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Coriolanus complete text
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| Coriolanus. Most sweet voices! | 2.3.112
| Better it is to die, better to starve, | 2.3.113
| Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. | 2.3.114
| Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here, | 2.3.115
| To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, | 2.3.116
| Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't: | 2.3.117
| What custom wills, in all things should we do't, | 2.3.118
| The dust on antique time would lie unswept, | 2.3.119
| And mountainous error be too highly heapt | 2.3.120
| For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so, | 2.3.121
| Let the high office and the honour go | 2.3.122
| To one that would do thus. I am half through; | 2.3.123
| The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. | 2.3.124
Re-enter three Citizens more
| | Here come more voices. | 2.3.125
| Your voices: for your voices I have fought; | 2.3.126
| Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear | 2.3.127
| Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six | 2.3.128
| I have seen and heard of; for your voices have | 2.3.129
| Done many things, some less, some more your voices: | 2.3.130
| Indeed I would be consul. | 2.3.131
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| Coriolanus. Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, | 3.1.83
| I crave their pardons: | 3.1.84
| For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them | 3.1.85
| Regard me as I do not flatter, and | 3.1.86
| Therein behold themselves: I say again, | 3.1.87
| In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate | 3.1.88
| The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, | 3.1.89
| Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, | 3.1.90
| and scatter'd, | 3.1.91
| By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, | 3.1.92
| Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that | 3.1.93
| Which they have given to beggars. | 3.1.94
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| Coriolanus. 'Shall'! | 3.1.119
| O good but most unwise patricians! why, | 3.1.120
| You grave but reckless senators, have you thus | 3.1.121
| Given Hydra here to choose an officer, | 3.1.122
| That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but | 3.1.123
| The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit | 3.1.124
| To say he'll turn your current in a ditch, | 3.1.125
| And make your channel his? If he have power | 3.1.126
| Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake | 3.1.127
| Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd, | 3.1.128
| Be not as common fools; if you are not, | 3.1.129
| Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, | 3.1.130
| If they be senators: and they are no less, | 3.1.131
| When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste | 3.1.132
| Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, | 3.1.133
| And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,' | 3.1.134
| His popular 'shall' against a graver bench | 3.1.135
| Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself! | 3.1.136
| It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches | 3.1.137
| To know, when two authorities are up, | 3.1.138
| Neither supreme, how soon confusion | 3.1.139
| May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take | 3.1.140
| The one by the other. | 3.1.141
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| Coriolanus. I'll give my reasons, | 3.1.152
| More worthier than their voices. They know the corn | 3.1.153
| Was not our recompense, resting well assured | 3.1.154
| That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war, | 3.1.155
| Even when the navel of the state was touch'd, | 3.1.156
| They would not thread the gates. This kind of service | 3.1.157
| Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war | 3.1.158
| Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd | 3.1.159
| Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation | 3.1.160
| Which they have often made against the senate, | 3.1.161
| All cause unborn, could never be the motive | 3.1.162
| Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? | 3.1.163
| How shall this bisson multitude digest | 3.1.164
| The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express | 3.1.165
| What's like to be their words: 'we did request it; | 3.1.166
| We are the greater poll, and in true fear | 3.1.167
| They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase | 3.1.168
| The nature of our seats and make the rabble | 3.1.169
| Call our cares fears; which will in time | 3.1.170
| Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in | 3.1.171
| The crows to peck the eagles. | 3.1.172
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| Coriolanus. No, take more: | 3.1.175
| What may be sworn by, both divine and human, | 3.1.176
| Seal what I end withal! This double worship, | 3.1.177
| Where one part does disdain with cause, the other | 3.1.178
| Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom, | 3.1.179
| Cannot conclude but by the yea and no | 3.1.180
| Of general ignorance,--it must omit | 3.1.181
| Real necessities, and give way the while | 3.1.182
| To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd, | 3.1.183
| it follows, | 3.1.184
| Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,-- | 3.1.185
| You that will be less fearful than discreet, | 3.1.186
| That love the fundamental part of state | 3.1.187
| More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer | 3.1.188
| A noble life before a long, and wish | 3.1.189
| To jump a body with a dangerous physic | 3.1.190
| That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out | 3.1.191
| The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick | 3.1.192
| The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour | 3.1.193
| Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state | 3.1.194
| Of that integrity which should become't, | 3.1.195
| Not having the power to do the good it would, | 3.1.196
| For the in which doth control't. | 3.1.197
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| Coriolanus. Well, I must do't: | 3.2.133
| Away, my disposition, and possess me | 3.2.134
| Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, | 3.2.135
| Which quired with my drum, into a pipe | 3.2.136
| Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice | 3.2.137
| That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves | 3.2.138
| Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up | 3.2.139
| The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue | 3.2.140
| Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, | 3.2.141
| Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his | 3.2.142
| That hath received an alms! I will not do't, | 3.2.143
| Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth | 3.2.144
| And by my body's action teach my mind | 3.2.145
| A most inherent baseness. | 3.2.146
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| Coriolanus. You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate | 3.3.147
| As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize | 3.3.148
| As the dead carcasses of unburied men | 3.3.149
| That do corrupt my air, I banish you; | 3.3.150
| And here remain with your uncertainty! | 3.3.151
| Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! | 3.3.152
| Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, | 3.3.153
| Fan you into despair! Have the power still | 3.3.154
| To banish your defenders; till at length | 3.3.155
| Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels, | 3.3.156
| Making not reservation of yourselves, | 3.3.157
| Still your own foes, deliver you as most | 3.3.158
| Abated captives to some nation | 3.3.159
| That won you without blows! Despising, | 3.3.160
| For you, the city, thus I turn my back: | 3.3.161
| There is a world elsewhere. | 3.3.162
Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians
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| Coriolanus. What, what, what! | 4.1.16
| I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. | 4.1.17
| Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, | 4.1.18
| If you had been the wife of Hercules, | 4.1.19
| Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved | 4.1.20
| Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, | 4.1.21
| Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: | 4.1.22
| I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, | 4.1.23
| Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, | 4.1.24
| And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, | 4.1.25
| I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld | 4.1.26
| Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women | 4.1.27
| 'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, | 4.1.28
| As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well | 4.1.29
| My hazards still have been your solace: and | 4.1.30
| Believe't not lightly--though I go alone, | 4.1.31
| Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen | 4.1.32
| Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son | 4.1.33
| Will or exceed the common or be caught | 4.1.34
| With cautelous baits and practise. | 4.1.35
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| Coriolanus. Fare ye well: | 4.1.49
| Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full | 4.1.50
| Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one | 4.1.51
| That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate. | 4.1.52
| Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and | 4.1.53
| My friends of noble touch, when I am forth, | 4.1.54
| Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. | 4.1.55
| While I remain above the ground, you shall | 4.1.56
| Hear from me still, and never of me aught | 4.1.57
| But what is like me formerly. | 4.1.58
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| Coriolanus. Thank you, sir: farewell. | 4.4.15
Exit Citizen
| | O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, | 4.4.16
| Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, | 4.4.17
| Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, | 4.4.18
| Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love | 4.4.19
| Unseparable, shall within this hour, | 4.4.20
| On a dissension of a doit, break out | 4.4.21
| To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, | 4.4.22
| Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, | 4.4.23
| To take the one the other, by some chance, | 4.4.24
| Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends | 4.4.25
| And interjoin their issues. So with me: | 4.4.26
| My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon | 4.4.27
| This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me, | 4.4.28
| He does fair justice; if he give me way, | 4.4.29
| I'll do his country service. | 4.4.30
Exit
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| Coriolanus. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done | 4.5.66
| To thee particularly and to all the Volsces | 4.5.67
| Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may | 4.5.68
| My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, | 4.5.69
| The extreme dangers and the drops of blood | 4.5.70
| Shed for my thankless country are requited | 4.5.71
| But with that surname; a good memory, | 4.5.72
| And witness of the malice and displeasure | 4.5.73
| Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; | 4.5.74
| The cruelty and envy of the people, | 4.5.75
| Permitted by our dastard nobles, who | 4.5.76
| Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; | 4.5.77
| And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be | 4.5.78
| Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity | 4.5.79
| Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope-- | 4.5.80
| Mistake me not--to save my life, for if | 4.5.81
| I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world | 4.5.82
| I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, | 4.5.83
| To be full quit of those my banishers, | 4.5.84
| Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast | 4.5.85
| A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge | 4.5.86
| Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims | 4.5.87
| Of shame seen through thy country, speed | 4.5.88
| thee straight, | 4.5.89
| And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it | 4.5.90
| That my revengeful services may prove | 4.5.91
| As benefits to thee, for I will fight | 4.5.92
| Against my canker'd country with the spleen | 4.5.93
| Of all the under fiends. But if so be | 4.5.94
| Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes | 4.5.95
| Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am | 4.5.96
| Longer to live most weary, and present | 4.5.97
| My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; | 4.5.98
| Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, | 4.5.99
| Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate, | 4.5.100
| Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, | 4.5.101
| And cannot live but to thy shame, unless | 4.5.102
| It be to do thee service. | 4.5.103
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| Coriolanus. Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs | 5.2.86
| Are servanted to others: though I owe | 5.2.87
| My revenge properly, my remission lies | 5.2.88
| In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, | 5.2.89
| Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather | 5.2.90
| Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone. | 5.2.91
| Mine ears against your suits are stronger than | 5.2.92
| Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, | 5.2.93
| Take this along; I writ it for thy sake | 5.2.94
Gives a letter
| | And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius, | 5.2.95
| I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, | 5.2.96
| Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st! | 5.2.97
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| Coriolanus. This last old man, | 5.3.10
| Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, | 5.3.11
| Loved me above the measure of a father; | 5.3.12
| Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge | 5.3.13
| Was to send him; for whose old love I have, | 5.3.14
| Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd | 5.3.15
| The first conditions, which they did refuse | 5.3.16
| And cannot now accept; to grace him only | 5.3.17
| That thought he could do more, a very little | 5.3.18
| I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, | 5.3.19
| Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter | 5.3.20
| Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? | 5.3.21
Shout within
| | Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow | 5.3.22
| In the same time 'tis made? I will not. | 5.3.23
Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants
| | My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould | 5.3.24
| Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand | 5.3.25
| The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! | 5.3.26
| All bond and privilege of nature, break! | 5.3.27
| Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. | 5.3.28
| What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, | 5.3.29
| Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not | 5.3.30
| Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; | 5.3.31
| As if Olympus to a molehill should | 5.3.32
| In supplication nod: and my young boy | 5.3.33
| Hath an aspect of intercession, which | 5.3.34
| Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces | 5.3.35
| Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never | 5.3.36
| Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, | 5.3.37
| As if a man were author of himself | 5.3.38
| And knew no other kin. | 5.3.39
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| Coriolanus. Like a dull actor now, | 5.3.44
| I have forgot my part, and I am out, | 5.3.45
| Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, | 5.3.46
| Forgive my tyranny; but do not say | 5.3.47
| For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss | 5.3.48
| Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! | 5.3.49
| Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss | 5.3.50
| I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip | 5.3.51
| Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, | 5.3.52
| And the most noble mother of the world | 5.3.53
| Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; | 5.3.54
Kneels
| | Of thy deep duty more impression show | 5.3.55
| Than that of common sons. | 5.3.56
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| Coriolanus. O mother, mother! | 5.3.199
| What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, | 5.3.200
| The gods look down, and this unnatural scene | 5.3.201
| They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! | 5.3.202
| You have won a happy victory to Rome; | 5.3.203
| But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it, | 5.3.204
| Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, | 5.3.205
| If not most mortal to him. But, let it come. | 5.3.206
| Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, | 5.3.207
| I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, | 5.3.208
| Were you in my stead, would you have heard | 5.3.209
| A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? | 5.3.210
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| Coriolanus. Ay, by and by; | 5.3.222
To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, & c
| | But we will drink together; and you shall bear | 5.3.223
| A better witness back than words, which we, | 5.3.224
| On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. | 5.3.225
| Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve | 5.3.226
| To have a temple built you: all the swords | 5.3.227
| In Italy, and her confederate arms, | 5.3.228
| Could not have made this peace. | 5.3.229
Exeunt
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