SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. The Tragedy of Coriolanus  Shakespeare homepage  |  Coriolanus  | Act 5, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. 

 Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others  CORIOLANUS  We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow 

 Set down our host. My partner in this action, 

 You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly 

 I have borne this business. 

 AUFIDIUS  Only their ends 

 You have respected; stopp'd 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  This last old man, 

 Whom with a crack'd 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 show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd 

 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 

 Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? 



 Shout within  Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow 

 In the same time 'tis made? I will not. 



 Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants  My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould 

 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. 

 What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, 

 Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not 

 Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; 

 As if Olympus to a molehill should 

 In supplication nod: and my young boy 

 Hath an aspect of intercession, which 

 Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces 

 Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never 

 Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, 

 As if a man were author of himself 

 And knew no other kin. 

 VIRGILIA  My lord and husband! 

 CORIOLANUS  These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. 

 VIRGILIA  The sorrow that delivers us thus changed 

 Makes you think so. 

 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.' 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 virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, 

 And the most noble mother of the world 

 Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; 



 Kneels  Of thy deep duty more impression show 

 Than that of common sons. 

 VOLUMNIA  O, stand up blest! 

 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. 



 Kneels  CORIOLANUS  What is this? 

 Your knees to me? to your corrected son? 

 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 

 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 

 That's curdied by the frost from purest snow 

 And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! 

 VOLUMNIA  This is a poor epitome of yours, 

 Which by the interpretation of full time 

 May show like all yourself. 

 CORIOLANUS  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' the wars 

 Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, 

 And saving those that eye thee! 

 VOLUMNIA  Your knee, sirrah. 

 CORIOLANUS  That's my brave boy! 

 VOLUMNIA  Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, 

 Are suitors to you. 

 CORIOLANUS  I beseech you, peace: 

 Or, if you'ld 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 

 Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not 

 Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not 

 To ally my rages and revenges with 

 Your colder reasons. 

 VOLUMNIA  O, no more, no more! 

 You have said you will not grant us any thing; 

 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. 

 CORIOLANUS  Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll 

 Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? 

 VOLUMNIA  Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment 

 And state of bodies would bewray what life 

 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 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 

 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. 

 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 

 Our wish, which side should win: for either thou 

 Must, as a foreign recreant, be led 

 With manacles thorough our streets, or else 

 triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, 

 And bear the palm for having bravely shed 

 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 

 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. 

 VIRGILIA  Ay, and mine, 

 That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name 

 Living to time. 

 Young MARCIUS  A' shall not tread on me; 

 I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. 

 CORIOLANUS  Not of a woman's tenderness to be, 

 Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. 

 I have sat too long. 



 Rising  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 us, 

 As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit 

 Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces 

 May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, 

 'This we received;' and each in either side 

 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, 

 Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; 

 Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, 

 But with his last attempt he wiped it out; 

 Destroy'd his country, and his name remains 

 To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: 

 Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, 

 To imitate the graces of the gods; 

 To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, 

 And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt 

 That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? 

 Think'st thou it honourable 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 

 More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate 

 Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life 

 Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, 

 When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, 

 Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, 

 Loaden with honour. 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: 

 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 bands 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  CORIOLANUS  O mother, mother! 

 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, 

 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? 

 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, 

 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! 

 AUFIDIUS  [Aside]  I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and 

 thy honour 

 At difference in thee: out of that I'll work 

 Myself a former fortune. 



 The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS  CORIOLANUS  Ay, by and by; 



 To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA,  & c  But we will drink together; and you shall bear 

 A better witness back than words, which we, 

 On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. 

 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. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Coriolanus  | Act 5, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene 