Let them pull all about mine ears, present me
Death on the wheel or at wild horses’ heels,
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
That the precipitation might down stretch
Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
Be thus to them.
Let them tear me to pieces, put me to death on the rack or drag me behind horses, Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, So the fall might stretch Below the sight of anyone, yet I will still Be this way to them.
They can torture me, kill me on the rack, drag me to death, bury me under mountains—I don't care. I'll still be exactly who I am to them.
kill me torture me bury me i don't care i'm staying myself
You do the nobler.
You are doing the more noble thing.
That's the more noble choice.
that's noble
I muse my mother
Does not approve me further, who was wont
To call them woollen vassals, things created
To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads
In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder
When one but of my ordinance stood up
To speak of peace or war.
I wonder my mother Does not approve of me further, she who used To call them cheap servants, creatures made To trade with pennies, to bow their heads In gatherings, to yawn, sit still, and stare When someone of my rank stood up To speak of peace or war.
I'm surprised my mother doesn't support me more, since she used to call these people cheap servants—creatures who exist just to make deals, bow in public, and stand there amazed whenever someone of my status spoke.
mom used to hate these people call them cheap servants traders but now she wants me to kiss up to them?
I talk of you.
Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me
False to my nature? Rather say I play
The man I am.
I'm speaking about you. Why did you wish me to be milder? Would you have me act against my nature? No—I simply am the man that I am.
I'm talking about you here. Why do you want me to be softer? You want me to go against everything I'm made of? I'm just being myself—the way I actually am.
why d u want me softer i can't fake my nature i'm just me
O, sir, sir, sir,
I would have had you put your power well on
Before you had worn it out.
Oh, sir, sir, sir, I would have wanted you to use your power carefully Before you had exhausted it.
Oh son, I wish you had used your power more strategically before you wasted it all.
you should've used power smart before you burned it out
Let go.
Let me go.
Let me go.
let go
You might have been enough the man you are
With striving less to be so. Lesser had been
The thwartings of your dispositions if
You had not showed them how ye were disposed
Ere they lacked power to cross you.
You could have been the man you are With less effort. Fewer people would have Thwarted you if You had not shown them your true nature Before they had the power to oppose you.
You could have become who you are without working so hard at it. People wouldn't have fought you so much if you hadn't shown them exactly how stubborn and proud you are before they had the power to push back.
you could've been this guy easier without showing your hand early people wouldn't fight back as hard
Let them hang!
I don't care what happens to them.
Let them face whatever comes.
let them who cares
Ay, and burn too.
Yes, and burn as well.
Yes, and burn too.
and burn yeah
Come, come, you have been too rough, something too rough.
You must return and mend it.
Come, come, you have been too harsh, somewhat too harsh. You must go back and fix it.
Look, you've been way too aggressive. You need to go back and smooth things over.
too harsh go fix it
There’s no remedy,
Unless, by not so doing, our good city
Cleave in the midst and perish.
There is no other solution, Unless, by not doing this, our good city Will split in half and be destroyed.
There's no other way. If you don't do this, the city will tear itself apart and be destroyed.
no choice or the city dies
Pray be counselled.
I have a heart as little apt as yours,
But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
To better vantage.
Please take advice. I have a heart as resistant as yours, But I have a mind that directs my anger To better advantage.
Please listen to me. I'm as stubborn as you are, but I've learned to use my anger more wisely.
listen i'm stubborn too but i use it smarter
Well said, noble woman.
Before he should thus stoop to th’ herd—but that
The violent fit o’ th’ time craves it as physic
For the whole state—I would put mine armour on,
Which I can scarcely bear.
Well said, noble woman. I would never let him stoop to the common people—but the violent crisis of this time demands it as medicine For the whole state—I would put on my armor myself, Which I can barely carry anymore.
Well said. I'd never want him to humble himself to the mob, but this violent moment demands it like a cure for the city. I'd put on my armor myself if I could still carry it.
true this is necessary medicine for the state i'd fight myself if i could
Volumnia's insistence that Coriolanus can go to the Forum and perform respect for the people is the most crucial moment in the play because it forces a choice: either compromise your integrity or lose everything. Volumnia believes in compromise — the idea that you perform respect while maintaining internal contempt, that you act gentle while remaining rigidly yourself. But Coriolanus understands something she doesn't: that performance isn't separate from self. If you perform contempt, you are contemptuous. If you perform respect, you must feel it, or the performance collapses. Volumnia wants her son to split himself in half — public self and private self — but he's constitutionally incapable of this split. By Act 5, when he does try to perform respect (this time for Aufidius and the Volscians), it will destroy him completely.
What must I do?
What should I do then?
What do you want me to do?
what do i do
Return to th’ Tribunes.
Return to the Tribunes.
Go back to the Tribunes.
go back to them
Well, what then? What then?
So what happens next? What happens next?
And then what? What happens then?
then what
Repent what you have spoke.
Express regret for what you have said.
Take back what you said.
take it back
For them? I cannot do it to the gods.
Must I then do’t to them?
Apologize to them? I would not do it even to the gods. Should I then do it for them?
For them? I wouldn't even do it for the gods. Why would I do it for them?
for them? nah i wouldn't even do it for gods
You are too absolute,
Though therein you can never be too noble
But when extremities speak. I have heard you say
Honour and policy, like unsevered friends,
I’ th’ war do grow together. Grant that, and tell me
In peace what each of them by th’ other lose
That they combine not there.
You are too extreme, Though you can never be too noble in that Except when extremity demands. I have heard you say Honor and strategy, like inseparable friends, Grow together in war. Grant that, and tell me In peace what each of them loses by the other That they do not combine there.
You're too extreme, though you can't be too noble about it when times demand it. You've told me that honor and strategy are like friends in war—they work together. So tell me, in peace, what does each one lose if they work together there too?
honor and strategy work together in war why not peace? what's the difference
Tush, tush!
Nonsense, nonsense!
Pfft, that's ridiculous!
whatever no
A good demand.
That is a fair question.
That's a good point.
good question
If it be honour in your wars to seem
The same you are not, which for your best ends
You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse
That it shall hold companionship in peace
With honour as in war, since that to both
It stands in like request?
If it is honorable in your wars to appear Different than you are, which for your own good You do for strategy, how is it any less or worse That it shall exist alongside honor in peace As it does in war, since both require The same thing?
If you think it's honorable to act differently in war than you really are for strategic reasons, how is it shameful to do the same in peace? War and peace both need the same skills, don't they?
you act in war for strategy so act in peace what's different?
Why force you this?
Why are you forcing this on me?
Why are you making me do this?
why force me
Because that now it lies you on to speak
To th’ people, not by your own instruction,
Nor by th’ matter which your heart prompts you,
But with such words that are but rooted in
Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom’s truth.
Now, this no more dishonours you at all
Than to take in a town with gentle words,
Which else would put you to your fortune and
The hazard of much blood.
I would dissemble with my nature where
My fortunes and my friends at stake required
I should do so in honour. I am in this
Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
And you will rather show our general louts
How you can frown than spend a fawn upon ’em
For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
Of what that want might ruin.
Because you must now speak To the people, not by your own rules, Nor by what your heart tells you, But with words that only come from Your tongue, though false and sounds That have no connection to your true heart. Now, this no more shames you at all Than taking a town with kind words, Which otherwise would risk your life and The danger of much blood. I would hide my true nature where My fortune and my friends at stake required I should do so in honor. I am in this Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; And you would rather show the common people How much you despise them than spend a kind word on them For the chance to win their love and protect What their anger might destroy.
Because you have to speak to the people now, not in your own way or what your heart wants, but with words that don't mean anything, that have nothing to do with who you really are. That's not shameful—generals do it all the time when taking cities with diplomacy instead of bloodshed. If my life and my friends were at stake, I'd hide who I really am. Your wife, your son, these senators, all of us are on the line. But you'd rather let them see how much you hate them than give them a kind word to win their support and save us all.
just say what you don't mean for once generals do it all the time our lives depend on it just spend one kind word instead of showing hate
Noble lady!—
Come, go with us; speak fair. You may salve so,
Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
Of what is past.
Noble lady!— Come, go with us; speak kindly. You may heal Not only what is dangerous now, but also The loss of what has passed.
My lady! Come with us and speak nicely. You can fix not just the immediate danger but also save what you've already lost.
let's go speak nice fix the present and maybe save what's lost
I prithee now, my son,
Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand,
And thus far having stretched it—here be with them—
Thy knee bussing the stones—for in such busines
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant
More learned than the ears—waving thy head,
Which often thus correcting thy stout heart,
Now humble as the ripest mulberry
That will not hold the handling. Or say to them
Thou art their soldier and, being bred in broils,
Hast not the soft way, which thou dost confess
Were fit for thee to use, as they to claim,
In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame
Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far
As thou hast power and person.
I beg you now, my son, Go to them with this hat in your hand, And having removed it like this—be with them— Your knee touching the ground—for in such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant Understand more than the ears—bowing your head, Which by doing so corrects your proud heart, Now humble as the ripest mulberry That cannot hold up under handling. Or tell them You are their soldier and, being raised in battle, Have not learned the soft way, which you yourself know Would be right for you to use, as they have a right to ask, In seeking their goodwill; but you will make Yourself, truly, from now on theirs, as much As you have the power and body to do.
Please, my son, go to them with your hat in your hand. Take it off when you see them. Bow your knee to them—because actions speak louder than words, and people see more than they hear. Lower your head, humble yourself like an overripe fruit that falls apart in your hand. Tell them you're their soldier, that you were raised for war and don't know how to be polite, which you admit you should learn to do. Tell them you'll change, that from now on you'll be theirs, as much as you can manage.
go with hat in hand bow down kiss ground actions speak louder be humble like ripe fruit tell them you're their soldier you'll change
This but done
Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
For they have pardons, being asked, as free
As words to little purpose.
If this is done Even as she says, their hearts would be yours; Because they give forgiveness when asked, as readily As people speak words that mean little.
If you just do what she says, their hearts will be yours. They forgive as easily as they say meaningless words.
do this they'll forgive they're easy
Prithee now,
Go, and be ruled; although I know thou hadst rather
Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
Than flatter him in a bower.
I beg you now, Go, and let yourself be guided; although I know you would rather Follow your enemy into a fiery pit Than flatter him in a garden.
Please, just go and do it. I know you'd rather follow your enemy into hell than flatter him, but go.
just go i know you'd rather die than kiss up
Scene 3-2 is crucial because it establishes that what Rome is asking of Coriolanus is not a small thing — it's not just 'be polite to people you disagree with.' It's a complete performance of humility, respect, and deference to an authority (the people) that he regards as illegitimate. A modern parallel: asking a revolutionary to go on television and praise the system he's trying to overthrow. The request itself is a betrayal of principle. What makes 3-2 so effective is that Volumnia knows this, and commands it anyway. She's not naive — she's ruthless. She sees her son's authenticity as a failure of discipline, a kind of spoiled refusal to do what's necessary. She loves him; she's also willing to sacrifice his integrity to save his life. And he, briefly, agrees. But the agreement is already hollow. By the time he reaches the Forum, his contempt for the ritual — and for those participating in it — will break through again.
Here is Cominius.
Cominius is here.
Here comes Cominius.
cominius showed up
I have been i’ th’ marketplace; and, sir, ’tis fit
You make strong party or defend yourself
By calmness or by absence. All’s in anger.
I have been in the marketplace; and, sir, it is right You gather strong supporters or defend yourself With calmness or by staying away. Everything is anger.
I was just at the marketplace. You need to either gather supporters, stay calm, or stay away. Everything there is rage.
marketplace is rage gather support or stay away or be calm
Only fair speech.
Use only courteous words.
Just speak respectfully.
be nice be polite
I think ’twill serve, if he
Can thereto frame his spirit.
I think it will work, if he Can adjust his mind to it.
I think it will work if he can manage to do it.
if he can pull it off
He must, and will.—
Prithee, now, say you will, and go about it.
He must, and will.— Please, now, say you will, and start doing it.
He will do it.—Come on, just say you'll do it and go.
say yes go do it
Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? Must I
With my base tongue give to my noble heart
A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do’t.
Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
This mould of Martius, they to dust should grind it
And throw’t against the wind. To th’ marketplace!
You have put me now to such a part which never
I shall discharge to th’ life.
Must I go show them my bare head? Must I With my crude voice give to my noble heart A lie that it must accept? Well, I will do it. Yet, if there was only this single thing to lose, This form of Coriolanus, they should grind it to dust And throw it to the wind. To the marketplace! You have given me now a role which never I shall perform perfectly.
Do I have to go show them I'm humble? Do I have to use my low voice to lie to my own heart? Fine, I'll do it. But if I had to choose between losing myself and dying, I'd die. You've put me in a role I can never play right.
show them my bare head lie to myself fine i'll lose myself to dust this role i can't play
Come, come, we’ll prompt you.
Come, come, we will help you.
Come on, we'll help you out.
we'll help
I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said
My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
To have my praise for this, perform a part
Thou hast not done before.
I beg you now, sweet son, as you have said My praise made you first a soldier, so, To earn my praise for this, perform a role You have not done before.
My son, you said my encouragement made you a soldier. Now do this one more thing you've never done to earn my praise.
you said i made you a soldier do this to earn my praise
Well, I must do’t.
Away, my disposition, and possess me
Some harlot’s spirit! My throat of war be turned,
Which choired with my drum, into a pipe
Small as an eunuch or the virgin voice
That babies lulls asleep! The smiles of knaves
Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys’ tears take up
The glasses of my sight! A beggar’s tongue
Make motion through my lips, and my armed knees,
Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his
That hath received an alms! I will not do’t,
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
And, by my body’s action, teach my mind
A most inherent baseness.
Well, I must do it. Leave me, my true nature, and take me over, Some harlot's spirit! My warrior's throat be changed, Which sang with my drum, into a small pipe Small as a eunuch or the soft voice That rocks babies to sleep! The smiles of crooks Will crowd my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears fill My eyes! A beggar's voice Will move through my lips, and my warrior knees, Which only bent in my saddle, will bend like those Of someone who has received charity! I will not do it, For I would stop honoring my own truth And, by my body's actions, teach my mind A deep and basic shame.
I have to do it. Goodbye to who I really am. Let some whore's spirit take me over. My warrior's voice, that used to ring out in battle, will become squeaky and soft like a eunuch's, or gentle like a voice singing babies to sleep. I'll have to smile like a criminal, cry like a schoolboy. I'll sound like a beggar, bend my knees like someone begging for money. No, I can't do it. It would destroy my honor and teach my own mind to be ashamed of itself.
my warrior voice become a squeaky pipe smile like a liar cry like a kid beg like a beggar no i won't dishonor myself
At thy choice, then.
To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin. Let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list.
Thy valiantness was mine; thou suck’dst it from me,
But owe thy pride thyself.
Then it is your choice. To ask you to do this brings me more shame Than you would face from them. Let all be ruined. Let Your mother feel your pride rather than fear Your dangerous stubbornness, for I face death With as much courage as you do. Do as you wish. Your bravery came from me; you got it from me, But your pride is your own fault.
Then it's your choice. But asking you shames me more than anything they could do to you. Let it all fall apart. I'd rather see your pride than be afraid of your stubbornness, because I'm not afraid of death like you are. Do what you want. You got your courage from me, but that pride of yours is all yours.
your choice asking you shames me let it all burn i'm not scared your courage is mine proud of you
Pray, be content.
Mother, I am going to the marketplace.
Chide me no more. I’ll mountebank their loves,
Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved
Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going.
Commend me to my wife. I’ll return consul,
Or never trust to what my tongue can do
I’ th’ way of flattery further.
Please, be satisfied. Mother, I am going to the marketplace. Do not scold me anymore. I will trick them into loving me, Dupe their hearts from them, and come home beloved By all the workers in Rome. Look, I am going. Tell my wife I send my regards. I will return as consul, Or never trust what my tongue can do With flattery again.
Please stop. Mother, I'm going to the marketplace. Don't lecture me anymore. I'll con them into loving me, trick their hearts away from them, and come home beloved by all of Rome. Look, I'm going. Tell my wife hello. I'll come back as consul or never bother with flattery again.
i'm doing it stop talking i'll trick them come home loved consul or nothing
Do your will.
Do as you wish.
Do whatever you want.
do what you want
Away! The Tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself
To answer mildly, for they are prepared
With accusations, as I hear, more strong
Than are upon you yet.
Go! The Tribunes are waiting for you. Prepare yourself To answer gently, for they have ready Accusations, as I hear, stronger Than what you are facing now.
Go! The Tribunes are waiting. Get ready to answer them gently, because they've got accusations lined up that are worse than what you know about.
tribunes waiting they got worse accusations be nice
The word is “mildly.” Pray you, let us go.
Let them accuse me by invention, I
Will answer in mine honour.
The word is "gently." I beg you, let us go. Let them accuse me with lies, I Will answer with honor.
So you want gentle? Fine. Let's go. Let them make up accusations, I'll answer with honor.
gentle, got it let's go accuse me all you want
Ay, but mildly.
Yes, but do it gently.
Yeah, but keep it calm.
but do it gentle
Well, mildly be it, then. Mildly.
Well, let it be gentle then. Gently.
Fine. Gently it is. Gently.
fine gentle gentle
The Reckoning
Scene 3-2 is the play's emotional centre: the moment where Coriolanus is forced to choose between integrity and survival, and chooses neither. He agrees to act gentle and conciliatory to the people — but he will do it like an actor playing a part, not like a man genuinely changing his mind. Volumnia's argument — that he can preserve his real nature while performing gentleness — will prove impossible. You cannot play contempt while pretending respect. The scene shows the limits of Volumnia's power: she can force his compliance, but she cannot make him capable of the performance she's demanding.
If this happened today…
A mother tells her son: you just blew your job offer because you were rude. Go back, apologize, be nice, show respect. The son says: I can't fake it, I hate them. The mother says: fake it. Do it for me. He says okay. But they both know he's terrible at lying. He agrees to try but the second he walks into that room, his contempt will show. And it will.