Sharp, articulate, full of genuine grievance — this is not a mindless mob but a spokesman who can argue policy and owns his anger. Watch for how he pivots: ready to give Martius credit, unwilling to be talked out of his complaint.
Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
Before we proceed any further, listen to what I have to say.
Hold on a second. Let me say something before we go any further.
wait listen to me before we do this
Speak, speak!
Speak! Speak!
Yeah, talk! Go ahead!
speak speak speak we're listening tell us
You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
You're all resolved to die rather than starve, aren't you?
So we're all on the same page, right? We're willing to die instead of watching our families starve?
die or starve those are our choices which one?
Resolved, resolved!
Resolved! Resolved!
Yeah! Absolutely!
resolved we're with you all in
First, you know Caius Martius is chief enemy to the people.
First, you all know that Caius Martius is the people's greatest enemy.
First thing: everyone knows Caius Martius is the worst thing that ever happened to regular people like us.
caius martius our worst enemy everyone knows it
We know’t, we know’t!
We know it! We know it!
Yeah, we know! We all know!
we know we know he hates us ever heard
Let us kill him, and we’ll have corn at our own price. Is’t a verdict?
Let us kill him, and we can have corn at our own price. Is that a verdict?
We kill him, and the food price problem goes away. We get what we want. Deal?
kill him get grain at fair prices voters agree?
No more talking on’t; let it be done. Away, away!
No more talking about it! Let it be done! Away, away!
Stop wasting time talking. Do it. Let's go, let's go!
no more talking let it happen now away away let's go
One word, good citizens.
One word, good citizens. Let me speak one word.
Wait, wait. Just give me a chance to say something. One thing.
wait wait wait one word just listen
We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. What authority
surfeits on would relieve us. If they would yield us but the
superfluity while it were wholesome, we might guess they relieved us
humanely. But they think we are too dear. The leanness that afflicts
us, the object of our misery, is as an inventory to particularize their
abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them. Let us revenge this with
our pikes ere we become rakes; for the gods know I speak this in hunger
for bread, not in thirst for revenge.
We're labeled the poor citizens; the patricians are called the good ones. What the authorities waste on themselves could save our lives. If the rich would share even their excess while it's still fresh, we might believe they helped us out of kindness. But they think we're too expensive to keep alive. Our starvation — we are the visible proof of their wealth. We serve as an inventory of everything they own. They profit from watching us go hungry. Let us settle this with weapons before we turn into beggars — and I speak this way out of hunger for bread, not hunger for revenge.
So here's the thing: they get to be 'the good people,' and we're just 'the poor people.' The stuff they're gorging themselves on — that could feed us. If they threw us the scraps while it was still good to eat, maybe we'd think they actually cared about us. But no. They think we're too much of a burden to support. Our bodies — thin, sick, desperate — that's basically a ledger showing everything they're keeping for themselves. They look at our suffering like it's an asset. We make ourselves useful to them just by being hungry. So let's use force before we're not even worth killing. And I'm saying this because my stomach's empty, not because I want blood on my hands.
they're the good ones we're the poor ones their food could save us but they'd rather watch us starve our hunger proves what they have let's take what we need
Would you proceed especially against Caius Martius?
Would you act especially against Caius Martius, then?
So Martius is your main target here? That's the real goal?
caius martius your number one enemy right?
Against him first. He’s a very dog to the commonalty.
Against him first. He's a real dog to the common people.
Yeah, him first. The guy's nothing but a vicious animal when it comes to us ordinary folks.
him first he treats us like dogs like we're animals
Consider you what services he has done for his country?
But consider: what services has he done for his country?
Hold on though. The guy's actually fought hard for Rome. You can't just ignore that.
but he's a soldier he fights for rome he's done things
Very well, and could be content to give him good report for’t, but that
he pays himself with being proud.
Very well, and I could give him credit for it — except that he pays himself with pride instead of good character.
Yeah, fine, he's fought in wars. I'll give him that. But the problem is he's so full of himself about it that it cancels out any good he's done.
okay he's brave okay he's fought but he's so proud it ruins everything
Nay, but speak not maliciously.
No, but don't speak with malice.
Look, let's not be nasty about this. Let's stick to what's true.
don't be mean stay fair be honest
I say unto you, what he hath done famously he did it to that end.
Though soft-conscienced men can be content to say it was for his
country, he did it to please his mother and to be partly proud, which
he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.
I'm telling you: everything famous he's done, he did it for a reason. Softhearted men might say it was for his country, but the truth is he did it to please his mother and to be proud — which he is, excessively, absolutely proud.
Look, I'm not being mean. I'm being clear. Every great thing he's done — he did it on purpose. He calculated it. Sure, people want to believe he did it for Rome, but really it's about his mother wanting him to be the best, and him wanting people to bow down and say 'yes, sir, you're perfect.'
every great thing he did was for his mother and his pride not for rome not for us
What he cannot help in his nature you account a vice in him. You must
in no way say he is covetous.
What he can't help in his nature, you're calling a flaw in his character. You shouldn't say he's greedy.
Okay, okay. Some of what you're saying is just how he is — he was born proud. That's not actually a crime. And the man's not greedy, so don't say that.
some of that is just who he is born that way can't blame him for everything
If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations. He hath faults,
with surplus, to tire in repetition. [_Shouts within_.] What shouts are
these? The other side o’ th’ city is risen. Why stay we prating here?
To th’ Capitol!
If I can't say that, then I don't have much left to accuse him of. He's got plenty of other faults, enough to list forever. (Shouts heard from outside.) What's that noise? The other part of the city has risen up too. Why are we standing here talking? To the Capitol!
Fine, I won't say greedy. But I've got like a hundred other things to throw at him — I could spend all day listing his problems. (Sounds of rioting from outside.) Wait, what's happening out there? The whole other side of the city's already fighting. Why are we even talking? Let's move! To the Capitol!
if i can't call him greedy i've got plenty else to say what's that noise the city's on fire stop talking let's go
Menenius's fable wasn't Shakespeare's invention. It appears in Livy's history of Rome (Book II), in Plutarch's Life of Coriolanus (Shakespeare's main source), and goes back at least to Aesop. The image of the body politic — the state as an organism in which each organ has its function — was one of the most durable political metaphors in Western thought, used throughout the Middle Ages and Renaissance to justify social hierarchy. The belly represents the ruling class who appear to do nothing but actually distribute resources; the other organs represent the laboring classes who perform visible work. Shakespeare's innovation is subtle but devastating: he lets a working-class man (First Citizen) begin to deliver the fable before Menenius can finish it. The citizen knows the story. He's heard it before. And he's already figured out where the moral leads and why it's rigged. This transforms the scene from a lecture into a debate — and makes Menenius's rhetorical 'victory' feel slightly hollow. The fable only works if you accept the senators are truly the processing center of the state, distributing 'flour' to everyone. The citizens don't accept that premise, and the play will spend three acts testing it.
Come, come!
Come on! Come on!
Let's go! Move!
come come come let's move now
Soft, who comes here?
Wait — who comes here?
Hold on. Who's this guy?
wait who is this where did he come from
Worthy Menenius Agrippa, one that hath always loved the people.
It's Worthy Menenius Agrippa, the one who's always loved the people.
Oh, it's Menenius Agrippa. The guy's actually one of the few rich guys who's on our side.
menenius agrippa he's actually good loves the people
He’s one honest enough. Would all the rest were so!
He's honest enough. If only everyone else was like him!
Yeah, he's okay. Wish all the rich people were this reasonable.
he's honest he gets it wish the others were like him
He manages through charm and storytelling — his fable of the belly is also a vehicle for patrician condescension, and he's entirely aware of the double meaning. Watch for how he flatters and insults simultaneously, keeping everyone off-balance.
What work’s, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
My friends, what work is at hand? Where are you going with those bats and clubs? What's this about? Please, tell me.
So what's going on here, you guys? Why do you have clubs and weapons? What's the deal? Help me understand.
what's happening why the weapons where are you going tell me please
Our business is not unknown to th’ Senate. They have had inkling this
fortnight what we intend to do, which now we’ll show ’em in deeds. They
say poor suitors have strong breaths; they shall know we have strong
arms too.
The Senate already knows what we're planning. They've had rumors for two weeks about what we intend to do, and now we're going to show them through action. They say poor people should just use their voices and beg — well, we're going to show them we have strong arms too.
Look, the Senate knows. They've been hearing about this for weeks. We're not sneaking around — we're going to do this right in front of them. And they always act like all we can do is beg and say nice words. We're about to show them what we can actually do.
senate already knows they've been warned we're not hiding we have strength too not just words
Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
Will you undo yourselves?
Masters, my good friends, my honest neighbors, would you destroy yourselves?
Hold on, everybody. These are people I know, people I care about. Are you sure about this? You're about to ruin yourselves.
wait wait my friends think about this you'll destroy yourselves
We cannot, sir; we are undone already.
We can't, sir. We're already destroyed.
We're already ruined, sir. There's nothing left to destroy.
we're already gone already destroyed already lost
I tell you, friends, most charitable care
Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
Against the Roman state, whose course will on
The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
Of more strong link asunder than can ever
Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
The gods, not the patricians, make it, and
Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
You are transported by calamity
Thither where more attends you, and you slander
The helms o’ th’ state, who care for you like fathers,
When you curse them as enemies.
I tell you, friends, the patricians have taken genuine care of you. For your food shortages and suffering in this famine, you might as well strike at heaven with your sticks as try to raise them against the Roman state — the state's direction is fixed, it crushes ten thousand obstacles stronger than anything you could put in its way. The famine doesn't come from the patricians; the gods caused it. Your prayers, not your arms, can help you. I'm telling you, you're being driven by disaster toward even worse places. You're blaming the senators — the ones who guide the state and care for you like fathers — and treating them like enemies when they're your protectors.
Look, here's the thing. The patricians actually do care about you. Trust me on this. Your food problems — yeah, that's real. But you can't fix it by going after the government. The Roman state is too strong. It doesn't matter how many obstacles you put up — it'll crush them like they're nothing. And here's the real problem: the gods made this famine happen, not the senators. What you need is to pray harder, not fight harder. You're in a panic because you're starving, and panic is making you blame people who actually are looking out for you. The Senate is like your father. But you're treating them like enemies.
the patricians care about you trust me the state is too strong the gods made the famine prayer not violence the senate is your father
Care for us? True, indeed! They ne’er cared for us yet. Suffer us to
famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury
to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against
the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and
restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there’s
all the love they bear us.
Care for us? That's beautiful. They've never cared for us. They let us starve while their warehouses are bursting with grain. They make laws supporting moneylenders to keep poor people in debt; they cancel every rule that helps workers and write new laws to keep the poor in chains. If the wars don't kill us, they will. That's all the love they show us.
Yeah, sure, they care. They care so much they let us starve while they've got grain piled up to the ceiling. They make laws that help rich moneylenders squeeze poor people. Every decent law that gets written gets repealed, and every new law makes it worse for us. We're not even worth keeping alive. If soldiers don't kill us in war, the system will. That's their 'care.'
they care about us laughing storehouses full while we starve laws for the rich cruel laws for the poor that's their love
Either you must confess yourselves wondrous malicious
Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you
A pretty tale. It may be you have heard it,
But since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To stale’t a little more.
Either you have to admit you're being unreasonably hateful, or you're being foolish. Let me tell you a story. You might have heard it before, but since it suits my purpose, I'll risk repeating it.
Look, you can either admit you're being irrational and just want to hurt people, or you're deluded. Let me tell you a story. Maybe you know it already, but I'm going to use it anyway because it's perfect for this moment.
either you're lying or you're foolish listen to a story i'm about to tell you trust me
Well, I’ll hear it, sir; yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace
with a tale. But, an’t please you, deliver.
Okay, I'll listen, sir, but don't think you're going to smooth over our situation with a story. If you want to talk, go ahead.
Fine, I'll listen. But don't come here thinking you can make our problems disappear with some fairy tale. If you've got something to say, say it.
i'll listen but you can't trick me with stories try anyway
There was a time when all the body’s members
Rebelled against the belly, thus accused it:
That only like a gulf it did remain
I’ th’ midst o’ th’ body, idle and unactive,
Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
Like labour with the rest, where th’ other instruments
Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. The belly answered—
There was a time when all the organs of the body rebelled against the belly. They accused it of this: that it just sat in the middle of the body, idle and useless, always taking in food and never working like the other parts. The other organs could see and hear and think and move and feel, and they all shared their work — they all served the stomach and the general appetite. The belly answered back—
Picture this. Once upon a time, all the parts of the body — your eyes, your ears, your arms, your legs, everything — they all got together and rebelled against the stomach. 'You,' they said, 'you just sit there in the middle doing nothing. You just eat and eat and eat, while the rest of us are actually working. We see things. We hear things. We think. We move. We feel. We work together. And everything we do feeds you. You're useless.' So the stomach answered back—
once the body parts rebelled against the belly 'you do nothing just take food we do the work' the belly answered
Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
Well, sir, what did the belly say in response?
Yeah, so what? What did the belly say to that?
so what what did the belly say what's the answer
Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
Which ne’er came from the lungs, but even thus—
For, look you, I may make the belly smile
As well as speak—it tauntingly replied
To th’ discontented members, the mutinous parts
That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
As you malign our senators for that
They are not such as you.
The belly answered with a kind of smile — not coming from the lungs, but like this. You see, I can make the belly smile just as well as talk. It answered mockingly to the angry organs that envied it for receiving all the food — and it answered perfectly, just like you now blame our senators for not being the way you wish they were.
The belly smiled — and this smile didn't come from breathing out, but look, I can make the belly smile and talk just like this. It smiled and made fun of the complaining organs. The ones who were jealous because the belly gets all the food. And it said — perfectly, just like — you blaming the senators for not being exactly who you want them to be.
the belly smiled smirked actually at the organs envious organs full of blame just like you
Your belly’s answer—what?
The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
With other muniments and petty helps
Is this our fabric, if that they—
So the belly answers — what? The crowned head with its kingly power, the watchful eye, the thoughtful heart, the arm of the soldier, the leg as our steed, the tongue as our messenger — all these noble parts and helpers — is this what makes us human, if they—
So the belly answers... what? We have the crowned head with all its power, the eye that sees everything, the heart that thinks, the arm that fights, the legs that carry us, the tongue that speaks — all these incredible parts — and if they—
the head the eye the heart the arm the leg the tongue all the noble parts if they...
What then?
’Fore me, this fellow speaks. What then? What then?
What then? By my word, this fellow speaks! What then? What then?
What then? By god, this guy actually knows how to think! What then? What then?
what then this guy speaks what then what then
Should by the cormorant belly be restrained,
Who is the sink o’ th’ body—
If they're being controlled by the greedy belly — who is the cesspool of the body—
—if they're being ruled by the gluttonous belly, who's basically the trash heap of the whole body—
if they're controlled by the greedy belly the sink of it all
Well, what then?
Well, what then?
Yeah, yeah, go on.
what then keep talking
Martius's first mention of Aufidius is startlingly tender: 'I sin in envying his nobility.' He would rather be Aufidius than himself. He would switch sides in a global war just to have the chance to fight him. This is not how warriors usually talk about their enemies — it's how they talk about the people they most want to become, or to be closest to. Critics have long noted the homoerotic charge in the Coriolanus-Aufidius relationship, culminating in Act 4 when Aufidius greets Coriolanus 'as a lover' and holds him by the hand. But it begins here, in this throwaway moment of self-disclosure in Act 1. The relationship is a kind of dark mirror: Aufidius is what Coriolanus would be if stripped of Roman context. When Coriolanus is exiled — stripped of that context — he goes straight to Aufidius. Keep watching for how this rivalry transforms in Act 4, when hatred and obsession stop being easy to distinguish.
The former agents, if they did complain,
What could the belly answer?
If the original workers complained, what could the belly answer?
So if the parts that actually do the work complain, what defense does the belly have?
if the workers complain what can the belly say what's the defense
I will tell you,
If you’ll bestow a small—of what you have little—
Patience awhile, you’st hear the belly’s answer.
I'll tell you — if you can spare a moment's patience (which you have little of), then you'll hear what the belly answered.
I'll tell you, if you can just hold on one second. You're not good at waiting, I know, but stick with me and you'll hear the belly's answer.
i'll tell you if you can wait have patience just listen
You are long about it.
You're taking too long about it.
You're dragging this out way too much.
come on speed it up get to the point
Note me this, good friend;
Your most grave belly was deliberate,
Not rash like his accusers, and thus answered:
“True is it, my incorporate friends,” quoth he,
“That I receive the general food at first
Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
Because I am the storehouse and the shop
Of the whole body. But, if you do remember,
I send it through the rivers of your blood
Even to the court, the heart, to th’ seat o’ th’ brain;
And, through the cranks and offices of man,
The strongest nerves and small inferior veins
From me receive that natural competency
Whereby they live. And though that all at once,
You, my good friends”—this says the belly, mark me—
Notice this, good friend: your most serious belly was deliberate, not rash like its accusers, and this is what it said: 'It's true, my connected friends,' says the belly, 'that I receive the general food first, which you all live from. And it makes sense — because I am the storehouse and the marketplace of the whole body. But if you remember, I send it through your blood rivers — all the way to your heart, to your brain, and through all the channels of the body. The strongest nerves and smallest veins get their life from me. And although you can't all see at the same time what I'm sending out to each part, I keep a perfect accounting, that everything — from me — comes back to you as the finest part, leaving me only the leftovers.' What do you say to that?']
Listen carefully: the belly — it wasn't hasty like the angry organs. It was thoughtful. And this is what it said: 'Okay, you're right, I'm part of you,' the belly says, 'I get the food first, I'll grant you that. And yeah, that makes sense, because I'm like the bank and the store of the whole operation. But think about this — I take that food and I send it everywhere. Through your blood it goes to your heart, to your brain, all through your system. Your strongest muscles, your tiniest veins — they all get what they need because of me. And yeah, maybe you can't see all at once everything I'm distributing, but I account for it all perfectly. Everything that's worth anything comes out of me and goes to you. I keep the garbage for myself.' What about that? What do you say?']
the belly is deliberate not hasty it says i send food everywhere through blood to heart and brain i'm the storehouse i send everything to you i keep only scraps
Ay, sir, well, well.
Yes, sir, well, well.
Okay, yeah, alright.
yeah okay well
“Though all at once cannot
See what I do deliver out to each,
Yet I can make my audit up, that all
From me do back receive the flour of all,
And leave me but the bran.” What say you to’t?
'Everything all at once cannot be seen — what I do deliver to each part — but I can balance my books: everything worth having comes back from me to you, and I'm left with just the bran.' What do you think of that?
'Not every organ can see all at once what I'm sending to each one, but the math works out perfectly: all the good stuff comes from me and goes to you, and I take whatever's left over.' So what do you think?
not everything visible but it all balances the good comes from me to you i keep the bran
It was an answer. How apply you this?
It was an answer. But how does this apply to us?
Okay, it's an answer. So what? How does this have anything to do with our problem?
okay that's an answer but what's it mean for us
The senators of Rome are this good belly,
And you the mutinous members. For examine
Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly
Touching the weal o’ th’ common, you shall find
No public benefit which you receive
But it proceeds or comes from them to you
And no way from yourselves. What do you think,
You, the great toe of this assembly?
The senators of Rome are this good belly. And you are the mutinous organs. Look at what the senators do and care about. Examine their wisdom regarding the common good: you'll find no public benefit you receive that doesn't come from them to you — and never the other way around. Now, what do you think of that? You — the great toe of this gathering?
The Roman Senate — that's your belly. You're the mutinous organs. Think about what senators do and care about. Study their decisions. You won't find a single thing that's good for everyone that doesn't come from them, flowing down to you. Not once has it gone the other direction. So what's your answer to that? You — you're like the big toe here — the biggest part of this mob, standing right out front.
senate is the belly you're the mutinous organs every good thing flows from them to you never the other way you're the great toe
I the great toe? Why the great toe?
The great toe? Why would the great toe be the leader?
The great toe? Why am I the great toe? What does that even mean?
the great toe why what does that mean
For that, being one o’ th’ lowest, basest, poorest,
Of this most wise rebellion, thou goest foremost.
Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
Lead’st first to win some vantage.
But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs.
Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
The one side must have bale.
Because you're one of the lowest, most base, poorest members of this incredibly wise uprising — yet you go in front. You're the first to lead, first to win the spoils, even though you're the worst person in the bloodline of all of us to be running forward. But go on — get your clubs and weapons ready. Rome and its rats are about to fight. One side is going to get destroyed.
Because you're one of the lowest, meanest, poorest people in this whole 'brilliant' revolt. But you're the one walking in front leading everybody. You're first to move, first to grab the benefit — even though you're literally the least qualified person here to be doing anything. Anyway, go ahead. Get your clubs ready. Rome's about to fight itself. Either Rome wins or the rats do. Somebody's dying today.
you're the lowest the meanest the poorest but you lead first in front first to benefit one side dies today
He speaks in animal imagery — the crowd are hares, geese, scabs, rats — and his contempt arrives before his argument does. Watch for the word 'voice': every time he mocks the people's 'voices,' note that it will be their votes that undo him.
Thanks.—What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?
Thanks. What's this about, you disagreeable traitors? You keep scratching at your little opinions and you're turning yourselves into diseased sores on the city?
Thanks. So what's the problem here, you miserable rebels? You keep obsessing over your pathetic little ideas and you're basically infecting the whole city with your disease?
thanks what's this you dissentious rogues you're turning yourselves into infected sores
We have ever your good word.
We appreciate that you've always spoken well of us.
You've always had nice things to say about the people, sir.
you've been good to us always supportive
He that will give good words to thee will flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you;
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese. You are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
To make him worthy whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness
Deserves your hate; and your affections are
A sick man’s appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?
With every minute you do change a mind
And call him noble that was now your hate,
Him vile that was your garland. What’s the matter,
That in these several places of the city
You cry against the noble senate, who,
Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
Would feed on one another?—What’s their seeking?
A man who speaks well of you is just being flattering in a way that makes you sick. What do you want, you dogs? You don't like peace and you don't like war. Peace frightens you, and war makes you arrogant. Anyone who depends on your support — they find you're hares when they need lions, geese when they need eagles. You're not stable. You're like embers on ice or hailstones in the sun. Your only skill is making worthy men deserve the hate they get, and then you curse justice for punishing them. The truly great deserve your hatred, and your feelings are like a sick man's appetite — you crave what will only make you sicker. Anyone who depends on your approval is swimming with lead weights and chopping oaks with reeds. To hell with you! Do you think anyone should trust you? Every minute you change your minds. The man you hated yesterday you call noble today. The man who was crowned yesterday you spit on today. What is this? Why do you rebel against the noble senators in different parts of the city? They, by god's authority, keep you from tearing each other apart. What do you want from them?
If somebody tells you something nice, it's just to manipulate you into doing whatever they want — it's insulting. Look at you. What are you even asking for? You don't want peace, you don't want war. Peace makes you nervous, and war gets you thinking you're important. Every leader you've ever had — expected to find soldiers and instead found cowards. You promise loyalty and you deliver betrayal. You're as reliable as hot coals on ice. The only thing you're good at is making sure that anyone who rises up above you gets crushed by your hatred, and then you blame the law for destroying them. Great people deserve your hate — it's your nature. You're like a sick person: your cravings make you sicker. Any general who depends on you is trying to cut down a tree with feathers. Trust you? Your word changes minute by minute. Yesterday's enemy is today's hero. Yesterday's champion is today's scum. So what is all this? You're marching around demanding that the great senators step down? Those senators are the only thing keeping Rome from total collapse — they are what stops you from eating each other alive. What exactly are you demanding from them?
you want flattery you dogs peace scares you war makes you proud leaders find you're cowards not stable embers on ice leads depend on you and die your words change constantly trustworthy as nothing what do you want
For corn at their own rates, whereof they say
The city is well stored.
They're asking for corn at fair prices — which the city has in plenty, they say.
Actually, they want to buy grain at a reasonable price. There's plenty of grain in Rome's stores, they claim.
they want grain at fair prices the city has grain
Hang ’em! They say?
They’ll sit by th’ fire and presume to know
What’s done i’ th’ Capitol, who’s like to rise,
Who thrives and who declines; side factions and give out
Conjectural marriages, making parties strong
And feebling such as stand not in their liking
Below their cobbled shoes. They say there’s grain enough?
Would the nobility lay aside their ruth
And let me use my sword, I’d make a quarry
With thousands of these quartered slaves as high
As I could pick my lance.
Damn them! They talk? They'll sit by the fire and speculate about what's happening in the Capitol — who might rise, who's declining, which sides are forming, pushing marriages as part of factions, deciding which senators succeed and which don't, all from their gossip and their power to change people's lives with their judgment. But say there's grain in Rome? I wish the senators would abandon their mercy — let me use my sword, I'd create a massacre of thousands of these chopped-up slaves, piled as high as I could throw my spear.
Hell with them! They sit around talking about grain while they sit by the fire like they know what's going on in the government. They gossip about who's going to be successful, what's going to fail, who's marrying who for political advantage, deciding who wins and who loses power just based on their stupid opinions. And now they say there's grain? If the rich didn't hold back because they feel bad for you, if they let me do what I want, I'd stack your corpses higher than I could throw a lance.
they talk gossip from the fire speculating about power who rises who falls making marriages controlling factions from their gossip there's no grain there's blood
Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
For though abundantly they lack discretion,
Yet are they passing cowardly. But I beseech you,
What says the other troop?
No, listen — these people are almost completely convinced now. Even though they lack good sense, they're all cowards. But please, what about the other group gathering?
Actually, don't worry about them. They're basically done. They don't have any real backbone anyway. But tell me — what's the other mob doing?
they're convinced almost broken cowardly anyway what about the other group
They are dissolved. Hang ’em!
They said they were an-hungry, sighed forth proverbs
That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
Corn for the rich men only. With these shreds
They vented their complainings, which being answered
And a petition granted them—a strange one,
To break the heart of generosity
And make bold power look pale—they threw their caps
As they would hang them on the horns o’ th’ moon,
Shouting their emulation.
They fell apart. Damn them! They said they were hungry, spouted old sayings about starvation breaking stone walls, that dogs have to eat, that food was made for mouths, that the gods didn't send grain just for the rich. With these pathetic ideas, they complained. When someone answered them and actually gave them what they asked for — something insane, crazy enough to break a generous man's heart and make power look weak — they went insane with joy. They threw their caps like they'd hang them on the moon, shouting their excitement.
They surrendered. Damn them! They kept saying 'we're starving, hunger breaks down walls, dogs need food, the gods send grain for everyone, not just the rich.' Just stupid stuff, over and over. And when someone finally said yes to what they wanted — some crazy concession that's going to undermine everything — they went ballistic. Started throwing their hats in the air like they'd won the war, screaming with joy.
they broke starving hungry dying stale complaints the gods send grain for everyone not just rich insane with joy threw their caps shouting
What is granted them?
What was granted to them?
So what did the government actually give them?
what concession what did they get
Shakespeare wrote many crowd scenes — the mob in Julius Caesar, the riots in Henry VI, the citizens in Measure for Measure. But the opening of Coriolanus is unusual because the crowd is right. First Citizen is eloquent, politically sophisticated, and makes a compelling case. Second Citizen functions as the voice of reasonableness, acknowledging Martius's service even while endorsing the riot. The citizens are not stupid, not merely manipulated, not a screaming mob with no argument. This creates the play's central moral difficulty: Martius despises them, the play shows them as fully human, and neither position is entirely wrong. Shakespeare may have been responding to the Midlands Uprising of 1607 — enclosures that drove food prices up and sparked protests — which gives the corn crisis in Act 1 immediate contemporary resonance for its original audience. The question the opening scene asks is: what do the powerful owe the people? It never fully answers it.
Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
Of their own choice. One’s Junius Brutus,
Sicinius Velutus, and I know not. ’Sdeath!
The rabble should have first unroofed the city
Ere so prevailed with me. It will in time
Win upon power and throw forth greater themes
For insurrection’s arguing.
Five tribunes to protect their popular opinions, selected by them. One is Junius Brutus, another is Sicinius Velutus, and I don't know the rest. God, the mob should have torn the city down before the Senate gave in this far. It will eventually give them greater power and create bigger reasons for rebellion.
Five tribunes. Officials chosen by them to protect their interests. Junius Brutus is one. Sicinius Velutus is another. I don't even want to know the rest. The government gave up its authority. The Senate should have been destroyed before it got this far. This is the beginning of the end — these tribunes are just going to give them ideas, make them bolder, start them planning bigger revolts.
five tribunes for the people their choices junius brutus sicinius velutus the city's lost this will cause rebellion
This is strange.
This is extraordinary.
This is crazy.
this is strange this changes everything
Go get you home, you fragments.
Now go home, you worthless pieces of trash.
Get out of here, all of you. Go home.
go home get out go away
Where’s Caius Martius?
Where is Caius Martius?
Where's Caius Martius?
where's martius we need him now
Here. What’s the matter?
Here. What is the news?
Right here. What is it?
here what's happening
The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.
The Volscians are in arms.
The Volscians — they're mobilizing for war.
volscians in arms war's coming
I am glad on’t. Then we shall ha’ means to vent
Our musty superfluity.
I'm glad of it. Now we can finally dump our excess population into action.
That's great news. Now we've got a way to get rid of all these useless people.
i'm glad finally war gives us an outlet
Martius, ’tis true that you have lately told us:
The Volsces are in arms.
Martius, what you've told us is true: the Volscians are mobilizing.
Your report was right, Martius. The Volscians are definitely preparing for war.
martius was right volscians are ready war's coming
They have a leader,
Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to’t.
I sin in envying his nobility,
And, were I anything but what I am,
I would wish me only he.
They have a leader — Tullus Aufidius — who will give you a real test. I envy his nobility, and if I were anything but who I am, I'd wish to be only him.
Their leader is Tullus Aufidius. He's brilliant — he's going to be a serious opponent. I actually envy him, his strength, his nobility. Honestly, if I could be someone else, I'd want to be him.
aufidius their leader noble strong i envy him i wish i was him
Solid, loyal, measured — the professional soldier's professional soldier. He doesn't dominate scenes but enables Martius at every turn. Watch for how his praise is always genuine and his judgment always sound.
You have fought together.
You've fought each other before.
You two have met in battle already.
you've fought him before already
Were half to half the world by th’ ears and he
Upon my party, I’d revolt, to make
Only my wars with him. He is a lion
That I am proud to hunt.
If the whole world were split in half and fighting each other, and Aufidius were on my side, I'd switch sides just to keep fighting only him. He's a lion — and I'm proud to hunt him.
If it was World War III and Aufidius was on my team, I'd defect just to keep facing him one-on-one. He's a lion, and that's what a warrior should be hunting.
if the world split in half at war if aufidius was on my side i'd switch just to face him alone he's a lion i'm proud to hunt him
Then, worthy Martius,
Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
Then, worthy Martius, follow Cominius to these wars.
Okay, Martius. You're going to be under Cominius's command in this campaign.
follow cominius into the war it's time
It is your former promise.
It's what you promised before.
This is what you already agreed to do.
you promised already time to go
Sir, it is,
And I am constant.—Titus Lartius, thou
Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus’ face.
What, art thou stiff? Stand’st out?
I know, and I'll keep it. Titus Lartius — you'll see me strike at Tullus once again. What's wrong? Are you staying behind?
I remember. I'm good for it. Titus — you're going to watch me go one more round with Tullus. What about you? You staying here?
i remember i'll go Titus lartius i'll fight aufidius again what about you staying behind
The old warrior who refuses to act his age — 'I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with th' other / Ere stay behind this business.' Brief but defining: he sets a standard of physical commitment that even Martius respects.
No, Caius Martius,
I’ll lean upon one crutch and fight with th’ other
Ere stay behind this business.
No, Caius Martius. I'll lean on one crutch and fight with the other before I stay behind this business.
No way. I'll be on crutches and still be fighting before I miss this war.
no i'll lean on one crutch fight with the other before i stay behind
O, true bred!
Now that's true breeding — true nobility.
Now that's real courage. That's what I'm talking about.
true bred real nobility that's courage
Brutus and Sicinius are often played as villains — cynical manipulators who destroy a great man. But look at the closing dialogue of this scene more carefully. Brutus correctly analyzes the Cominius-Coriolanus dynamic, accurately predicts that Martius's pride will undo him, and begins building the political case immediately. They are not lying about Coriolanus: he really is excessively proud, really does hold the people in contempt, really would suppress their rights if he could. Their strategy — use his pride against him — is dishonest in execution but honest in its reading of who he is. The play never lets us fully hate them, because it keeps showing us that their fears about Coriolanus are well-founded. They are the institutionalists, protecting democratic machinery against a man who would dismantle it. Whether that makes them heroes or villains depends on which Rome you think Shakespeare is defending.
Your company to th’ Capitol, where I know
Our greatest friends attend us.
Now to the Capitol, where our most important allies are waiting.
Let's head to the Capitol. Our best supporters are waiting there.
to the capitol our greatest friends wait there
Lead you on.
Follow Cominius. We must follow you;
Right worthy your priority.
Lead the way. Follow Cominius. We must follow you — you deserve to lead.
You first. Follow the general. We'll follow you. You've earned first place.
lead on follow cominius we follow you you deserve it
Noble Martius.
Noble Martius.
Sir.
noble martius honor
Hence to your homes, begone.
Go home. Leave.
Get out of here. Go back to your houses.
go home leave go away
Nay, let them follow.
The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither
To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutineers,
Your valour puts well forth. Pray follow.
No, let them follow. The Volscians have plenty of grain. Take these rats there so they can gnaw away at Volscian supplies. You impressive rebels — your courage is impressive. Go ahead, follow.
Actually, wait. Let them come. The Volscians have grain to spare. You rats can go scavenge their food supplies. You mutineers are all fired up now — go ahead, follow me.
let them follow volscians have grain take these rats to gnaw it away mutineers your courage come along
Precise, strategic, always calculating the angle. He rarely leads with feeling; he observes and notes. Watch for how he and Brutus complete each other's thoughts — they function as a single political organism.
Was ever man so proud as is this Martius?
Was there ever a man as proud as Martius is?
Did you ever see anyone as arrogant as that guy?
ever seen someone so proud as martius
The sharper analyst of the pair. He understands Martius better than anyone else in this scene and is already thinking three moves ahead. Watch for his political insight: he's often right about what will happen, even when he's wrong about what it means.
He has no equal.
He has no equal.
Nobody's even close.
he's unmatched no equal nobody like him
When we were chosen tribunes for the people—
Now that we've been chosen as tribunes for the people—
And now that we're the people's tribunes—
now that we're tribunes for the people chosen by them
Marked you his lip and eyes?
Did you notice his face and eyes?
Did you see the way he looked at us? His face?
did you see his lip his eyes
Nay, but his taunts.
No, but his insults — his mocking tone.
His insults. The way he mocked us.
his taunts his mocking how he dismissed us
Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.
When he gets worked up, he doesn't spare even the gods.
When he gets angry, he'll curse anyone — even God.
when he's angry he spares nothing not even gods
Bemock the modest moon.
He'd even mock the moon.
He'd make fun of the moon itself.
he'd mock the moon everything
The present wars devour him! He is grown
Too proud to be so valiant.
The wars we're about to fight will exhaust him. He's grown too proud to stay valiant.
The war is going to consume him. He's gotten so arrogant that it's going to undermine his actual strength.
the coming war will devour him too proud now to be valiant
Such a nature,
Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder
His insolence can brook to be commanded
Under Cominius.
A man of this nature — intoxicated by success — disdains even the ground he walks on at noon. But I wonder: can his arrogance accept taking orders from Cominius?
When someone like that gets a taste of victory, it goes to his head. He despises everyone around him — even his own shadow. I'm just wondering how long he can stand taking orders from Cominius.
success intoxicates him he disdains his shadow at noon can he accept orders from cominius
Fame, at the which he aims,
In whom already he’s well graced, cannot
Better be held nor more attained than by
A place below the first; for what miscarries
Shall be the General’s fault, though he perform
To th’ utmost of a man, and giddy censure
Will then cry out of Martius “O, if he
Had borne the business!”
His reputation — the thing he's already famous for — can't get greater unless he takes a smaller position. If things go wrong, it'll be Cominius's fault, even if Martius performs perfectly. And the crowd will say 'Martius should have been in charge.' But if everything goes well, the people's opinion will steal credit from Cominius and give it to Martius.
Here's the thing: his reputation is already sky-high. The only way he loses is if he takes a subordinate role. When things go wrong — and they will — they'll blame Cominius, even if Martius does everything right. Everybody will say 'If Martius was running this, we'd be winning.' But if we actually win, all the credit goes to Martius anyway, and Cominius gets forgotten.
his fame already high can't go higher unless he's second if things fail cominius blamed if we win martius gets credit either way
Besides, if things go well,
Opinion that so sticks on Martius shall
Of his demerits rob Cominius.
Also, the crowd's admiration will stick so hard to Martius that it will steal away Cominius's credit.
The public's so obsessed with Martius that they'll forget Cominius even exists.
the people's opinion sticks to martius robs cominius of credit
Come.
Half all Cominius’ honours are to Martius,
Though Martius earned them not, and all his faults
To Martius shall be honours, though indeed
In aught he merit not.
Exactly. Half of Cominius's honors will go to Martius, though Martius didn't earn them. And all of Martius's faults will be turned into honors, even though he didn't deserve them.
Yeah. Cominius will do half the work and Martius will get the praise. And any flaws Martius has will somehow become virtues in people's eyes.
martius gets half of cominius's honors didn't earn them martius's flaws become honors undeserved
Let’s hence and hear
How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
More than in singularity, he goes
Upon this present action.
Let's leave here and see how the military orders are carried out and how he conducts himself on the battlefield — beyond the usual leadership patterns.
Let's get out of here and watch what happens. See how he operates in the war. See what he does that's different from normal commanders.
let's go watch the dispatch see how he acts in the war more than typical
Let’s along.
Let's go.
Come on.
let's go
The Reckoning
The play opens at full boil: a mob, a patrician spinner of tales, and then the man himself — Coriolanus before he has the name — whose first words are pure contempt for the people he's supposed to protect. Menenius manages to talk everyone down with a fable that insults the citizens even as it soothes them. Then war gives Martius what he craves, and the scene ends with the two tribunes watching him go, already calculating how to use his pride against him. The audience has met every major faction in a single scene and sensed that the peace just declared is entirely provisional.
If this happened today…
Imagine a city during a food-price crisis. A crowd has assembled outside City Hall to demand action. The charismatic chief of staff comes out and tells them a long story about how the body politic works — basically explaining that the stomach (Wall Street, the Senate, the Fed) processes everything for everyone's benefit, even if it looks like it just sits there. The crowd half-buys it, half-hates it. Then the general they all love/hate walks out, calls them rats, and gets excited when someone mentions there's a war on. He leaves. Two city council members stay behind on the steps, swiping their phones, quietly noting that his arrogance is going to be their best weapon in the next election cycle.