SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. The Tragedy of Coriolanus  Shakespeare homepage  |  Coriolanus  | Act 3, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. 

 Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians  CORIOLANUS  Let them puff all about mine ears, present me 

 Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, 

 Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, 

 That the precipitation might down stretch 

 Below the beam of sight, yet will I still 

 Be thus to them. 

 A Patrician  You do the nobler. 

 CORIOLANUS  I muse my mother 

 Does not approve me further, who was wont 

 To call them woollen vassals, things created 

 To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads 

 In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, 

 When one but of my ordinance stood up 

 To speak of peace or war. 



 Enter VOLUMNIA  I talk of you: 

 Why did you wish me milder? would you have me 

 False to my nature? Rather say I play 

 The man I am. 

 VOLUMNIA  O, sir, sir, sir, 

 I would have had you put your power well on, 

 Before you had worn it out. 

 CORIOLANUS  Let go. 

 VOLUMNIA  You might have been enough the man you are, 

 With striving less to be so; lesser had been 

 The thwartings of your dispositions, if 

 You had not show'd them how ye were disposed 

 Ere they lack'd power to cross you. 

 CORIOLANUS  Let them hang. 

 A Patrician  Ay, and burn too. 



 Enter MENENIUS and Senators  MENENIUS  Come, come, you have been too rough, something 

 too rough; 

 You must return and mend it. 

 First Senator  There's no remedy; 

 Unless, by not so doing, our good city 

 Cleave in the midst, and perish. 

 VOLUMNIA  Pray, be counsell'd: 

 I have a heart as little apt as yours, 

 But yet a brain that leads my use of anger 

 To better vantage. 

 MENENIUS  Well said, noble woman? 

 Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that 

 The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic 

 For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, 

 Which I can scarcely bear. 

 CORIOLANUS  What must I do? 

 MENENIUS  Return to the tribunes. 

 CORIOLANUS  Well, what then? what then? 

 MENENIUS  Repent what you have spoke. 

 CORIOLANUS  For them! I cannot do it to the gods; 

 Must I then do't to them? 

 VOLUMNIA  You are too absolute; 

 Though therein you can never be too noble, 

 But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, 

 Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, 

 I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me, 

 In peace what each of them by the other lose, 

 That they combine not there. 

 CORIOLANUS  Tush, tush! 

 MENENIUS  A good demand. 

 VOLUMNIA  If it be honour in your wars to seem 

 The same you are not, which, for your best ends, 

 You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse, 

 That it shall hold companionship in peace 

 With honour, as in war, since that to both 

 It stands in like request? 

 CORIOLANUS  Why force you this? 

 VOLUMNIA  Because that now it lies you on to speak 

 To the people; not by your own instruction, 

 Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you, 

 But with such words that are but rooted in 

 Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables 

 Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. 

 Now, this no more dishonours you at all 

 Than to take in a town with gentle words, 

 Which else would put you to your fortune and 

 The hazard of much blood. 

 I would dissemble with my nature where 

 My fortunes and my friends at stake required 

 I should do so in honour: I am in this, 

 Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; 

 And you will rather show our general louts 

 How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em, 

 For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard 

 Of what that want might ruin. 

 MENENIUS  Noble lady! 

 Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, 

 Not what is dangerous present, but the loss 

 Of what is past. 

 VOLUMNIA  I prithee now, my son, 

 Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; 

 And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them-- 

 Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business 

 Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant 

 More learned than the ears--waving thy head, 

 Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart, 

 Now humble as the ripest mulberry 

 That will not hold the handling: or say to them, 

 Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils 

 Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, 

 Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, 

 In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame 

 Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far 

 As thou hast power and person. 

 MENENIUS  This but done, 

 Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; 

 For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free 

 As words to little purpose. 

 VOLUMNIA  Prithee now, 

 Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather 

 Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf 

 Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. 



 Enter COMINIUS  COMINIUS  I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit 

 You make strong party, or defend yourself 

 By calmness or by absence: all's in anger. 

 MENENIUS  Only fair speech. 

 COMINIUS  I think 'twill serve, if he 

 Can thereto frame his spirit. 

 VOLUMNIA  He must, and will 

 Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. 

 CORIOLANUS  Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? 

 Must I with base tongue give my noble heart 

 A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't: 

 Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, 

 This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it 

 And throw't against the wind. To the market-place! 

 You have put me now to such a part which never 

 I shall discharge to the life. 

 COMINIUS  Come, come, we'll prompt you. 

 VOLUMNIA  I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said 

 My praises made thee first a soldier, so, 

 To have my praise for this, perform a part 

 Thou hast not done before. 

 CORIOLANUS  Well, I must do't: 

 Away, my disposition, and possess me 

 Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, 

 Which quired with my drum, into a pipe 

 Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice 

 That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves 

 Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up 

 The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue 

 Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, 

 Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his 

 That hath received an alms! I will not do't, 

 Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth 

 And by my body's action teach my mind 

 A most inherent baseness. 

 VOLUMNIA  At thy choice, then: 

 To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour 

 Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let 

 Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear 

 Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death 

 With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list 

 Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me, 

 But owe thy pride thyself. 

 CORIOLANUS  Pray, be content: 

 Mother, I am going to the market-place; 

 Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, 

 Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved 

 Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going: 

 Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; 

 Or never trust to what my tongue can do 

 I' the way of flattery further. 

 VOLUMNIA  Do your will. 



 Exit  COMINIUS  Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself 

 To answer mildly; for they are prepared 

 With accusations, as I hear, more strong 

 Than are upon you yet. 

 CORIOLANUS  The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go: 

 Let them accuse me by invention, I 

 Will answer in mine honour. 

 MENENIUS  Ay, but mildly. 

 CORIOLANUS  Well, mildly be it then. Mildly! 



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