Document:  All > Shakespeare > Tragedies > Coriolanus > Act V, scene III

	[Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others]

CORIOLANUS: We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow
	Set down our host. My partner in this action,
	You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly
	I have borne this business.

AUFIDIUS: Only their ends
	You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
	The general suit of Rome; never admitted
	A private whisper, no, not with such friends
	That thought them sure of you.

CORIOLANUS: This last old man,
	Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
	Loved me above the measure of a father;
	Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
	Was to send him; for whose old love I have,
	Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd
	The first conditions, which they did refuse
	And cannot now accept; to grace him only
	That thought he could do more, a very little
	I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits,
	Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
	Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this?

	[Shout within]

	Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
	In the same time 'tis made? I will not.

	[Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA,
	leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants]

	My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
	Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand
	The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection!
	All bond and privilege of nature, break!
	Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.
	What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
	Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
	Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows;
	As if Olympus to a molehill should
	In supplication nod: and my young boy
	Hath an aspect of intercession, which
	Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces
	Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never
	Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand,
	As if a man were author of himself
	And knew no other kin.

VIRGILIA: My lord and husband!

CORIOLANUS: These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.

VIRGILIA: The sorrow that delivers us thus changed
	Makes you think so.

CORIOLANUS: Like a dull actor now,
	I have forgot my part, and I am out,
	Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
	Forgive my tyranny; but do not say
	For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss
	Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
	Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
	I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
	Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,
	And the most noble mother of the world
	Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth;


	Of thy deep duty more impression show
	Than that of common sons.

VOLUMNIA: O, stand up blest!
	Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,
	I kneel before thee; and unproperly
	Show duty, as mistaken all this while
	Between the child and parent.


CORIOLANUS: What is this?
	Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
	Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
	Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
	Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
	Murdering impossibility, to make
	What cannot be, slight work.

VOLUMNIA: Thou art my warrior;
	I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?

CORIOLANUS: The noble sister of Publicola,
	The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle
	That's curdied by the frost from purest snow
	And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria!

VOLUMNIA: This is a poor epitome of yours,
	Which by the interpretation of full time
	May show like all yourself.

CORIOLANUS: The god of soldiers,
	With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
	Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove
	To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
	Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
	And saving those that eye thee!

VOLUMNIA: Your knee, sirrah.

CORIOLANUS: That's my brave boy!

VOLUMNIA: Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
	Are suitors to you.

CORIOLANUS: I beseech you, peace:
	Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before:
	The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
	Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
	Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
	Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not
	Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
	To ally my rages and revenges with
	Your colder reasons.

VOLUMNIA: O, no more, no more!
	You have said you will not grant us any thing;
	For we have nothing else to ask, but that
	Which you deny already: yet we will ask;
	That, if you fail in our request, the blame
	May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.

CORIOLANUS: Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll
	Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?

VOLUMNIA: Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
	And state of bodies would bewray what life
	We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
	How more unfortunate than all living women
	Are we come hither: since that thy sight,
	which should
	Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance
	with comforts,
	Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;
	Making the mother, wife and child to see
	The son, the husband and the father tearing
	His country's bowels out. And to poor we
	Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
	Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
	That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
	Alas, how can we for our country pray.
	Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
	Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
	The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
	Our comfort in the country. We must find
	An evident calamity, though we had
	Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
	Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
	With manacles thorough our streets, or else
	triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
	And bear the palm for having bravely shed
	Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
	I purpose not to wait on fortune till
	These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
	Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
	Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
	March to assault thy country than to tread--
	Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb,
	That brought thee to this world.

VIRGILIA: Ay, and mine,
	That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
	Living to time.

Young MARCIUS: A' shall not tread on me;
	I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.

CORIOLANUS: Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
	Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
	I have sat too long.


VOLUMNIA: Nay, go not from us thus.
	If it were so that our request did tend
	To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
	The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
	As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit
	Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
	May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans,
	'This we received;' and each in either side
	Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest
	For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,
	The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
	That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
	Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
	Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
	Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
	But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
	Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
	To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son:
	Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
	To imitate the graces of the gods;
	To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
	And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
	That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
	Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
	Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
	He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
	Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
	Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
	More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate
	Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
	Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,
	When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
	Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home,
	Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
	And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
	Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
	That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
	To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
	Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
	To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
	Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
	This is the last: so we will home to Rome,
	And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's:
	This boy, that cannot tell what he would have
	But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship,
	Does reason our petition with more strength
	Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go:
	This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
	His wife is in Corioli and his child
	Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
	I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,
	And then I'll speak a little.

	[He holds her by the hand, silent]

CORIOLANUS: O mother, mother!
	What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
	The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
	They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
	You have won a happy victory to Rome;
	But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it,
	Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
	If not most mortal to him. But, let it come.
	Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
	I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
	Were you in my stead, would you have heard
	A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?

AUFIDIUS: I was moved withal.

CORIOLANUS: I dare be sworn you were:
	And, sir, it is no little thing to make
	Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
	What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part,
	I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you,
	Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife!

AUFIDIUS: [Aside]  I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and
	thy honour
	At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
	Myself a former fortune.

	[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS]

CORIOLANUS: Ay, by and by;


	But we will drink together; and you shall bear
	A better witness back than words, which we,
	On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd.
	Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
	To have a temple built you: all the swords
	In Italy, and her confederate arms,
	Could not have made this peace.



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