CORIOLANUS. (WRITTEN ABOUT 1608.) INTRODUCTION. The metrical test places Coriolanus next after Antony and Cleopatra, and it is probable that such is its actual place in the chronological order. Having rendered into art the history of the ruin of a noble nature through voluptuous self-indulgence, Shakespeare went on to represent the ruin of a noble nature through haughtiness and pride. From Egypt, with its splendors, its glow, its revels, its moral license, we pass back to austere republican Rome. But, although free from voluptuousness, the condition of Rome is not strong and sound; there is political division between the patricians and plebeians. Shakespeare regards the people as an overgrown child with good and kindly instincts; owning a basis of untutored common-sense, but capable of being led astray by its leaders; possessed of little judgment and no reasoning powers, and without capacity for self-restraint. It is not for the people, however, that he reserves his scorn, but for their tribunes, the demagogues, who mislead and pervert them. Although nobler types of individual character are to be found among the patricians than the plebeians, the dramatist is not blind to the patrician vices, and indeed the whole tragedy turns upon the existence and the influence of these. Coriolanus is by nature of a kindly and generous disposition, but he inherits the aristocratical tradition, and his kindliness strictly limits itself to the circle which includes those of his own rank and class. For his mother, he has a veneration approaching to worship; he is content to be subordinate under Cominius; for the old Menenius he has an almost filial regard; but the people are "slaves," "curs," " minnows." His haughtiness becomes towering, because his personal pride, which in itself is great, is built up over a solid and high-reared pride of class. When he is banished, his bitterness arises not only from his sense of the contemptible nature of the adversaries to whom he is forced to yield, but from the additional sense that he has been deserted by his own class, "the dastard nobles." And it is in this spirit of revolt against the bonds of society and of nature, that he advances against his native city. But his haughtiness cannot really place him above nature. In the presence of his wife, his boy, and his mother, the strong man gives way and is restored once more to human love. And so his fate comes upon him. To the last something of his pride remains, and the immediate occasion of his death, is an outbreak of that sudden passion, springing from his self-esteem, which had already often and grievously wronged him. The majestic figure of Volumnia is Shakespeare's ideal of the Roman matron. The gentle Virgilia is the most beautiful and tenderly loyal of wives, and her friend Valeria is The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle DRAMATIS PERSONE. CAIUS MARCIUS, afterwards CAIUS MARCIUS | Two Volscian Guards. VOLUMNIA, mother to Coriolanus, Gentlewoman, attending on Virgilia. Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Ædiles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants. SCENE: Rome and the neighborhood; Corioli and the neighborhood; Antium. ACT I. SCENE I. Rome. A strect. Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons. First Cit. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. All. Speak, speak. First Cit. You are all resolved rather to die than to famish ? All. Resolved, resolved. First Cit. First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. All. We know't, we know't. 11 First Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict? All. No more talking on't; let it be done : away, away! Sec. Cit. One word, good citizens. First Cit. We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; but they think we are too dear: the leanmess that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them. Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. Sec. Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? All. Against him first he's a very dog to the commonalty. 29 Sec. Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country? First Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for't, but that he pays himself with being proud. Sec. Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously. First. Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end though soft-conscienced men can be content to say it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue. 41 90 Men. Either you must Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture To stale 't a little more. First Cit. Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please you, deliver. Men. There was a time when all the body's members Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it: 100 That only like a gulf it did remain I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive, Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing Like labor with the rest, where the other instruments Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, And, mutnally participate, did minister Unto the appetite and affection common Of the whole body. The belly answer'dFirst Cit. Well, sir, what answer made the belly? 110 True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he, 'That I receive the general food at first, Which you do live upon; and fit it is, Because I am the store-house and the shop Of the whole body: but, if you do remember, I send it through the rivers of your blood, Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the 140 And, through the cranks and offices of man, The strongest nerves and small inferior veins From me receive that natural competency Whereby they live: and though that all at brain; Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, The other makes you proud. He that trusts hares; Trust ye ? With every minute you do change a mind, And call him noble that was now your hate, Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, 190 That in these several places of the city seeking? Men. For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, The city is well stored. Mar. Hang'em! They say! They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise, |