We'll camp outside Rome's walls tomorrow. My partner in this action, you need to report to the Volscian lords how straightforwardly I've handled this business.

Tomorrow we're setting up camp outside Rome. You need to tell the Volscian lords how clearly and honestly I've been running this operation.

camping outside rome tomorrow tell volscians ive done this straight up

You've only cared about their objectives, stopped your ears against Rome's general pleas, never listened to private requests, not even from friends who thought they had a claim on you.

You've only focused on what they want, refused to hear Rome's public appeals, and wouldn't even listen to personal requests from people who thought you cared about them.

u only care about their goals ignored romes pleas and ur own friends

This most recent old man, Whom I sent back to Rome with a broken heart, Loved me more than any father could, In fact, he practically worshipped me. Their final resort Was to send him, and for the sake of his long love, I did, Though I acted coldly toward him, offer again The original terms, which they turned down before And can't accept now, just to honor him, Since he believed he could achieve more. I've given way Only a tiny bit. From now on, I won't listen To any new delegations or appeals, Whether from the government or from personal friends.

That old man I just sent back to Rome, and it broke my heart to do it, loved me more than a father ever would. He basically treated me like a god. Sending him was their last shot. Because of how much he's always loved me, I offered them the same terms as before, even though I was harsh with him. They already rejected those terms and can't take them now, but I did it as a gesture to him, since he thought he could get more out of me. That's the only bit I've given. From here on, I'm not listening to any more messengers or requests, not from the government and not from friends.

sent the old man back he loved me more than my own dad would honestly he worshipped me it wrecked me re-offered the old deal just for him no more visitors after this. done listening

What? What's that shout? Will I be tempted to break my vow Right as I'm making it? I will not.

Wait—what's that noise? Am I about to cave and break my promise the second I make it? No way.

what's that sound won't break my vow no way

My wife comes first, then the sacred womb That shaped me, and in her hand My grandchild. But away with affection! All blood ties and natural bonds, break! Let stubbornness become virtue. What is that curtsy worth? Or those dove's eyes, That could make gods abandon their oaths? I'm melting and am made Of softer earth than others. My mother bows As if Mount Olympus itself would bend In supplication; and my young boy Has a look of pleading that Great Nature cries "Don't deny it!" Let the Volsces Destroy Rome and ravage Italy, I'll never Be such a foolish child obeying instinct, but stand As if a man made himself, And had no family.

My wife is coming, then my mother, and my son in her arms. But stop it—emotion, get out of here! Break all my family bonds! I need to be stubborn, that's what matters now. What's a curtsy anyway? Those sweet eyes might make gods break their promises, but I'm melting like wax. I'm not made of stone. My mother will kneel like the whole world is bowing down, and my little boy will look at me with those pleading eyes that even Nature wouldn't ignore. Let the Volsces burn Rome to the ground—I won't care. I won't be some fool who just follows his feelings. I'll act like I created myself with no family.

family coming wife, mom, my son no emotions allowed break all bonds i stand alone no family

You are my lord and my husband.

My husband, my lord.

my husband

I'm looking at you with different eyes than I had back in Rome.

The eyes I have now aren't the ones I had in Rome.

these arent my rome eyes

The grief that has changed us makes you think that way.

We've all been so changed by loss and sorrow—that's why you see it.

our sorrow changed us thats why

Like a bad actor now, I've forgotten my lines, and I'm completely off stage, totally disgraced. My dearest one, forgive my cruelty, but don't use that to forgive the Romans.

I'm like a terrible actor who forgot his lines and completely messed up on stage. Dear heart, forgive me for being cruel, but that doesn't mean forgive Rome for what they did.

im a bad actor who forgot his lines forgive me but not rome

Oh, a kiss As long as my exile, as sweet as my revenge! Now, by jealous Juno, that kiss I carried from you, my dear, and my lips Have kept it pure ever since. You gods! I talk on And leave unsaluted the most noble mother of the world. My knee sinks to the earth;

Oh, what a kiss—long as the time I was gone, sweet as getting my revenge back. I swear by Juno, I've been keeping that kiss you gave me safe all this time, pure and untouched. But gods, I'm just talking on and on—I'm forgetting about my mother, the greatest woman alive. I need to kneel down to her.

that kiss was everything long as my exile sweet as revenge kept it pure but mom—i'm forgetting her gotta kneel

Show more of your deep loyalty Than that of ordinary sons.

Show your devotion to me more than any regular son would.

show loyalty more than other sons

Stand up, blessed.

Get up. You're blessed.

stand up.

you're blessed.

While with no softer cushion than hard stone I kneel before you and improperly Show duty, having been confused all this while About who is child and who is parent.

I'm kneeling on bare rock in front of you and I'm showing respect all wrong because I've been confused this whole time about who's the parent and who's the child.

kneeling on stone showing duty wrong we had it backwards the whole time

What's this? Your knees to me? To your corrected son?

What's happening? You on your knees for me? For your own son who you've disciplined?

why ur knees to me ur own son

Then let the pebbles on the barren beach Flick upward at the stars! Then let the wild winds Strike the proud cedars against the burning sun, Making impossible things happen, doing What should be impossible.

If I'm wrong, then rocks should fly up and hit the stars, and crazy winds should smash the tallest trees into the sun—basically, impossible things should become real.

if im wrong rocks hit the stars winds smash the trees impossible becomes real

You are my warrior; I helped to make you who you are. Do you know this lady?

You're my warrior—I made you into this. Do you know who this woman is?

ur my warrior i made u do u know this lady

The noble sister of Publicola, the moon of Rome, as pure as the icicle that frost has hardened from pristine snow and hangs on Diana's temple!—Dear Valeria.

The noble sister of Publicola, Rome's bright light, as pure and untouchable as ice frozen from fresh snow hanging in Diana's temple!—Dear Valeria.

publicolas sister romes moon pure like sacred frozen snow

This child is a small version of you, who in time will grow to look like you completely.

This boy is a little copy of you, and as he grows, he'll become more and more like you.

he looks like u now will look just like u later

May the god of soldiers, with Jupiter's permission, fill your thoughts with nobility, so you might prove shame cannot touch you, and stand in war like a great landmark that survives every storm and saves those who see you.

May the god of war, with the gods' blessing, inspire you with real nobility, so you're strong against shame and stand in battle like a great lighthouse that survives every storm and guides people to safety.

god of soldiers fill ur soul with honor stand like a lighthouse in the storm

Kneel, boy.

Come on, kneel down.

kneel down kid

What a brave boy you are!

There's my brave son!

so brave

Your wife, this lady, he, and I—we're all begging you.

We're all here asking you—me, your wife, this lady, and your son.

we all r begging u me ur wife valeria ur son

I'm begging you, let there be peace. Or, if you must listen, remember this first: the thing I've sworn not to give may never be withdrawn by your rejection. Don't ask me to send my soldiers away or negotiate with Rome's common people again. Don't tell me how I'm acting unnaturally; don't try to calm my rage and thirst for revenge with your cooler arguments.

Please, just be quiet. Or if you're going to ask something, remember this: what I've sworn not to do, you can't undo by refusing it. Don't tell me to send away my army or make deals with Rome's ordinary people again. Don't call me unnatural; don't try to cool my anger with your reasonable arguments.

please be quiet dont ask me to give up dont tell me to go back keep my anger

No, stop. You said you won't give us anything, and we have nothing else to ask but what you've already refused. Yet we'll ask anyway—so if you fail us, the blame falls on your hardness. Hear us.

No, stop. You already said no to everything we could ask. We're gonna ask anyway—so if you won't do it, that's on you for being so hard. Listen to us.

you said no we'll ask anyway if you refuse blame is yours

Aufidius and you Volscians, take note—we won't listen to anything from Rome in private. What's your request?

Aufidius, and all of you Volscians, listen up—we're not hearing anything from Rome in secret. So what do you want?

aufidius volscians no private messages from rome what u want

If we stayed silent and said nothing, our clothes and our appearance would show what kind of life we've lived since you were exiled. Consider how more unfortunate than any living women we've become coming here. Since your presence, which should make our eyes flow with joy and our hearts dance with comfort, instead forces them to weep and shake with fear and sorrow, making mother, wife, and child see the son, husband, and father tearing apart his country's body. And your hatred hurts us most deeply. You block us from our prayers to the gods—prayers that everyone else can make. How can we—how can we pray for our country, which we're bound to, along with your victory, which we're also bound to? We're trapped: we must either lose our country, our dear home, or lose you, who comforts us in our country. Either way brings disaster. Even if we could choose which side should win, you'd still have to either be led through our streets in chains like a traitor, or march in triumph over your country's ruin, victorious from having shed your wife and children's blood. For myself, son, I won't wait to see how these wars turn out. If I can't convince you to show real nobility to both sides instead of seeking one's total destruction, I swear by the body that bore you into this world—you won't march against your country without stepping on your mother first.

If we didn't say a word, you could just look at us and know what our lives have been like since you left. Think about how tragic it is that you're here—we came hoping to see you and be happy, but instead every time we look at you we cry. You're destroying Rome while we watch. And you hate us the most of anyone. We can't even pray to the gods—that's the one thing everyone else gets to do. But how can we pray for Rome—the country we belong to—when you're destroying it? And you're destroying it with our victory, which we also belong to in a way. We're completely trapped: lose our country or lose you. There's no good choice. You'll either be dragged through the city in chains like a criminal, or you'll stand over Rome's dead body as the victor, proud you killed your own wife and kids. I won't just sit here waiting. If you won't choose honor and show mercy to both sides, then I promise you won't march on Rome without stepping on me first.

ur killing rome while we watch we cant pray for our country u hate us most of all either u die in chains or we all die i wont let u march on rome without stepping on me first

Yes, and this body of mine, which brought forth this son to keep your name alive for all time.

And my body too—the one that gave birth to this boy to keep your name alive forever.

and my body too that gave him birth to keep ur name living

He won't step on me. I'll run away until I'm bigger, but then I'll fight.

He won't step on me. I'll run away until I'm older and stronger, but then I'll fight.

he wont step on me i run now ill fight when im bigger

To have this tender nature of a woman is not worth requiring a child or a woman's face to see.—I've sat here too long.

A man with a woman's gentle heart shouldn't have to look at a child or a woman to make him feel that way.—I've been here long enough.

i shoudnt need their faces i been here too long

Don't leave us like this. If our request aimed only to save Romans and destroy the Volscians you serve, you could fairly call us poisoners of your honor. But our request is that you make peace between them so that the Volscians can say 'We showed mercy,' the Romans can say 'We received it,' and both sides praise you and cry 'Blessed be you for making this peace!' You know, my son, war's outcome is always uncertain, but this is certain: if you conquer Rome, your reward is a name that will forever be cursed, recorded as 'The man was noble, but with his final action he destroyed it; he destroyed his country, and his name is hated by all generations.' Speak to me, son. You've always reached for honor, imitating the gods, like you could tear heaven itself with your power, yet you hold back. Why won't you speak? Do you think it's noble for a man to always remember old wrongs?—Daughter, you speak. He doesn't care about your tears.—You speak, boy. Maybe your innocence will move him more than our words.—There's no man more bound to his mother than him, yet he lets me stand here like I'm locked in stocks. In your whole life you've never shown your poor mother one kind word, and I, who've only had one child, one brood, sent you to war and welcomed you home safe and honored. Just say my request is wrong and push me away, but if it's not wrong, then you're not being honest, and the gods will punish you for refusing me the duty a son owes his mother.—He turns away.—Down, ladies! Let's shame him by kneeling. The name Coriolanus holds more pride than pity for our prayers. Down! That's the end.

Don't just walk away. If we were asking you to save Rome by destroying the Volscians you work for, you could say we're ruining your honor. But we're asking you to make peace—so the Volscians say 'We showed mercy' and the Romans say 'We got it,' and everyone praises you as the peacemaker. You know, son, you never know how war will end, but here's what's guaranteed: if you beat Rome, what do you win? A name that'll be cursed forever. History books will say 'He was great, but he destroyed it all; he killed his country and everyone remembers him as a monster.' Say something to me. You've always wanted to be noble, like the gods, powerful enough to move the heavens—why won't you speak now? Do you think it's honorable to hold grudges forever?—Daughter, you try. He doesn't care if you cry.—Boy, you talk to him. Maybe he'll listen to you since you're innocent.—No man's more connected to his mother than him, and here he stands and lets me talk like I'm locked up. You've never once in your life been kind to your own mother, and I gave you everything, sent you to war and got you home safe. If my request is wrong, then push me away, but if it's not, then you're not being honest. The gods will curse you if you refuse your mother what she's owed.—He's turning away.—Down, women! Let's shame him by kneeling. That name Coriolanus—he's more proud of it than he cares about our begging. Down! That's it.

dont walk away if we win peace volscians show mercy romes saved everyone praises u but if u win history curses ur name forever we just want mercy for both sides come on speak to me be noble like the gods think about ur mother i gave u everything i bore u the gods will curse u if u refuse me

This is the final appeal. So we will go home to Rome And die among our neighbors.—But look at this. This boy who doesn't know what he wants, But kneels and holds up his hands in friendship, Makes our petition more powerful Than you can refuse.—Come, let us go.

This is it—our last try. We're going back to Rome and we'll die there. But look at this little kid. He doesn't even know what to ask for, just kneels there with his hands up like he wants to be friends. That does more to convince you than anything we've said. Come on, let's go.

last appeal going home to rome look at your son he's on his knees that's enough let's go

This man had a Volscian as his mother, His wife lives in Corioles, and his child Is like him by coincidence.—But give us permission to leave. I will stay silent until our city burns, And then I'll say something.

Aufidius has a Volscian mother, his wife is in Corioles, and his kid's just like him—convenient, right? But anyway, let us go. I'm not saying another word until Rome is on fire. Then maybe I'll talk.

he's volscian through and through wife in corioles kid just like him let us leave im silent til rome burns

Mother! Mother! What have you done? Look—the heavens open, the gods look down, and they laugh at this unnatural scene. Mother! Mother! You've won Rome a happy victory, but for your son—believe it!—you've put him in the deepest danger, maybe even killed him. So let it be.—Aufidius, though I can't make a real war anymore, I'll arrange a peace. Now, good Aufidius, if you were in my position, would you have given a mother less, or given less, Aufidius?

Mother! Mother! What did you do? Look at the sky opening up—the gods are watching this and laughing at how wrong it is. Mother! You won Rome this victory, but you might have just destroyed me. Completely destroyed me. Okay, it's done.—Aufidius, I can't keep fighting now, so I'll make peace instead. Tell me, Aufidius—if you were me, would you have listened to your mother any less? Would you have given less than this?

mother what did u do the gods are laughing u won rome but u killed me im done aufidius i have to make peace now would u have done different

I was moved by it.

It got to me.

it moved me

I'm sure you were. And, sir, it's no small thing to make my eyes shed tears of compassion. But tell me, good sir, what peace will you make? As for me, I won't go to Rome—I'll go back with you. Please, support me in this cause.—Mother!—Wife!

I'm certain you were. And believe me, it's not easy to make me cry like that. But what are we going to do about peace? I'm not going to Rome—I'm backing you. Please stand with me.—Mother!—Wife!

making me cry is big deal what peace now im not going to rome im with u mother wife

I'm glad you've set your mercy and your honor against each other in yourself. From that conflict, I'll work to restore my own power.

Perfect. Now he's torn between his mercy and his honor. I can use that to build myself back up.

good he's torn between mercy and honor i can use that to rebuild

Yes, in a moment. We'll drink together, and you'll carry back something better than words as proof—we'll seal this agreement with formal counterseals. Come in with us. Ladies, you deserve to have a temple built for you. All the weapons in Italy, combined with all her allied forces, couldn't have achieved this peace.

Yeah, in a minute. We'll celebrate together, and you can take back proof that's real, not just words—we'll seal this properly. Come inside with us. You ladies deserve a temple built in your honor. All the armies in Italy couldn't have done what you just did.

yeah in a bit we'll seal this officially u deserve a temple no army could do what u did