She tooke her daughter in lawe, and Martius children with her, and being accompanied with all the other Romaine ladies, they went in troupe together unto the Volsces camp: whome when they sawe, they of them selves did both pitie and reverence her, and there was not a man amonge them that once durst say a worde unto her. Nowe was Martius set then in his chayer of state, with all the honours of a generall, and when he had spied the women coming a farre of, he marveled what the matter ment: but afterwardes knowing his wife which came formest, he determined at the first to persist in his obstinate and inflexible rancker. But overcomen in the ende with naturall affection, and being altogether altered to see them; his harte would not serve him to tarie their comming to his chayer, but comming down in hast, he went to meete them, and first he kissed his mother, and imbraced her a pretie while, then his wife and litle children. And Nature so wrought with him, that the[292] teares fell from his eyes, and he coulde not keepe him selfe from making much of them, but yeelded to the affection of his bloode as if he had bene violently caried with the furie of a most swift running streame. After he had thus lovingly received them, and perceiving that his mother Volumnia would beginne to speake to him, he called the chiefest of the counsell of the Volsces to heare what she would say. Then she spake in this sorte: “If we held our peace, (my sonne) and determined not to speake, the state of our poor bodies, and present sight of our rayment, would easely bewray to thee what life we have led at home, since thy exile and abode abroad. But thinke nowe with thy selfe, how much more unfortunatly,[293] then all the women livinge we are come hether, considering that the sight which should be most pleasaunt to all other to beholde, spitefull fortune hath made most fearefull to us: making my selfe to see my sonne, and my daughter here, her husband, besieging the walles of his native countrie. So as that which is thonly comforte to all other in their adversitie and miserie, to pray unto the goddes and to call to them for aide; is the onely thinge which plongeth us into most deepe perplexitie. For we can not (alas) together pray, both for victorie, for our countrie, and for safetie of thy life also: but a worlde of grievous curses, yea more then any mortall enemie can heape uppon us, are forcibly wrapt up in our prayers. For the bitter soppe of most hard choyce is offered thy wife and children, to forgoe the one of the two: either to lose the persone of thy selfe, or the nurse of[294] their native contrie. For my selfe (my sonne) I am determined not to tarie, till fortune in my life time do make an ende of this warre. For if I cannot persuade thee, rather to doe good unto both parties than to overthrowe and destroye the one, preferring love and nature before the malice and calamitie of warres: thou shalt see, my sonne, and trust unto it,[295] thou shalt no soner marche forward to assault thy countrie, but thy foote shall treade upon thy mothers wombe, that brought thee first into this world. And I maye not deferre to see the daye, either that my sonne be led prisoner in triumphe by his naturall country men, or that he him selfe doe triumphe of them, and of his naturall countrie. For if it were so, that my request tended to save thy countrie, in destroying the Volsces: I must confesse, thou wouldest hardly and doubtfully resolve on that. For as to destroye thy naturall countrie it is altogether unmete and unlawfull; so were it not just, and lesse honorable, to betraye those that put their trust in thee. But my only demaunde consisteth to make a gayle[296] deliverie of all evills, which delivereth equall benefit and safety both to the one and the other, but most honorable for the Volsces. For it shall appeare, that having victorie in their hands, they have of speciall favour graunted us singular graces; peace, and amitie, albeit them selves have no lesse parte of both, then we. Of which good, if so it came to passe, thy selfe is thonly authour, and so hast thou thonly honour. But if it faile, and fall out contrarie: thy selfe alone deservedly shall carie the shameful reproche and burden of either partie. So, though the ende of warre be uncertaine, yet this notwithstanding is most certaine: that if it be thy chaunce to conquer, this benefit shalt thou reape of thy goodly conquest, to be chronicled the plague and destroyer of thy countrie. And if fortune also overthrowe thee, then the worlde will saye, that through desire to revenge thy private injuries, thou hast for ever undone thy good friendes, who dyd most lovingly and curteously receyve thee.” Martius gave good eare unto his mothers wordes, without interrupting her speache at all: and after she had sayed what she would, he held his peace a prety while,[297] and annswered not a worde. Hereupon she beganne again to speake unto him, and sayed: “My sonne, why doest thou not aunswer me? Doest thou think it good altogether to geve place unto thy choller and desire of revenge, and thinkest thou it not honestie for thee to graunt[298] thy mothers request in so weighty a cause? doest thou take it honorable for a noble man, to remember the wrongs and injuries done him: and doest not in like case thinke it an honest noble man’s parte, to be thankefull for the goodnes that parents doe shewe to their children, acknowledging the duety and reverence they ought to beare unto them?[299] No man living is more bounde to shewe him selfe thankefull in all partes and respects then thy selfe: who so unnaturally sheweth all ingratitude.[300] Moreover (my sonne) thou hast sorely taken of thy countrie, exacting grievous payments apon them, in revenge of the injuries offered thee: besides, thou hast not hitherto shewed thy poore mother any curtesie.[301] And therefore it is not only honest, but due unto me, that without compulsion I should obtaine my so just and reasonable request of thee. But since by reason I cannot persuade thee to it, to what purpose do I deferre[302] my last hope?” And with these wordes her selfe, his wife and children fell downe upon their knees before him. Martius seeing that could refraine no longer but went straight and lifte her up, crying out: “Oh mother, what have you done to me?” And holding her hard by the right hand, “Oh mother,” sayed he, “You have wonne a happy victorie for your countrie, but mortall and unhappy for your sonne: for I see[303] myself vanquished by you alone.”
Shakespeare’s Version.
The narrative which ushers in the speech is of course left to the actors. It is interesting, however, to observe that Shakespeare varies from his authorities in making Coriolanus embrace not his mother but his wife in the first instance. He inserts too the conversation, that, at first merely personal, leads up to the grand question. Then Volumnia proceeds with her speech. It is impossible to note all the minute changes that Shakespeare makes. The Italics in the following reprint represent most generously what he has borrowed, for even in the clauses and phrases indicated as loans there is abundant evidence of his own irrepressible dramatic and poetic originality.
Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;