No, I’ll not go. You hear what he hath said
Which was sometime his general, who loved him
In a most dear particular. He called me father,
But what o’ that? Go you that banished him;
A mile before his tent, fall down, and knee
The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coyed
To hear Cominius speak, I’ll keep at home.
No, I won't go. You heard what he said - the man who was once his general and loved him deeply. He called me father, but so what? The rest of you who banished him, go crawl a mile to his tent on your knees and beg for his mercy. But if he refused to listen to Cominius, I'm staying home.
No way. Look, he said all that to his old general who he actually cared about - and the guy called me his father, which means nothing apparently. You lot banished him, so you go crawl to his tent and beg. But if he wouldn't even listen to Cominius, there's no point me going.
nah not going dude called me father but doesnt care if he wont listen to cominius why would he listen to me
He would not seem to know me.
He pretended not to recognize me.
He just acted like he didn't know who I was.
he acted like hed never met me
Do you hear?
Do you hear?
Do you hear?
do you hear?
Yet one time he did call me by my name.
I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
That we have bled together. “Coriolanus”
He would not answer to, forbade all names.
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
Till he had forged himself a name i’ th’ fire
Of burning Rome.
One time he did use my name. I reminded him of how we know each other, the blood we've shed together. But when I said 'Coriolanus,' he wouldn't answer to it - he forbade all names. He was nothing, without title, until he forged himself a name in the fire of burning Rome.
Once he did say my name. I tried reminding him we've been through things together, fought side by side. But he just wouldn't respond to 'Coriolanus' - he said names didn't matter. He was basically nothing until he created himself by destroying Rome.
i reminded him we fought together but he wont respond to his own name burning rome made him someone
Why, so; you have made good work!
A pair of tribunes that have wracked Rome
To make coals cheap! A noble memory!
Well then! You've done great work! A pair of tribunes who've destroyed Rome to make charcoal cheap! What a noble legacy!
So there it is! You've done a fantastic job - two tribunes who've literally wrecked the whole city just to bring down the price of charcoal. What a glorious achievement!
wow great work destroying rome for cheaper charcoal very noble
I minded him how royal ’twas to pardon
When it was less expected. He replied
It was a bare petition of a state
To one whom they had punished.
I reminded him how noble it is to forgive when nobody expects it. He replied that it would be a mere formality from a state to someone they had already punished.
I told him it's really kingly to show mercy when people don't expect it. He said that would just be some state going through the motions with someone they already condemned.
i told him forgiving would be kingly he said theyd just be going through motions
Very well.
Could he say less?
Right. Could he have said anything else?
So what? What else was he supposed to say?
what else would he say
I offered to awaken his regard
For’s private friends. His answer to me was
He could not stay to pick them in a pile
Of noisome musty chaff. He said ’twas folly
For one poor grain or two to leave unburnt
And still to nose th’ offence.
I tried to stir up his care for his personal friends. He answered that he couldn't stop to pick them out from a pile of stinking, moldy waste. He said it would be foolish to leave one or two good grains unburnt and still smell the offense.
I tried to remind him to care about his friends. He said he couldn't waste time sifting through them in that pile of rotten trash. According to him, it's stupid to leave even a couple of good ones unburned and still smell the stench.
i reminded him of his friends he said theyre garbage even leaving two unburned still stinks
For one poor grain or two!
I am one of those! His mother, wife, his child,
And this brave fellow too, we are the grains;
You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt
Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.
One or two grains! I'm one of those! His mother, his wife, his child, and this good man too - we're the good grains. You're the rotten waste, and you stink so high it reaches above the moon. We have to be destroyed because of you.
One or two grains! I'm one of them! His mother, his wife, his child, and this good man - we're the good grains. You're the garbage, and you reek so bad it goes up past the moon. We're getting destroyed because of you.
thats me right there his family and me are the good ones you guys are the trash that stinks to the moon we burn because of you
Nay, pray, be patient. If you refuse your aid
In this so-never-needed help, yet do not
Upbraid’s with our distress. But sure, if you
Would be your country’s pleader, your good tongue,
More than the instant army we can make,
Might stop our countryman.
Please, be patient. If you refuse to help - which we desperately need - don't blame us for our trouble. But truly, if you'd speak for your country, your voice, more than any army we could quickly raise, might stop our countryman.
Look, just be patient. If you won't help - and we really need you to - don't hold our suffering against us. But honestly, if you'd argue for the country, your words could do more than any army we could throw together to stop Coriolanus.
be patient please we need your help your voice could stop him more than any army
No, I’ll not meddle.
No, I won't get involved.
No, I'm staying out of it.
nah im not getting involved
Menenius's plan — catch Coriolanus after a good meal and wine, when the blood is warm and the soul more generous — is both comic and revealing. It's the politician's view of human nature: that most decisions, even large ones, are made in bodies with physiological states. The 'priestly fast' makes you cold and hard; the well-fed man forgives. This is not cynicism for Menenius — it's his genuine philosophy, the same pragmatism that underlies his belly-and-members speech in 1-1. He understands that people, including Coriolanus, are not purely rational. The problem is that Coriolanus, in this moment, is operating at a level beyond appetite. The man who sits 'in gold' with eyes 'red as 'twould burn Rome' has moved out of reach of Menenius's theory.
Pray you, go to him.
Please, go to him.
Come on, just go see him.
please just go talk to him
What should I do?
What am I supposed to do?
What do you want me to do?
what do u want me to do
Only make trial what your love can do
For Rome, towards Martius.
Just try to see what your affection can accomplish for Rome, toward Martius.
Just test what your care for Rome can do to reach Martius.
show what u care about to help rome with martius
Well, and say that Martius
Return me, as Cominius is returned, unheard,
What then? But as a discontented friend,
Grief-shot with his unkindness? Say’t be so?
Well, what if Martius sends me back, just like he did Cominius, without listening to me? What then? Would I come back just as an unhappy friend, wounded by his cruelty? Is that how it would be?
But what if Martius just blows me off like he did Cominius and refuses to listen? What then? I'd just come back as some disappointed friend, hurt by how he treated me? Is that the plan?
but what if he ignores me like he did cominius i just come back sad and hurt is that it
Yet your good will
Must have that thanks from Rome after the measure
As you intended well.
Your good intentions will receive thanks from Rome in proportion to how well you meant.
Rome will appreciate your effort and good intentions, whatever happens.
rome will respect that u tried
I’ll undertake’t.
I think he’ll hear me. Yet to bite his lip
And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me.
He was not taken well; he had not dined.
The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then
We pout upon the morning, are unapt
To give or to forgive; but when we have stuffed
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
Than in our priestlike fasts. Therefore I’ll watch him
Till he be dieted to my request,
And then I’ll set upon him.
I'll do it. I think he'll listen to me. But the way he bit his lip and sighed at Cominius really discourages me. He hadn't eaten - when our stomachs are empty, our blood runs cold, and then we get grumpy in the morning, unable to give or forgive. But when we fill our veins with wine and food, we have more generous hearts than when we're fasting like priests. So I'll wait for him until he's eaten properly, and then I'll make my appeal.
I'll give it a try. I think he'll actually listen to me. But seeing how dismissive he was with Cominius really got to me. The guy hadn't even eaten - that's the thing, when you're hungry, everything inside you goes cold and you get irritable, can't be generous or forgiving. But get some food and wine in you and you're way more open. So I'm going to wait until he's had a proper meal, and then I'll approach him.
ill try he treats cominius badly scared me but he hasnt eaten yet hungry people cant forgive ill wait til he eats then go to him
You know the very road into his kindness
And cannot lose your way.
You know exactly how to reach his mercy and cannot go wrong.
You know how to get through to him and you won't mess it up.
u know how to get to him
Good faith, I’ll prove him,
Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
Of my success.
Honestly, I'll test him, whatever the outcome. I'll soon know whether I've succeeded.
I'm going to give it my best shot, and I'll find out pretty quick if it works.
ill try and find out if it works
He’ll never hear him.
He'll never listen to him.
He's not going to listen to what Menenius has to say.
he wont listen to menenius
Not?
Not?
Not?
not?
I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye
Red as ’twould burn Rome; and his injury
The jailer to his pity. I kneeled before him;
’Twas very faintly he said “Rise”; dismissed me
Thus with his speechless hand. What he would do
He sent in writing after me; what he
Would not, bound with an oath to yield to his
Conditions. So that all hope is vain
Unless his noble mother and his wife,
Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
For mercy to his country. Therefore let’s hence
And with our fair entreaties haste them on.
Listen, he sits there dressed in gold, his eyes red like they'd burn Rome down, and his grudge is the jailer of his mercy. I knelt before him and he barely said 'Get up' - he dismissed me with just a gesture, no words. What he'd do, he sent in writing after I left; what he wouldn't do, he swore by oath to stick to his conditions. So all hope is lost unless his noble mother and wife - who I hear plan to ask him - can convince him to spare the city. So let's go find them and hurry them along.
He's sitting there like some golden king, eyes burning red like they'd torch Rome itself, and his anger is keeping his pity locked up. I actually knelt to him and all he did was quietly say 'Stand up' - just gestured at me, wouldn't even speak. He wrote down what he would and wouldn't do, swore to it all. So there's no hope left unless his mother and wife - who are apparently planning to go beg him themselves - can get him to show mercy to the city. We need to go find them and push them to hurry.
hes in gold and angry red eyes wont even listen to me on my knees wrote everything down swore on it only hope is his mom and wife lets find them and push them to go now
The Reckoning
Rome is now sending its most personal envoys to a man who has declared himself 'a kind of nothing, titleless.' Cominius's report is devastating: Coriolanus didn't just refuse — he prohibited the use of his own name. He's erasing himself so he can be reborn from burning Rome. Menenius agrees to try, with a characteristically practical plan: catch him after dinner. But Cominius's exit line — 'He'll never hear him' — is the play's quiet verdict before the scene has even ended.
If this happened today…
A company's board has sent its most senior executive to negotiate with a former employee who's now leading a hostile takeover. The executive comes back: the guy didn't even want to hear his name. He's changed everything — he calls himself something else now. The board turns to the founder's oldest mentor figure: 'Could you try?' The mentor says: maybe if I catch him at the right moment, after lunch. His old friend whispers on the way out: it's not going to work.