Document:  All > Shakespeare > Tragedies > Coriolanus > Act I, scene I

Jump to: the first appearance of what_he_cannot_help_in_his_nature




	[Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves,
	clubs, and other weapons]

First Citizen: Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

All: Speak, speak.

First Citizen: You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?

All: Resolved. resolved.

First Citizen: First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.

All: We know't, we know't.

First Citizen: 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!

Second Citizen: One word, good citizens.

First Citizen: 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 leanness that
	afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an
	inventory to particularise 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.

Second Citizen: Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?

All: Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty.

Second Citizen: Consider you what services he has done for his country?

First Citizen: Very well; and could be content to give him good
	report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud.

Second Citizen: Nay, but speak not maliciously.

First Citizen: 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 till the altitude of his virtue.

Second Citizen: What he cannot help in his nature, you account a
	vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.

First Citizen: If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations;
	he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition.

	[Shouts within]

	What shouts are these? The other side o' the city
	is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!

All: Come, come.

First Citizen: Soft! who comes here?

	[Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA]

Second Citizen: Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved
	the people.

First Citizen: He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so!

MENENIUS: What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you
	With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.

First Citizen: Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have
	had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do,
	which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor
	suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we
	have strong arms too.

MENENIUS: Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
	Will you undo yourselves?

First Citizen: We cannot, sir, we are undone already.

MENENIUS: I tell you, friends, most charitable care
	Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
	Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
	Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
	Against the Roman state, whose course will on
	The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
	Of more strong link asunder than can ever
	Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
	The gods, not the patricians, make it, and
	Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
	You are transported by calamity
	Thither where more attends you, and you slander
	The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,
	When you curse them as enemies.

First Citizen: Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us
	yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses
	crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to
	support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act
	established against the rich, and provide more
	piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain
	the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and
	there's all the love they bear us.

MENENIUS: 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 Citizen: 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.

MENENIUS: There was a time when all the body's members
	Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it:
	That only like a gulf it did remain
	I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive,
	Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
	Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments
	Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
	And, mutually participate, did minister
	Unto the appetite and affection common
	Of the whole body. The belly answer'd--

First Citizen: Well, sir, what answer made the belly?

MENENIUS: Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
	Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus--
	For, look you, I may make the belly smile
	As well as speak--it tauntingly replied
	To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
	That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
	As you malign our senators for that
	They are not such as you.

First Citizen: Your belly's answer? What!
	The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
	The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
	Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter.
	With other muniments and petty helps
	In this our fabric, if that they--

MENENIUS: What then?
	'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then?

First Citizen: Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,
	Who is the sink o' the body,--

MENENIUS: Well, what then?

First Citizen: The former agents, if they did complain,
	What could the belly answer?

MENENIUS: I will tell you
	If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little--
	Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.

First Citizen: Ye're long about it.

MENENIUS: Note me this, good friend;
	Your most grave belly was deliberate,
	Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:
	'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 brain;
	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 once,
	You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,--

First Citizen: Ay, sir; well, well.

MENENIUS: 'Though all at once cannot
	See what I do deliver out to each,
	Yet I can make my audit up, that all
	From me do back receive the flour of all,
	And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't?

First Citizen: It was an answer: how apply you this?

MENENIUS: The senators of Rome are this good belly,
	And you the mutinous members; for examine
	Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly
	Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find
	No public benefit which you receive
	But it proceeds or comes from them to you
	And no way from yourselves. What do you think,
	You, the great toe of this assembly?

First Citizen: I the great toe! why the great toe?

MENENIUS: For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest,
	Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost:
	Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
	Lead'st first to win some vantage.
	But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs:
	Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
	The one side must have bale.

	[Enter CAIUS MARCIUS]

		       Hail, noble Marcius!

MARCIUS: Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,
	That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
	Make yourselves scabs?

First Citizen: We have ever your good word.

MARCIUS: He that will give good words to thee will flatter
	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 to you,
	Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
	Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,
	Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
	Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
	To make him worthy whose offence subdues him
	And curse that justice did it.
	Who deserves greatness
	Deserves your hate; and your affections are
	A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
	Which would increase his evil. He that depends
	Upon your favours swims with fins of lead
	And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! 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,
	That in these several places of the city
	You cry against the noble senate, who,
	Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
	Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?

MENENIUS: For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,
	The city is well stored.

MARCIUS: 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,
	Who thrives and who declines; side factions
	and give out
	Conjectural marriages; making parties strong
	And feebling such as stand not in their liking
	Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's
	grain enough!
	Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,
	And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry
	With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
	As I could pick my lance.

MENENIUS: Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
	For though abundantly they lack discretion,
	Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
	What says the other troop?

MARCIUS: They are dissolved: hang 'em!
	They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs,
	That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
	That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
	Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds
	They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,
	And a petition granted them, a strange one--
	To break the heart of generosity,
	And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps
	As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,
	Shouting their emulation.

MENENIUS: What is granted them?

MARCIUS: Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
	Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus,
	Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath!
	The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
	Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time
	Win upon power and throw forth greater themes
	For insurrection's arguing.

MENENIUS: This is strange.

MARCIUS: Go, get you home, you fragments!

	[Enter a Messenger, hastily]

Messenger: Where's Caius Marcius?

MARCIUS: Here: what's the matter?

Messenger: The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.

MARCIUS: I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent
	Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.

	[Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators;
	JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS]

First Senator: Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us;
	The Volsces are in arms.

MARCIUS: They have a leader,
	Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't.
	I sin in envying his nobility,
	And were I any thing but what I am,
	I would wish me only he.

COMINIUS: You have fought together.

MARCIUS: Were half to half the world by the ears and he.
	Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make
	Only my wars with him: he is a lion
	That I am proud to hunt.

First Senator: Then, worthy Marcius,
	Attend upon Cominius to these wars.

COMINIUS: It is your former promise.

MARCIUS: Sir, it is;
	And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou
	Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.
	What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?

TITUS: No, Caius Marcius;
	I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other,
	Ere stay behind this business.

MENENIUS: O, true-bred!

First Senator: Your company to the Capitol; where, I know,
	Our greatest friends attend us.

TITUS: [To COMINIUS]                Lead you on.

	[To MARCIUS]  Follow Cominius; we must follow you;
	Right worthy you priority.

COMINIUS: Noble Marcius!

First Senator: [To the Citizens]  Hence to your homes; be gone!

MARCIUS: Nay, let them follow:
	The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither
	To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners,
	Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.

	[Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS
	and BRUTUS]

SICINIUS: Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?

BRUTUS: He has no equal.

SICINIUS: When we were chosen tribunes for the people,--

BRUTUS: Mark'd you his lip and eyes?

SICINIUS: Nay. but his taunts.

BRUTUS: Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.

SICINIUS: Be-mock the modest moon.

BRUTUS: The present wars devour him: he is grown
	Too proud to be so valiant.

SICINIUS: Such a nature,
	Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
	Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder
	His insolence can brook to be commanded
	Under Cominius.

BRUTUS: Fame, at the which he aims,
	In whom already he's well graced, can not
	Better be held nor more attain'd than by
	A place below the first: for what miscarries
	Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
	To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure
	Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he
	Had borne the business!'

SICINIUS: Besides, if things go well,
	Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall
	Of his demerits rob Cominius.

BRUTUS: Come:
	Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius.
	Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults
	To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed
	In aught he merit not.

SICINIUS: Let's hence, and hear
	How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
	More than his singularity, he goes
	Upon this present action.

BRUTUS: Lets along.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS






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