and former friend, tries to dissuade him from attacking the city; but his appeal is fruitless. At length he is visited by his mother, his wife, and his young son, and their tears and entreaties succeed in turning him from his purpose. But he does not return to Rome. He retires with the Volsces to Antium, and there he is basely murdered by conspirators in league with Aufidius, whose jealousy of the noble Roman is revived by the failure of the alliance from which he expected a glorious revenge.

Shakespeare's sympathies are evidently with Coriolanus; not as the champion of Patrician intolerance, but as a truly grand individual character, in whom the spirit of caste was ennobled by the crown of martyrdom. The poet was also misled, doubtless, by the notion, current until very recent times, that the Roman Plebs were a vulgar, ignorant, and despicable rabble. This error apart, nothing is more remarkable in the Play than the extraordinary power with which he has grasped, and the life-like faithfulness with which he has depicted, the "political situation" in Rome at the time to which the tragedy relates.

PART I.

SCENE-ROME: A STREET.

Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons.

First Cit. Before we proceed any farther, hear me speak.

All. Speak, speak.

First Cit. You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
All. Resolved, resolved.

First Cit. First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.

All. We know't, we know't.

First Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict?

All. No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away.
Sec. Cit. One word, good citizens.

10

First Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good. What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them. Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

Sec. Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? 20 All. Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty. Sec. Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country? First Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for't, but that he pays himself with being proud.

Sec. Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

First Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be content to say it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

Sec. Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.

31

First Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o' the city is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol !

All. Come, come.

First Cit. Soft! who comes here?

Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA.

Sec. Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.

First Cit. He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so! 40 Men. What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.

First Cit. Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we have strong arms too.

Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
Will you undo yourselves?

First Cit. We cannot, sir; we are undone already.
Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care

Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
Against the Roman state; whose course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong link asunder than can ever
Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
The gods, not the patricians, make it; and

Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,*
You are transported by calamity

Thither where more attends you; and you slander
The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,
When you curse them as enemies.

50

60

First Cit. Care for us! True, indeed!—They ne'er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich; and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will: and there's all the love they bear us.

Men. Either you must

Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,

Or be accused of folly.

70

Enter CAIUS MARCIUS.

Hail, noble Marcius!

Mar. Thanks.-What's the matter, you dissentious* rogues, That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,

Make yourselves scabs?

First Cit. We have ever your good word.

Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter
Beneath abhorring.-What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,

To make him worthy whose offence subdues him,

And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness,
Deserves your hate; and your affections are

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that

80

Which would increase his evil. He that depends

90

Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind,

And call him noble that was now your hate,

Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter,
That in these several places of the city

You cry against the noble senate, who,

Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else

Would feed on one another?-What's their seeking?
Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,
The city is well stored.

Mar.
Hang 'em! They say !
They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know

What's done i' the Capitol: who's like to rise,

Who thrives, and who declines; side factions, and give out
Conjectural marriages; making parties strong,

And feebling such as stand not in their liking

Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's grain enough!
Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,*

And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry

With thousands of these quartered slaves, as high

As I could pick* my lance.

Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
For though abundantly they lack discretion,

Yet are they passing* cowardly. But, I beseech you,
What says the other troop?

Mar.
They are dissolved. Hang 'em!
They said they were an-hungry; sighed forth proverbs,—
That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds
They vented their complainings; which being answered,

100

110

120

And a petition granted them, a strange one—

To break the heart of generosity,

And make bold power look pale-they threw their caps
As they would hang them on the horns of the moon,
Shouting their emulation.

Men.

What is granted them?

Mar. Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus,
Sicinius Velutus, and I know not-'Sdeath!
The rabble should have first unroofed the city,
Ere so prevailed with me: it will in time

Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes
For insurrection's arguing.

Men.

This is strange.

Mar. Go, get you home, you fragments!

130

Enter a Messenger, hastily.

Mess. Where's Caius Marcius?

Here: what's the matter?

140

Mar.

Mess. The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.

Mar. I am glad on't: then we shall ha' means to vent

Our musty superfluity.-See, our best elders.

Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS.

First Sen. Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us: The Volsces are in arms.

They have a leader,

Mar.
Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to't.
I sin in envying his nobility,

And were I anything but what I am,

I would wish me only he.

Com.

You have fought together.

Mar. Were half to half the world by the ears, and he Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make

Only my wars with him: he is a lion

That I am proud to hunt.

First Sen.

Then, worthy Marcius,

Sir, it is;

Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
Com. It is your former promise.

Mar.

And I am constant.-Titus Lartius, thou
Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.
What! art thou stiff? stand'st out?

Tit.

150

160

No, Caius Marcius;

I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other,
Ere stay behind this business.

First Sen. Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, Our greatest friends attend us.

Tit.

[To Com.] Lead you on.—

[To Mar.] Follow Cominius; we must follow you; Right worthy you priority.

Com.

Noble Marcius!

170

First Sen. [To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone! Mar. Nay, let them follow: The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither To gnaw their garners.-Worshipful mutiners,* Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.

[Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but
Sicinius and Brutus.

Sic. Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?
Bru. He has no equal.

Sic. When we were chosen tribunes for the people—
Bru. Marked you his lip and eyes?

Sic.

Nay, but his taunts.

Bru. Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.
Sic. Be-mock the modest moon.

Bru. The present wars devour him: he is grown
Too proud to be so valiant.

Sic.

Such a nature,

Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder
His insolence can brook to be commanded
Under Cominius.

Bru.
Fame, at the which he aims,-
In whom already he's well-graced, can not
Better be held nor more attained than by
A place below the first: for what miscarries
Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure
Will then cry out of Marcius, "Oh, if he
Had borne the business!"

Sic.
Besides, if things go well,
Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall
Of his demerits* rob Cominius.

Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,

Though Marcius earned them not; and all his faults
To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed

In aught he merit not.

Sic.

Let's hence, and hear

How the dispatch is made; and in what fashion,
More than his singularity, he goes

Upon this present action.

Bru.

Let's along.

180

190

200

210

[Exeunt.