Here there are puzzling expressions in detail, but they have on the whole been satisfactorily explained, and it is not to them that Coleridge refers.[309] He says: “I have always thought this in itself so beautiful speech the least explicable from the mood and full intention of the speaker of any in the whole works of Shakespeare.” It strikes one indeed as a series of disconnected jottings that have as little to do with each other as with the situation and attitude of Aufidius. First he gives reason for expecting the capture of Rome; then he enumerates defects in Coriolanus that have led to his banishment with a supplementary acknowledgment of his merits; next he makes general reflections on the relation of virtue to the construction put upon it, and on the danger that lies in conspicuous power: thereafter he points out that things are brought to nought by themselves or their likes; and finally he predicts that when Rome is taken, he will get the better of his rival.
Is there here a mere congeries of thoughts as one chance suggestion leads to another with which it happens to be casually associated; or does one thread of continuous meaning run through the whole? I would venture to maintain the latter opinion with more confidence than I do, if Coleridge had not been so emphatic.
In the first place we have to remember what goes before. The report of the Lieutenant confirms the jealousy of Aufidius, who is further embittered by the hint that he is losing credit, but reflects that he can bring weighty charges against Coriolanus, and concludes:
He hath left undone
That which shall break his neck or hazard mine,
Whene’er we come to our account.
Thereupon the Lieutenant meaningly rejoins:
Sir, I beseech you, think you he’ll carry Rome?
It is a contingency to be reckoned with, for clearly if Rome falls, any previous mistakes or complaisances alleged against the conqueror will find ready pardon. So Aufidius discusses the matter in the light of these two main considerations: (1) that he must get rid of his rival, and (2) that his rival may do the state a crowning service. He admits that Coriolanus, what with his own efficiency, what with the friendliness of one class in Rome and the helplessness of the remainder, is likely to achieve the grand exploit. How then will Aufidius’ chances stand? Formerly Marcius deserved as well of his own country when he had overthrown Corioli, yet that did not secure him. What qualities in himself discounted his services to Rome and may again discount his services to Antium? Pride of prosperity, disregard of his opportunities, his unaccommodating peremptory behaviour—all of these faults which in point of fact afterwards contributed to his death—brought about his banishment, though truly he had merit enough to make men overlook such trifles. This shows how worth depends on the way it is taken, and how ability, even when of the sterling kind that wins its own approval, may find the throne of its public recognition to be, more properly, its certain grave. Thus likes counteract likes; the greater the popularity, the greater the reaction; the greater the superiority, the more certainly it will balk itself. So, and this is the conclusion of the whole matter, even when Marcius has won Rome by a greater conquest than when he won Corioli, the result will be the same. His proud, imprudent and overbearing conduct will obscure his high deserts. These will be construed only by public opinion, and the very prowess in which he delights will rouse an adulation, which, when he is no longer required, will swing round to its opposite. So his success will correct itself. His very triumph over Rome will be guarantee for Aufidius’ triumph over him.
If this amplified paraphrase give the meaning, that meaning is coherent enough and is quite suitable to the mood and attitude of the speaker.