Bid them all home. He’s gone, and we’ll no further.
The nobility are vexed, whom we see have sided
In his behalf.
Bid them all home. He’s gone, and we’ll no further. The nobility are vexed, whom we see have sided In his behalf.
Bid them all home. He’s gone, and we’ll no further. The nobility are vexed, whom we see have sided In his behalf.
bid them all home. he’s gone, and we’ll no further. the nobi
Now we have shown our power,
Let us seem humbler after it is done
Than when it was a-doing.
Now we have shown our power, Let us seem humbler after it is done Than when it was a-doing.
Now we have shown our power, Let us seem humbler after it is done Than when it was a-doing.
now we have shown our power, let us seem humbler after it is
Bid them home.
Say their great enemy is gone, and they
Stand in their ancient strength.
Bid them home. Say their great enemy is gone, and they Stand in their ancient strength.
Bid them home. Say their great enemy is gone, and they Stand in their ancient strength.
bid them home. say their great enemy is gone, and they stand
Dismiss them home.
Dismiss them home.
Dismiss them home.
dismiss them home.
Let’s not meet her.
Let’s not meet her.
Let’s not meet her.
let’s not meet her.
Why?
Why?
Why?
why?
They say she’s mad.
They say she’s mad.
They say she’s mad.
they say she’s mad.
They have ta’en note of us. Keep on your way.
They have ta’en note of us. Keep on your way.
They have ta’en note of us. Keep on your way.
they have ta’en note of us. keep on your way.
O, you’re well met. The hoarded plague o’ th’ gods
Requite your love!
O, you’re well met. The hoarded plague o’ th’ gods Requite your love!
O, you’re well met. The hoarded plague o’ th’ gods Requite your love!
o, you’re well met. the hoarded plague o’ th’ gods requite y
What's fascinating about this scene is that Volumnia is doing both things at once: she is genuinely destroyed by her son's banishment, and she is weaponizing that destruction. She doesn't hide her tears — she channels them into curses so precise they feel almost juridical. When Sicinius calls her 'mad,' he's using a standard tactic for dismissing inconvenient women: if you can't refute what she's saying, call her unhinged. But Volumnia is entirely in control of every word she delivers. She knows exactly where to hit. The irony is that the woman who raised the most emotionally inflexible man in Rome is now showing more emotional range than any other character in the play. She weeps. She curses. She mocks. She compares. She ends with a metaphor that perfectly describes self-consuming grief. Coriolanus can't do any of this.
Peace, peace! Be not so loud.
Peace, peace! Be not so loud.
Peace, peace! Be not so loud.
peace, peace! be not so loud.
If that I could for weeping, you should hear—
Nay, and you shall hear some. [_To Sicinius_.] Will you be gone?
If that I could for weeping, you should hear— Nay, and you shall hear some. [_To Sicinius_.] Will you be gone?
If that I could for weeping, you should hear— Nay, and you shall hear some. [_To Sicinius_.] Will you be gone?
if that i could for weeping, you should hear— nay, and you s
To say so to my husband.
To say so to my husband.
To say so to my husband.
to say so to my husband.
Are you mankind?
Are you mankind?
Are you mankind?
are you mankind?
Ay, fool, is that a shame? Note but this, fool.
Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship
To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
Than thou hast spoken words?
Ay, fool, is that a shame? Note but this, fool. Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship To banish him that struck more blows for Rome Than thou hast spoken words?
Ay, fool, is that a shame? Note but this, fool. Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship To banish him that struck more blows for Rome Than thou hast spoken words?
ay, fool, is that a shame? note but this, fool. was not a ma
O blessed heavens!
O blessed heavens!
O blessed heavens!
o blessed heavens!
More noble blows than ever thou wise words,
And for Rome’s good. I’ll tell thee what—yet go.
Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son
Were in Arabia and thy tribe before him,
His good sword in his hand.
More noble blows than ever thou wise words, And for Rome’s good. I’ll tell thee what—yet go. Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son Were in Arabia and thy tribe before him, His good sword in his hand.
More noble blows than ever thou wise words, And for Rome’s good. I’ll tell thee what—yet go. Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son Were in Arabia and thy tribe before him, His good sword in his hand.
more noble blows than ever thou wise words, and for rome’s g
What then?
What then?
What then?
what then?
What then?
He’d make an end of thy posterity.
What then? He’d make an end of thy posterity.
What then? He’d make an end of thy posterity.
what then? he’d make an end of thy posterity.
Bastards and all.
Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
Bastards and all. Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
Bastards and all. Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
bastards and all. good man, the wounds that he does bear for
Come, come, peace.
Come, come, peace.
Come, come, peace.
come, come, peace.
I would he had continued to his country
As he began, and not unknit himself
The noble knot he made.
I would he had continued to his country As he began, and not unknit himself The noble knot he made.
I would he had continued to his country As he began, and not unknit himself The noble knot he made.
i would he had continued to his country as he began, and not
In a scene dominated by Volumnia's tirade, Virgilia says exactly one sentence: 'To say that to my husband.' It arrives after Volumnia wishes she had the power to make the tribunes stay — and it's Virgilia completing the thought. She doesn't wish Coriolanus were here to fight the tribunes. She wishes she could make him stay. This is the quiet, devastating precision of Virgilia throughout the play: she says almost nothing, and what she says is always exactly the right emotional note that Volumnia is too loud to hit. While Volumnia performs her grief in public, Virgilia carries hers in silence. Shakespeare gives these two women almost opposite registers — one full-throated fury, one private devastation — and both are completely real.
I would he had.
I would he had.
I would he had.
i would he had.
“I would he had?” ’Twas you incensed the rabble.
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth
As I can of those mysteries which heaven
Will not have Earth to know.
“I would he had?” ’Twas you incensed the rabble. Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth As I can of those mysteries which heaven Will not have Earth to know.
“I would he had?” ’Twas you incensed the rabble. Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth As I can of those mysteries which heaven Will not have Earth to know.
“i would he had?” ’twas you incensed the rabble. cats, that
Pray, let’s go.
Pray, let’s go.
Pray, let’s go.
pray, let’s go.
Now, pray, sir, get you gone.
You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:
As far as doth the Capitol exceed
The meanest house in Rome, so far my son—
This lady’s husband here, this, do you see?—
Whom you have banished, does exceed you all.
Now, pray, sir, get you gone. You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this: As far as doth the Capitol exceed The meanest house in Rome, so far my son— This lady’s husband here, this, do you see?— Whom you have banished, does exceed you all.
Now, pray, sir, get you gone. You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this: As far as doth the Capitol exceed The meanest house in Rome, so far my son— This lady’s husband here, this, do you see?— Whom you have banished, does exceed you all.
now, pray, sir, get you gone. you have done a brave deed. er
Well, well, we’ll leave you.
Well, well, we’ll leave you.
Well, well, we’ll leave you.
well, well, we’ll leave you.
Why stay we to be baited
With one that wants her wits?
Why stay we to be baited With one that wants her wits?
Why stay we to be baited With one that wants her wits?
why stay we to be baited with one that wants her wits?
Take my prayers with you.
I would the gods had nothing else to do
But to confirm my curses. Could I meet ’em
But once a day, it would unclog my heart
Of what lies heavy to’t.
Take my prayers with you. I would the gods had nothing else to do But to confirm my curses. Could I meet ’em But once a day, it would unclog my heart Of what lies heavy to’t.
Take my prayers with you. I would the gods had nothing else to do But to confirm my curses. Could I meet ’em But once a day, it would unclog my heart Of what lies heavy to’t.
take my prayers with you. i would the gods had nothing else
You have told them home,
And, by my troth, you have cause. You’ll sup with me?
You have told them home, And, by my troth, you have cause. You’ll sup with me?
You have told them home, And, by my troth, you have cause. You’ll sup with me?
you have told them home, and, by my troth, you have cause. y
Anger’s my meat. I sup upon myself
And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let’s go.
Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do,
In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
Anger’s my meat. I sup upon myself And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let’s go. Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do, In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
Anger’s my meat. I sup upon myself And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let’s go. Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do, In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
anger’s my meat. i sup upon myself and so shall starve with
Fie, fie, fie!
Fie, fie, fie!
Fie, fie, fie!
fie, fie, fie!
The Reckoning
The tribunes are enjoying their win — Rome is peaceful, the problem has been exported. Then they run into the problem's mother. What follows is one of the most satisfying verbal maulings in Shakespeare: Volumnia turns her grief into a weapon and uses it on the men who caused it. Sicinius calls her 'mad.' She is not mad. She is exact, controlled, and devastating. The scene ends with her line 'Anger's my meat' — one of the great compressed images in the play.
If this happened today…
Two politicians who just forced a decorated general's resignation walk out of the Senate building and run directly into the general's mother on the street. They try to keep walking. She plants herself in their path. She tells them exactly what her son did for this country, exactly what they are, exactly what they've done — and does it in front of cameras. They mumble that she must be unstable. She's sharper than either of them. Her daughter-in-law, who never speaks, adds one sentence that lands like a blade. The politicians retreat.