Act 3. Scene I

SCENE I. Rome. A street.

Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators
CORIOLANUS
Tullus Aufidius then had made new head?

LARTIUS
He had, my lord; and that it was which caused
Our swifter composition.

CORIOLANUS
So then the Volsces stand but as at first,
Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road.
Upon's again.

COMINIUS
They are worn, lord consul, so,
That we shall hardly in our ages see
Their banners wave again.

CORIOLANUS
Saw you Aufidius?

LARTIUS
On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse
Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely
Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium.

CORIOLANUS
Spoke he of me?

LARTIUS
He did, my lord.

CORIOLANUS
How? what?

LARTIUS
How often he had met you, sword to sword;
That of all things upon the earth he hated
Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes
To hopeless restitution, so he might
Be call'd your vanquisher.

CORIOLANUS
At Antium lives he?

LARTIUS
At Antium.

CORIOLANUS
I wish I had a cause to seek him there,
To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.

Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS

Behold, these are the tribunes of the people,
The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them;
For they do prank them in authority,
Against all noble sufferance.

SICINIUS
Pass no further.

CORIOLANUS
Ha! what is that?

BRUTUS
It will be dangerous to go on: no further.

CORIOLANUS
What makes this change?

MENENIUS
The matter?

COMINIUS
Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common?

BRUTUS
Cominius, no.

CORIOLANUS
Have I had children's voices?

First Senator
Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place.

BRUTUS
The people are incensed against him.

SICINIUS
Stop,
Or all will fall in broil.

CORIOLANUS
Are these your herd?
Must these have voices, that can yield them now
And straight disclaim their tongues? What are
your offices?
You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
Have you not set them on?

MENENIUS
Be calm, be calm.

CORIOLANUS
It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot,
To curb the will of the nobility:
Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule
Nor ever will be ruled.

BRUTUS
Call't not a plot:
The people cry you mock'd them, and of late,
When corn was given them gratis, you repined;
Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them
Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.

CORIOLANUS