1

You must report to the Volcian lords, how plainly 1
I have borne this business.

Auf.
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.

This last old man,

Cor. 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 fram'd, and in her hand The grand-child 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

How plainly is how openly, how remotely from artifice or concealment.

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 Volces
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.

Vir.

My lord and husband!

Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
Vir. The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd,
Makes think so 2.
you

Cor.
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out3,
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
I carried from thee, dear;
Hath virgin'd it e'er since.

4

of heaven, that kiss and my true lip

You gods! I prate,

And the most noble mother of the world
Leave unsaluted: Sink, my knee, i'the earth;

[Kneels.

up bless'd!

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

2. Virgilia makes a voluntary misinterpretation of her husband's words. He says, "These eyes are not the same," meaning that he saw things with other eyes, or other dispositions. She lays hold on the word eyes, to turn his attention on their present appearance.'-JOHNSON.

3

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part.'

Shakspeare's twenty-third Sonnet.

4 JUNO, the guardian of marriage, and consequently the avenger of connubial perfidy.

Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,'
I kneel before thee; and unproperly
Show duty, as mistaken all the while
Between the child and parent.

[Kneels.

Cor.
What is this?
Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach 5
Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
Murd'ring impossibility, to make
What cannot be, slight work.

Vol.

Thou art my warrior;
I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
Cor. The noble sister of Publicola,

The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle,
That's curded by the frost from purest snow,
And hangs on Dian's temple: Dear Valeria!
Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,

Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

Cor.

The god of soldiers, With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

5 The hungry beach is the sterile beach; hungry soil, and hungry gravel, are common phrases. If it be necessary to seek a more recondite meaning, the shore hungry, or eager for shipwrecks, littus avarum, will serve.

6

Though the scheme to solicit Coriolanus was originally proposed by Valeria, Plutarch has allotted her no address when she appears with his wife and mother on this occasion. The poet has followed him. Some lady of the name of Valeria was one of the great examples of chastity held out by the writers of the middle age. The following beautiful lines, from Shirley's Gentleman of Venice, in praise of a lady's chastity, deserve to be cited :

thou art chaste

As the white down of heaven, whose feathers play
Upon the wings of the cold winter's gale,

Trembling with fear to touch th' impurer earth.'

7 This is inserted with great decorum. Jupiter was the tutelary god of Rome.

Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou may'st

prove

To shame unvulnerable, and stick i'the wars
Like a great seamark, standing every flaw 8.
And saving those that eye thee!

Vol.

Cor. That's my brave boy.

Your knee, sirrah.

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

Cor.

I beseech you, peace:

Or, if you'd ask, remember this before;

The things, 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 mechanicks :-Tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: Desire not

To allay my rages and

Your colder reasons.

Vol.

revenges,

with

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

8 A flaw is a violent blast or sudden gust of wind. Carew thus describes it, in his Survey of Cornwall:- One kind of these storms they call a flaw, or flaugh, which is a mighty gale of wind passing suddenly to the shore, and working strong effects upon whatsoever it encounters in its way.' The word is not obsolete, as stated in Todd's Johnson: it will be found in the interesting Journal of Captain Hall, 1824, vol. i. p. 4, and in Captain Lyon's Narrative of his attempt to reach Repulse Bay, 1824. There a corresponding thought in Shakspeare's hundred and sixteenth

sonnet:

"O no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken.'

Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our

raiment9,

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 com-
forts,

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 through 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 10: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts,
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner

9 This speech is very closely taken from North's Plutarch, the poet has done little more than throw the very words into blank

verse.

10 i. e. conclude, end. So in King Henry IV. Part II.:'Tell thy friend sickness have determin'd me.'