia Men. See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, corner-stone?

Sic. Why, what of that?

Men. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may pre

A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day:
This morning for ten thousand of your throats 59
I'ld not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
[Music still, with shouts.

Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tidings; Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; 30 next,

Accept my thankfulness.

Sir, we have all

Sec. Mess.
Great cause to give great thanks.

Sic.
They are near the city?
Sec. Mess. Almost at point to enter.
Sic.
We will meet them,
And help the joy.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
The same. A street near the gate.
Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA,
VALERIA, &c. passing over the stage, followed
by Patricians, and others.

First Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!

Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before
them:

Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
Cry Welcome, ladies, welcome!'

All. Welcome!

Welcome, ladies, [A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants. Auf. Go tell the lords o' the city I am here: Deliver them this paper: having read it, Bid them repair to the market-place; where I, Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse The city ports by this hath enter'd and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To purge himself with words: dispatch. [Exeunt Attendants.

Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction.

'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
Auf.
I know it;
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd,
He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable and free.
Third Con. Sir, his stoutness

When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping,-

Auf.

That I would have spoke of:

Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; served his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
I seem'd his follower, not partner, and
He waged me with his countenance, as if
I had been mercenary.

First Con.

So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,

When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
For no less spoil than glory,-
Auf.
There was it:
For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
[Drums and trumpets sound, with great
shouts of the People.
First Con. Your native town you enter'd like
a post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.

Sec. Con.

And patient fools,

Whose children he hath slain, their base throats

All the Lords. You are most welcome home. Auf. I have not deserved it. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused What I have written to you?

Lords.

First Lord.

We have.

And grieve to hear't.
What faults he made before the last, I think
Might have found easy fines: but there to end
Where he was to begin and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding,-this admits no excuse.
Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him. 70.
Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and
colours; Commoners being with him.
Cor. Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier,
No more infected with my country's love
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know
That prosperously I have attempted and
With bloody passage led your wars even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought
home

Do more than counterpoise a full third part
The charges of the action. We have made peace
With no less honour to the Antiates

Auf Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think

I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
Coriolanus in Corioli?

You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously
He has betray'd your business, and given up,
For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
I say your city,' to his wife and mother;
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears
He whined and roar'd away your victory,
That pages blush'd at him and men of heart
Look'd wondering each at other.

Cor.
Hear'st thou, Mars? 100
Auf Name not the god, thou boy of tears!

Cor.

Auf. No more.

Ha!

Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!
Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
I was forced to scold. Your judgements, my
grave lords,

Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-
Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that
Must bear my beating to his grave-shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.

IIO

Auf. My lords, when you shall know-as in this rage,

Provoked by him, you cannot-the great danger
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.

First Lord.

141

Bear from hence his body; And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most noble corse that ever herald Did follow to his urn.

Sec. Lord.

His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. Let's make the best of it. Auf. My rage is gone; And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. 149 Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory.

Assist. [Exeunt, bearing the body of Coriolanus. A dead march sounded.

SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol.
The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the
Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below,
from one side, SATURNINUS and his Follow-
ers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS
and his Followers; with drum and colours.
Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms,
And, countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords:
I am his first-born son, that was the last
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;
Then let my father's honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

EMILIUS, a noble Roman.
ALARBUS,

DEMETRIUS, sons to Tamora.
CHIRON,

AARON, a Moor, beloved by Tamora.

A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown;
Romans.

Goths and Romans.

TAMORA, Queen of the Goths.

LAVINIA, daughter to Titus Andronicus.
A Nurse.

Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and
Attendants.

SCENE: Rome, and the country near it.

From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field;

And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat, by honour of his name,
Whom worthily you would have now succeed, 40
And in the Capitol and senate's right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
That you withdraw you and abate your strength;
Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,

Bas. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. my right,

If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,

Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence and nobility;
But let desert in pure election shine,
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the

crown.

1Ο

Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my
thoughts!

Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In thy uprightness and integrity,

And so I love and honour thee and thine,
Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
And to my fortunes and the people's favour
Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
[Exeunt the Followers of Bassianus.
Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in
my right,

I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
And to the love and favour of my country
Commit myself, my person and the cause.

[Exeunt the Followers of Saturninus. Rome, be as just and gracious unto me As I am confident and kind to thee. Open the gates, and let me in. Bas. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. [Flourish. Saturninus and Bassianus go up into the Capitol.

Enter a Captain.

Cap. Romans, make way: the good Andro-
nicus,

Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
Successful in the battles that he fights,
With honour and with fortune is return'd
From where he circumscribed with his sword,
And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome.
Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MAR-
TIUS and MUTIUS; after them, two Men
bearing a coffin covered with black; then
LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS
ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALAR-
BUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other
Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and People follow-
ing. The Bearers set down the coffin, and
TITUS speaks.

Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning
weeds!

Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught,
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!
Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
These that survive let Rome reward with love;
These that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors:

Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him! and make a fire straight;
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
[Exeunt Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and
Mutius, with Alarbus.

130

Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!
Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
To tremble under Titus' threatening looks.
Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths-
When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and
MUTIUS, with their swords bloody.
Luc. See, lord and father, how we have per-
form'd

Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,

sword.

Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
Make way to lay them by their brethren.
[The tomb is opened.
There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, 90
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more!

Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the
Goths,

100

That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthy prison of their bones;
That so the shadows be not unappeased,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tit. I give him you, the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressed
queen.

Tam. Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious con-
queror,

Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son:
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son to be as dear to me!
Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs and return,
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,
But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O, if to fight for king and commonweal

141

And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be so; and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

[Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb.

peace and honour rest you here, my sons; 150 Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in

160

My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy,
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!
Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly re-
served

The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!

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