Go tell the lords o’ th’ city I am here.
Deliver them this paper.
Go tell the lords of the city I am here. Give them this paper.
Go tell the city's lords I'm here. Hand them this paper.
tell the lords im here give em this paper
Having read it,
Bid them repair to th’ marketplace, where I,
Even in theirs and in the commons’ ears,
Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
The city ports by this hath entered and
Intends t’ appear before the people, hoping
To purge himself with words. Dispatch.
Once you've read it, Have them gather in the marketplace, where I, Right in front of them and the common people, Will confirm the truth of it. I accuse him: He has entered through the city gates and Intends to appear before the people, hoping To clear himself with words. Go quickly.
Have them read it and meet me in the marketplace. I'll tell them face-to-face, in front of everyone—nobles and regular people—that every word is true. He's snuck into the city and plans to go stand in front of the people to make excuses for himself with pretty talk. Get going.
tell them to meet u at marketplace im telling them the truth he entered the city plans to defend himself with words
Most welcome!
Most welcome!
Welcome home!
welcome!
How is it with our general?
How is our general doing?
How's our general doing?
how's the general?
Even so
As with a man by his own alms empoisoned
And with his charity slain.
Exactly as with a man poisoned by his own gifts And killed by his own charity.
Like a man poisoned by his own kindness And killed by his own generosity.
like poisoned by his own gifts killed by his own charity
Most noble sir,
If you do hold the same intent wherein
You wished us parties, we’ll deliver you
Of your great danger.
Most noble sir, if you still hold the same purpose that made you want us as partners, we will free you from your great danger.
Most noble sir, if you still want what you wanted before—us as your allies—we'll get you out of this dangerous situation.
sir if u still want us we'll save u
Sir, I cannot tell.
We must proceed as we do find the people.
Sir, I cannot say. We must proceed according to what we find in the people.
Sir, I'm not sure yet. We need to see how the people react first.
im not sure we gotta see what ppl think
The people will remain uncertain whilst
’Twixt you there’s difference, but the fall of either
Makes the survivor heir of all.
The people will stay uncertain while there is conflict between you two, but whichever one falls makes the survivor inherit everything.
People will stay confused as long as you two are different, but if one of you falls, the winner gets everything.
ppl confused if u fight but winner takes all
I know it,
And my pretext to strike at him admits
A good construction. I raised him, and I pawned
Mine honour for his truth, who being so heightened,
He watered his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and to this end,
He bowed his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.
I know it. My reason to strike him is reasonable. I raised him and pledged my honor for his loyalty. When he grew powerful, he used flattery to seduce my friends. For this purpose, he bent his nature—something never known before but to be rough, stubborn, and free.
I know. My reason for attacking him is solid. I raised him and put my honor on the line for him. When he got powerful, he used flattery to turn my friends against me. That's when he changed who he was—he used to be tough and stubborn, but he bent that nature.
i raised him pledged my honor he got powerful used flattery on my friends changed from tough to manipulative
Sir, his stoutness
When he did stand for consul, which he lost
By lack of stooping—
Sir, his pride when he stood for consul, which he lost because he refused to humble himself—
Sir, his stubbornness when he ran for consul—which he lost because he wouldn't humble himself—
his pride when he ran for consul he lost cuz he wouldn't be humble
That I would have spoke of.
Being banished for’t, he came unto my hearth,
Presented to my knife his throat. I took him,
Made him joint servant with me, gave him way
In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
My best and freshest men; served his designments
In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
Which he did end all his; and took some pride
To do myself this wrong; till at the last
I seemed his follower, not partner; and
He waged me with his countenance as if
I had been mercenary.
That is what I would have spoken of. After his banishment, he came to my home and offered his throat to my blade. I took him in, made him my equal partner, gave him what he wanted. In fact, I let him choose my best soldiers for his projects, fought at his side personally, shared in the glory he won—and took pride in this sacrifice—until finally I seemed like his follower, not his partner. He paid me with just a look, as if I were a mercenary.
That's exactly what I'm talking about. After he was kicked out, he came to me and offered me his life. I took him in, made him my partner, gave him everything he wanted. I let him pick my best soldiers, I fought alongside him personally, I shared in his glory and was happy to do it. But in the end I was just his follower, not his equal. He treated me like a hired soldier.
after he was banished he came to me offered his life i made him my equal gave him everything let him pick my best soldiers i fought for him but he treated me like hired help
So he did, my lord.
The army marvelled at it, and, in the last,
When he had carried Rome and that we looked
For no less spoil than glory—
So he did, my lord. The army was amazed at it, and finally when he had conquered Rome and we expected nothing less than spoils and glory—
So he did, my lord. The troops were shocked by it, and in the end when he conquered Rome and we all expected great wealth and honor—
the troops were amazed when he conquered rome we expected spoils and glory
There was it
For which my sinews shall be stretched upon him.
At a few drops of women’s rheum, which are
As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
Of our great action. Therefore shall he die,
And I’ll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
That is why I will use all my strength against him. For mere tears from women, which are as worthless as lies, he gave up the blood and work of our great campaign. So he must die, and I will restore myself through his downfall.
That's why I'm going to destroy him. For a few tears from women—which are as cheap as lies—he threw away everything we fought for. So he has to die, and I'll make myself whole again through his death.
for tears from women he sold our victory so he dies i'll be renewed by it
Your native town you entered like a post
And had no welcomes home, but he returns
Splitting the air with noise.
You entered your native town like a messenger with no welcome home, but he returns splitting the air with his noise.
You came home quietly with no fanfare, but he comes back making all this noise and commotion.
u came home quiet he comes back loud splitting the air
And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
With giving him glory.
And foolish people, whose children he has killed, tear their throats in giving him glory.
And stupid people, whose kids he killed, they're cheering him anyway.
ppl whose kids he killed theyre praising him anyway
Coriolanus dies not in battle but in a marketplace, surrounded by conspirators, killed for an act of mercy. The play's deepest irony is that the same quality that got him banished from Rome — his refusal to compromise himself, his insistence on living by his own code rather than others' expectations — also gets him killed by Volscia. He could have lived if he'd accepted Aufidius's definition of his action as betrayal. Instead, he insists on defending his honour, on explaining that mercy to family is compatible with service to his adopted nation. This explanation is his death sentence. Aufidius uses his own words against him: because Coriolanus cannot help but speak his truth, he condemns himself. The play suggests that in a world organized around power and survival, the man of principle is doomed. Coriolanus could have lied, could have accepted shame, could have remained silent. His refusal to do any of these things is what kills him.
Therefore at your vantage,
Ere he express himself or move the people
With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
Which we will second. When he lies along,
After your way his tale pronounced shall bury
His reasons with his body.
So when you have the chance, before he can speak or move the people with his words, let him feel your sword, which we will back up. When he lies dead, we will tell the story his way, burying his defense with his body.
So when you get the chance, before he can say anything or convince the people, strike him down—we'll back you up. When he's dead, we'll tell the story so his defense goes to the grave with him.
kill him before he speaks we got ur back his defense dies with him
Say no more.
Here come the lords.
Speak nothing more. The lords approach.
Enough talking. Here come the nobles.
stop here they come
You are most welcome home.
You are very welcome home.
Welcome back, friend.
welcome home
I have not deserved it.
But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
What I have written to you?
I have not deserved it. But, worthy lords, have you carefully read what I have written to you?
I don't deserve such a welcome. But lords, did you read what I sent you?
i dont deserve this but did u read my letter?
We have.
We have.
We have.
we have.
And grieve to hear’t.
What faults he made before the last, I think
Might have found easy fines, but there to end
Where he was to begin and give away
The benefit of our levies, answering us
With our own charge, making a treaty where
There was a yielding—this admits no excuse.
And we grieve to hear it. What faults he made before might have been forgiven, but this final act—to end where he should begin, to give away the fruits of our soldiers' work, to make a treaty where victory should stand—this has no excuse.
And it breaks my heart to hear it. His earlier mistakes might have been forgivable, but this last thing—ending the war when he should be winning, giving away what our soldiers fought for—that's unforgivable.
we're sad earlier mistakes ok but this? no excuse he gave away our victory
with him.
alongside him.
on his side.
with him
He approaches. You shall hear him.
He approaches. You will hear him speak.
Here he comes. Let him speak.
here he comes
Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier,
No more infected with my country’s love
Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
Under your great command. You are to know
That prosperously I have attempted, and
With bloody passage led your wars even to
The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home
Doth more than counterpoise a full third part
The charges of the action. We have made peace
With no less honour to the Antiates
Than shame to th’ Romans, and we here deliver,
Subscribed by th’ Consuls and patricians,
Together with the seal o’ th’ Senate, what
We have compounded on.
Hail, lords! I return as your soldier, no more tainted by love for Rome than when I left, but continuing to serve under your command. You should know that I have successfully led your wars directly to Rome's gates with heavy bloodshed. The plunder we have brought home more than covers a third of the war's costs. We have made peace that brings equal honor to you and equal shame to Rome. Here we deliver the treaty, signed by Rome's consuls and patricians and sealed by the Senate, which we have negotiated.
Hello, lords! I'm back as your soldier, no more loyal to Rome than when I left, still under your command. You should know I've successfully led your wars all the way to Rome's gates with plenty of bloodshed. The plunder we brought home more than pays for a third of the war costs. I've made peace that honors you as much as it shames Rome. Here's the treaty, signed by Rome's consuls and patricians with the Senate's seal.
i'm back as your soldier no loyalty to rome won the war plunder covers costs peace made rome shamed
Read it not, noble lords,
But tell the traitor in the highest degree
He hath abused your powers.
Do not read it, noble lords, but tell this supreme traitor that he has abused your power.
Don't read it, lords. Just tell this traitor he's abused your trust.
don't read it tell the traitor he betrayed u
“Traitor?” How now?
“Traitor?” How now?
“Traitor?” How now?
“traitor?” how now?
Ay, traitor, Martius.
Ay, traitor, Martius.
Ay, traitor, Martius.
ay, traitor, martius.
Martius?
Martius?
Martius?
martius?
Ay, Martius, Caius Martius. Dost thou think
I’ll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol’n name
Coriolanus, in Corioles?
You lords and heads o’ th’ state, perfidiously
He has betrayed your business and given up
For certain drops of salt your city Rome—
I say your city—to his wife and mother,
Breaking his oath and resolution like
A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
Counsel o’ th’ war, but at his nurse’s tears
He whined and roared away your victory,
That pages blushed at him and men of heart
Looked wond’ring each at other.
Yes, Martius, Caius Martius. Do you think I'll let you keep that stolen name, Coriolanus, which you earned in Corioles? You lords and leaders of the state, he has treacherously betrayed your cause and given up your city Rome for mere tears—your city, I say—to his wife and mother, breaking his oath like rotten thread. He wouldn't take military advice, but at his mother's tears he whined and cried away your victory, so even boys blushed for him and brave men stared at each other in disbelief.
Yes, Martius, Caius Martius. You think I'll let you keep that stolen name you took in Corioles? Lords, he betrayed all of you. He gave Rome—your Rome—to his wife and mother for a few tears, broke every oath like it was nothing. He wouldn't listen to military advice, but when his mother cried he whined and lost the war. Even the page boys were ashamed of him.
u stole ur name u betrayed us gave rome to ur mom for tears whined and lost brave men were ashamed
Hear’st thou, Mars?
Do you hear this, Mars?
You hear that, Mars?
hear that mars?
Name not the god, thou boy of tears.
Do not name the god, you boy who cries.
Don't call on the god of war, you crybaby.
stop crying baby
Ha?
Ha?
Ha?
ha?
Aufidius is revealed in 5-6 as Coriolanus's true nemesis — not the tribunes, not the people, but another great soldier who sees in Coriolanus a threat to his own dominance. Throughout the play, we've been trained to see Coriolanus's enemies as the tribunes, the people, Rome itself. But 5-6 reveals that Aufidius has been waiting for an opportunity to eliminate him. The accusation of betrayal is strategically timed: it comes the moment Coriolanus is most vulnerable, when his action can be reframed as weakness. Aufidius understands that Coriolanus's integrity is his vulnerability — that he cannot help but defend himself with truth rather than lies. By giving him the chance to explain, Aufidius guarantees his death. The play's final tragedy is that Coriolanus is killed not by ideological enemies but by a fellow soldier motivated by simple jealousy and fear of being surpassed.
No more.
No more.
No more.
no more.
Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
Too great for what contains it. “Boy”? O slave!—
Pardon me, lords, ’tis the first time that ever
I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
Must give this cur the lie; and his own notion—
Who wears my stripes impressed upon him, that
Must bear my beating to his grave—shall join
To thrust the lie unto him.
You measureless liar, you have made my heart too great for what contains it. Boy? Slave!—Forgive me, lords, this is the first time I have been forced to scold. Your judgment, my grave lords, must prove this dog a liar. And the man who bears my scars impressed upon him, who must bear the marks of my beating to his grave, shall join in proving him a liar.
You lie without limit—you've made my heart too big for my body. Boy? Slave!—Excuse me, lords, this is the first time I've ever had to scold anyone. You need to prove this dog is lying. And the man who carries my scars, who'll go to his grave bearing the marks I put on him, will prove him a liar too.
liar u made my heart explode boy? slave? im forced to fight back prove hes lying the scars prove it
Peace, both, and hear me speak.
Peace, both of you, and hear me speak.
Stop, both of you, let me speak.
stop listen to me
Cut me to pieces, Volsces. Men and lads,
Stain all your edges on me. “Boy”? False hound!
If you have writ your annals true, ’tis there,
That like an eagle in a dovecote, I
Fluttered your Volscians in Corioles,
Alone I did it. “Boy”!
Cut me to pieces, Volscians. Men and boys, stain all your swords on me. Boy? You liar! If your records are true, you will find there that like an eagle in a dovecote, I scattered your Volscians in Corioles, and I did it alone. Boy!
Go ahead, kill me, Volscians. Stain all your swords with my blood. Boy? You liar! If your histories are right, they'll say I was like an eagle in a chicken coop—I scattered your whole army at Corioles, and I did it alone. Boy!
kill me volscians stain ur swords on me im an eagle i scattered ur army at corioles i did it alone im no boy
Why, noble lords,
Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
’Fore your own eyes and ears?
Why, noble lords, will you be reminded of his blind luck, which was your shame, by this unholy boaster, right before your eyes and ears?
Why, lords, are you going to let this arrogant bastard remind you of the lucky victory that shamed you? Right in front of you?
u gonna let him remind u of his lucky victory over u?
Let him die for’t.
ALL PEOPLE
Tear him to pieces! Do it presently! He killed my son! My daughter! He
killed my cousin Marcus! He killed my father!
He deserves death. All people: Rip him to shreds immediately! He slew my son, my daughter! He murdered my cousin Marcus! He murdered my father!
Death to him! Everyone: Tear him to pieces now! He killed my son! My daughter! He killed my cousin! He killed my father!
kill him tear him apart he killed my family
Peace, ho! No outrage! Peace!
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
This orb o’ th’ Earth. His last offences to us
Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
And trouble not the peace.
Peace! No violence! Peace! The man is noble and his fame covers this whole world. His latest offenses against us will receive fair judgment. Stand, Aufidius, and do not disturb the peace.
Stop! No violence! Stop! This man is noble and his fame covers the whole world. His latest crimes against us deserve a fair trial. Stand down, Aufidius, don't start a riot.
stop no violence he's noble fame covers the world let justice happen
O that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword.
Oh, if I had him here with six Aufidiuses or more of his clan, so I could use my sword justly.
If only I had him here with six more Aufidiuses, so I could fight them all fairly.
if i had him and six more aufidiuses i'd fight them all
Insolent villain!
Insolent villain!
Insolent villain!
insolent villain!
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
Death to him, death to him, death to him, death to him, death to him!
End him! End him now! Do it!
kill kill kill
Hold, hold, hold, hold!
Restrain yourselves, restrain yourselves!
Stop! Stop! Stop!
wait wait wait
My noble masters, hear me speak.
My esteemed masters, grant me audience.
My lords, let me speak.
listen to me
O Tullus!
O Tullus!
O Tullus!
o tullus!
Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
You have done a deed at which courage itself will weep.
You've done something so shameful that even brave men will cry.
u did something even brave men cry about
Tread not upon him.—Masters, all be quiet.—
Put up your swords.
Do not step on him. Masters, all be silent. Put away your swords.
Don't kick him. Everyone, quiet down. Sheathe your swords.
dont kick him sheath ur swords
My lords, when you shall know—as in this rage,
Provoked by him, you cannot—the great danger
Which this man’s life did owe you, you’ll rejoice
That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honours
To call me to your senate, I’ll deliver
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
Your heaviest censure.
My lords, when you come to know—as you cannot now in this rage he provoked—the great danger his life posed to you, you will rejoice that he is dead. If it please you to call me to your senate, I will prove myself your loyal servant or accept your harshest judgment.
My lords, when you calm down and understand—something you can't see now because he provoked this rage—the threat he posed to all of you, you'll be glad he's dead. If you want to bring me before your senate, I'll show I'm your loyal servant, or I'll accept whatever punishment you give.
when u calm down u'll see the threat he was u'll be glad hes dead if u want to judge me i accept ur sentence
Bear from hence his body,
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
As the most noble corse that ever herald
Did follow to his urn.
Carry his body from here and mourn for him. Let him be considered the most noble corpse that any herald ever escorted to his tomb.
Take his body away and mourn him. Treat him as the noblest corpse that any herald has ever led to a tomb.
carry his body mourn him he's noble
His own impatience
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let’s make the best of it.
His own impatience takes much of the blame away from Aufidius. Let us make the best of it.
His own impatience takes away a lot of Aufidius's guilt. Let's move on from this.
his rage caused it not just aufidius let it go
My rage is gone,
And I am struck with sorrow.—Take him up.
Help, three o’ th’ chiefest soldiers; I’ll be one.—
Beat thou the drum that it speak mournfully.—
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.
Assist.
My rage is gone and I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. Help, three of the chief soldiers; I'll be one. Beat the drum so it sounds mournful. Drag your steel pikes low. Though in this city he has made many widows and orphans, who still mourn the harm, yet he shall have a noble memory. Help me.
My rage is gone and I feel terrible. Pick him up. Three of you strong soldiers help me. Beat that drum mournfully. Drag your pikes. Yes, he killed a lot of our people and made widows and orphans who still grieve. But he was noble and deserves to be remembered that way. Help me carry him.
im sorry now my rage is gone pick him up beat the drum sad he killed many but he was noble remember him right
The Reckoning
Scene 5-6 is the play's tragic conclusion. Coriolanus dies defending the same principle that got him banished from Rome: his refusal to compromise his own nature. He spared Rome for family; Aufidius sees this as betrayal. Coriolanus cannot live in a world where he must choose between integrity and survival — and when forced to choose, he chooses integrity. He dies cursing Aufidius, the Volscians, and Rome. He's killed not by enemies in battle but by conspirators in a marketplace while trying to explain himself. The play ends with his death mourned even by those who killed him.
If this happened today…
The exiled general who switched sides gets assassinated by his new allies when they decide his previous mercy to his homeland is evidence of disloyalty. He tries to explain, tries to defend his honour, but he's outnumbered and surrounded. They kill him while he's talking.