SCENE I. Rome. A public place. The Tragedy of Coriolanus  Shakespeare homepage  |  Coriolanus  | Act 5, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE I. Rome. A public place. 

 Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others  MENENIUS  No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said 

 Which was sometime his general; who loved him 

 In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: 

 But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; 

 A mile before his tent fall down, and knee 

 The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd 

 To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. 

 COMINIUS  He would not seem to know me. 

 MENENIUS  Do you hear? 

 COMINIUS  Yet one time he did call me by my name: 

 I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops 

 That we have bled together. Coriolanus 

 He would not answer to: forbad all names; 

 He was a kind of nothing, titleless, 

 Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire 

 Of burning Rome. 

 MENENIUS  Why, so: you have made good work! 

 A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, 

 To make coals cheap,--a noble memory! 

 COMINIUS  I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon 

 When it was less expected: he replied, 

 It was a bare petition of a state 

 To one whom they had punish'd. 

 MENENIUS  Very well: 

 Could he say less? 

 COMINIUS  I offer'd to awaken his regard 

 For's private friends: his answer to me was, 

 He could not stay to pick them in a pile 

 Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, 

 For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, 

 And still to nose the offence. 

 MENENIUS  For one poor grain or two! 

 I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, 

 And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: 

 You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt 

 Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. 

 SICINIUS  Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid 

 In this so never-needed help, yet do not 

 Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you 

 Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, 

 More than the instant army we can make, 

 Might stop our countryman. 

 MENENIUS  No, I'll not meddle. 

 SICINIUS  Pray you, go to him. 

 MENENIUS  What should I do? 

 BRUTUS  Only make trial what your love can do 

 For Rome, towards Marcius. 

 MENENIUS  Well, and say that Marcius 

 Return me, as Cominius is return'd, 

 Unheard; what then? 

 But as a discontented friend, grief-shot 

 With his unkindness? say't be so? 

 SICINIUS  Yet your good will 

 must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure 

 As you intended well. 

 MENENIUS  I'll undertake 't: 

 I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip 

 And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. 

 He was not taken well; he had not dined: 

 The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then 

 We pout upon the morning, are unapt 

 To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd 

 These and these conveyances of our blood 

 With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls 

 Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him 

 Till he be dieted to my request, 

 And then I'll set upon him. 

 BRUTUS  You know the very road into his kindness, 

 And cannot lose your way. 

 MENENIUS  Good faith, I'll prove him, 

 Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge 

 Of my success. 



 Exit  COMINIUS  He'll never hear him. 

 SICINIUS  Not? 

 COMINIUS  I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye 

 Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury 

 The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; 

 'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me 

 Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, 

 He sent in writing after me; what he would not, 

 Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: 

 So that all hope is vain. 

 Unless his noble mother, and his wife; 

 Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him 

 For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, 

 And with our fair entreaties haste them on. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Coriolanus  | Act 5, Scene 1 

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