(V. iii. 132.)
But such an all-hail was not for Coriolanus to win. It is one of the charges which Plutarch brings against him in the Comparison, that he neglected the opportunity.
By this dede of his he tooke not away the enmity that was betwene both people.
But how could he, when he had no special desire for the well-being of either, and when his heart was unchanged? His family affection has got the better of his narrower egoism, but even after sacrificing a portion of his revenge, he remains essentially the man he was, and is no more capable of pursuing a judicious and conciliatory policy now for the good of the whole and his own good, than of old in the market-place of Rome.
For to the end he is imprudent, headstrong, and violent as ever. He sees quite clearly that his compliance with his mother’s prayer must be dangerous, if not mortal, to him. Dangerous it is, mortal it need not be. With a little more self-restraint and circumspection, a little less aggressiveness and truculence, he might still preserve both his life and his authority. It is his unchastened spirit, not the questionable treaty, that is the direct cause of his death. Indeed, in a sense, the treaty had nothing to do with it. In Shakespeare, though not in Plutarch, Tullus, as we have seen, when he still anticipated the capture of Rome, determined to make away with his rival so soon as that should take place; and from what we know of Coriolanus’ character, and Tullus’ comprehension of it[263] and general astuteness in management, we feel sure that the scheme was bound to succeed, if Coriolanus persisted in his old ways. Even as things have turned out, Marcius has all the odds in his favour. His triumphal entry into Antium is a repetition of his triumphal entry into Rome. When, according to the stage direction, “Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People,” the malcontents turn to Aufidius:
First Conspirator. Your native town you enter’d like a post,
And had no welcomes home; but he returns,
Splitting the air with noise.
Second Conspirator.And patient fools,
Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear