We hear not of him, neither need we fear him.

His remedies are tame—the present peace,

And quietness of the people, which before

Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends

Blush that the world goes well, who rather had,

Though they themselves did suffer by’t, behold

Dissentious numbers pest’ring streets than see

Our tradesmen singing in their shops and going

About their functions friendly.

We stood to’t in good time.

Is this Menenius?

’Tis he, ’tis he. O, he is grown most kind

Of late.—Hail, sir!

Hail to you both.

Your Coriolanus is not much missed

But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand,

And so would do were he more angry at it.

All’s well, and might have been much better if

He could have temporized.

Where is he, hear you?

Nay, I hear nothing;

His mother and his wife hear nothing from him.

The gods preserve you both!

Good e’en, our neighbours.

Good e’en to you all, good e’en to you all.

Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees

Are bound to pray for you both.

Live and thrive!

Farewell, kind neighbours. We wished Coriolanus

Had loved you as we did.

Now the gods keep you!

Farewell, farewell.

This is a happier and more comely time

Than when these fellows ran about the streets

Crying confusion.

Caius Martius was

A worthy officer i’ th’ war, but insolent,

O’ercome with pride, ambitious, past all thinking

Self-loving.

And affecting one sole throne, without assistance.

I think not so.

We should by this, to all our lamentation,

If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

The gods have well prevented it, and Rome

Sits safe and still without him.

Worthy tribunes,

There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,

Reports the Volsces with two several powers

Are entered in the Roman territories,

And with the deepest malice of the war

Destroy what lies before ’em.

’Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Martius’ banishment,

Thrusts forth his horns again into the world,

Which were inshelled when Martius stood for Rome,

And durst not once peep out.

Come, what talk you of Martius?

Go see this rumourer whipped. It cannot be

The Volsces dare break with us.

Cannot be?

We have record that very well it can,

And three examples of the like hath been

Within my age. But reason with the fellow

Before you punish him, where he heard this,

Lest you shall chance to whip your information

And beat the messenger who bids beware

Of what is to be dreaded.

Tell not me.

I know this cannot be.

Not possible.

The nobles in great earnestness are going

All to the Senate House. Some news is coming

That turns their countenances.

’Tis this slave—

Go whip him ’fore the people’s eyes—his raising,

Nothing but his report.

Yes, worthy sir,

The slave’s report is seconded, and more,

More fearful, is delivered.

What more fearful?

It is spoke freely out of many mouths—

How probable I do not know—that Martius,

Joined with Aufidius, leads a power ’gainst Rome

And vows revenge as spacious as between

The young’st and oldest thing.

This is most likely!

Raised only that the weaker sort may wish

Good Martius home again.

The very trick on ’t.

This is unlikely;

He and Aufidius can no more atone

Than violent’st contrariety.

You are sent for to the Senate.

A fearful army, led by Caius Martius

Associated with Aufidius, rages

Upon our territories, and have already

O’erborne their way, consumed with fire and took

What lay before them.

O, you have made good work!

What news? What news?

You have holp to ravish your own daughters and

To melt the city leads upon your pates,

To see your wives dishonoured to your noses—

What’s the news? What’s the news?

Your temples burned in their cement, and

Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined

Into an auger’s bore.

Pray now, your news?—

You have made fair work, I fear me.—Pray, your news?

If Martius should be joined with Volscians—

If?

He is their god; he leads them like a thing

Made by some other deity than Nature,

That shapes man better; and they follow him

Against us brats with no less confidence

Than boys pursuing summer butterflies

Or butchers killing flies.

You have made good work,

You and your apron-men, you that stood so much

Upon the voice of occupation and

The breath of garlic eaters!

He’ll shake your Rome about your ears.

As Hercules did shake down mellow fruit.

You have made fair work.

But is this true, sir?

Ay, and you’ll look pale

Before you find it other. All the regions

Do smilingly revolt, and who resists

Are mocked for valiant ignorance

And perish constant fools. Who is’t can blame him?

Your enemies and his find something in him.

We are all undone unless

The noble man have mercy.

Who shall ask it?

The Tribunes cannot do’t for shame; the people

Deserve such pity of him as the wolf

Does of the shepherds. For his best friends, if they

Should say “Be good to Rome,” they charged him even

As those should do that had deserved his hate

And therein showed like enemies.

’Tis true.

If he were putting to my house the brand

That should consume it, I have not the face

To say “Beseech you, cease.”—You have made fair hands,

You and your crafts! You have crafted fair!

You have brought

A trembling upon Rome such as was never

S’ incapable of help.

Say not we brought it.

How? Was it we? We loved him, but like beasts

And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,

Who did hoot him out o’ th’ city.

But I fear

They’ll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,

The second name of men, obeys his points

As if he were his officer. Desperation

Is all the policy, strength, and defence

That Rome can make against them.

Here comes the clusters.—

And is Aufidius with him? You are they

That made the air unwholesome when you cast

Your stinking, greasy caps in hooting at

Coriolanus’ exile. Now he’s coming,

And not a hair upon a soldier’s head

Which will not prove a whip. As many coxcombs

As you threw caps up will he tumble down

And pay you for your voices. ’Tis no matter.

If he could burn us all into one coal

We have deserved it.

Faith, we hear fearful news.

For mine own part,

When I said banish him, I said ’twas pity.

And so did I.

And so did I. And, to say the truth, so did very many of us. That we

did we did for the best; and though we willingly consented to his

banishment, yet it was against our will.

You are goodly things, you voices!

You have made good work, you and your cry!—

Shall’s to the Capitol?

O, ay, what else?

Go, masters, get you home. Be not dismayed.

These are a side that would be glad to have

This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,

And show no sign of fear.

The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let’s home. I ever said we were

i’ th’ wrong when we banished him.

So did we all. But, come, let’s home.

I do not like this news.

Nor I.

Let’s to the Capitol. Would half my wealth

Would buy this for a lie!

Pray let’s go.