SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. The Tragedy of Coriolanus  Shakespeare homepage  |  Coriolanus  | Act 5, Scene 6 

 Previous scene  SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. 

 Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants  AUFIDIUS  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 herself with words: dispatch. 



 Exeunt Attendants 

 Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction  Most welcome! 

 First Conspirator  How is it with our general? 

 AUFIDIUS  Even so 

 As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, 

 And with his charity slain. 

 Second Conspirator  Most noble sir, 

 If you do hold the same intent wherein 

 You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you 

 Of your great danger. 

 AUFIDIUS  Sir, I cannot tell: 

 We must proceed as we do find the people. 

 Third Conspirator  The people will remain uncertain whilst 

 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either 

 Makes the survivor heir of all. 

 AUFIDIUS  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 Conspirator  Sir, his stoutness 

 When he did stand for consul, which he lost 

 By lack of stooping,-- 

 AUFIDIUS  That I would have spoke of: 

 Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; 

 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 Conspirator  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,-- 

 AUFIDIUS  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 Conspirator  Your native town you enter'd like a post, 

 And had no welcomes home: but he returns, 

 Splitting the air with noise. 

 Second Conspirator  And patient fools, 

 Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear 

 With giving him glory. 

 Third Conspirator  Therefore, at your vantage, 

 Ere he express himself, or move the people 

 With what he would say, let him feel your sword, 

 Which we will second. When he lies along, 

 After your way his tale pronounced shall bury 

 His reasons with his body. 

 AUFIDIUS  Say no more: 

 Here come the lords. 



 Enter the Lords of the city  All The Lords  You are most welcome home. 

 AUFIDIUS  I have not deserved it. 

 But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused 

 What I have written to you? 

 Lords  We have. 

 First Lord  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. 

 AUFIDIUS  He approaches: you shall hear him. 



 Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him  CORIOLANUS  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 

 Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, 

 Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, 

 Together with the seal o' the senate, what 

 We have compounded on. 

 AUFIDIUS  Read it not, noble lords; 

 But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree 

 He hath abused your powers. 

 CORIOLANUS  Traitor! how now! 

 AUFIDIUS  Ay, traitor, Marcius! 

 CORIOLANUS  Marcius! 

 AUFIDIUS  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. 

 CORIOLANUS  Hear'st thou, Mars? 

 AUFIDIUS  Name not the god, thou boy of tears! 

 CORIOLANUS  Ha! 

 AUFIDIUS  No more. 

 CORIOLANUS  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 judgments, 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. 

 First Lord  Peace, both, and hear me speak. 

 CORIOLANUS  Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, 

 Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound! 

 If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, 

 That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I 

 Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: 

 Alone I did it. Boy! 

 AUFIDIUS  Why, noble lords, 

 Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, 

 Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 

 'Fore your own eyes and ears? 

 All Conspirators  Let him die for't. 

 All The People  'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd 

 my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin 

 Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' 

 Second Lord  Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! 

 The man is noble and his fame folds-in 

 This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us 

 Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, 

 And trouble not the peace. 

 CORIOLANUS  O that I had him, 

 With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, 

 To use my lawful sword! 

 AUFIDIUS  Insolent villain! 

 All Conspirators  Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! 



 The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body  Lords  Hold, hold, hold, hold! 

 AUFIDIUS  My noble masters, hear me speak. 

 First Lord  O Tullus,-- 

 Second Lord  Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. 

 Third Lord  Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; 

 Put up your swords. 

 AUFIDIUS  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  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. 

 Second Lord  His own impatience 

 Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. 

 Let's make the best of it. 

 AUFIDIUS  My rage is gone; 

 And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. 

 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 