Coriolanus Act 2.1.1 Part 1

Act 2

Scene 2.1.1

A street in the City

The mood on the streets of Rome was jubilant and cheerful with merry making everywhere. There was no official news of the war had ended, but the whispers in the wind had traveled to the city. The Noble were skeptics of such whispers; preference to be told by their appointed Consuls of such an outcome than to speculate. However, the Commoners held no reservation to the truth it may carry. In their mind, such whispers like many others did not manifest by it but had an originator which had reasons to spread the news. Since it was good news and less hardship to their well being, they took upon themselves to hold their own festivals of fun, with food and drinks.

On the cheerful end was the rejoicing at the end of another war; it meant the return of the fathers and sons to grace once more the dining tables. On the somber end were the grieving families who took to the temples to pray for their lost family members. They offered food and drinks to the ones who came to offer them some support in morale or benefits of other kind.

There was one other smaller group; the observers of the people on both sides. They were the ones you would find seated in the sidewalk cafes or perched on the balcony holding their wine glass while their eyes looked with disdain on the scene before them.

“The augured tells me we shall have news tonight.” Ever the diplomat, Menenius was like a chameleon that was able to blend into any shadows. He was then outside of the shadows, but below the canopy of the café upper level balcony who had lent him of its use to shield the sun. He held the glass of fruity wine favored for its taste to be endured during such hours of the day.

“Good or bad?” Brutus the fashioned champion of the Commoners sometimes could be a brood in any conversation. He was seated on the easy chair with his legs loosely placed on the balcony rails for comfort. Such a posture would be shunned by the Noble, but we were then in the Commoners’ lair.

“Not according to the prayer of the people, for they love not Marcius.” Menenius played to the tune of the other. He was not committal but would like to hear the other’s view.

“Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.” Sicinius who was seated at a distance away assumed to be ignorant of the conversation then spoke up. He was the rapier of the two; with his wits and interjection when it was needed to spur the moment. A finer diplomat then the brooding Brutus, but he knew Menenius too well to show all his aces then.

“Pray you, who do the wolf, love?” Menenius like the predator did not pounced in but stalk in circles on the prey.

“The lamb.” Sicinius rebuked out. He then walked over with the stride that befits of a dancer looking to burst onto the stage.

“Aye, to devour him, as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.” Menenius drew the predator to bare their fangs.

“He’s a lamb indeed that baas like a bear.” Brutus ever the crude personality hid no emotions of his for the so named hero.

“He’s a bear indeed that lives like a lamb.” Menenius forgets himself and rushed to the defense of his protégé. “You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.”

“Well, sir.” Both Sicinius and Brutus replied in unison. They smiled at their spontaneous reaction. It was their strength to take up any challenge heads on; like the bull against the matador. Or was it the lion with the slaves.

“In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two have not in abundance?” The older diplomat had strained at his patience with those two who had battled his protégé.

“He’s poor in no one fault, but stored it all.” A baseless reply was expected from Brutus who held no refinement in his talks. Menenius was to rebut with harsher words had not Sicinius replied.

“Especially in pride.” Sicinius added in to appease the one asked.

“And topping all others in boasting.” Brutus had to stamp his mark then with a hearty laughter. A clout he was beneath the dressing.

“That is strange now.” Menenius held back his irritation and composed his mind for the discussion. It was his topic to begin with. Do you tow know how you are censured here in the city? I mean of us with the right hand file? Do you?”

The right hand was the symbol in symbol of moving your best men to the right.

“Why? How are we censured?” Both men had sat up and were to listen to this elderly pompous Noble on their well received reports. Menenius was taken aback by the reaction bit on his tongue for the wrong strike with the chess move. Nevertheless, the old fox was not without a hole to crawl back in. Or out.

“Because you talk of pride now…” Menenius looked to the expression. “Will you not be angry?”

“Well…..well, sir.” Both men muttered out and in the end nodded.

“Why, it’s not a great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience.” Menenius sensed the upper hand on the discussion took on a tinge of sarcasm. “Give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at your pleasure; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you in being so.”

It was then Menenius looked to the sky as if he was asking for the divine view before he glared to the two seated there.

“You blame Marcius for being proud?”

“We do it not alone, sir.” Brutus was unfazed by the other man’ accusation. He had been in the same limelight during his youth when he was more expressive in physical terms with his views on the Senate. He still had the scars of his interaction with the bruising enforcers of the law then. A badge that he displayed to the younger candidates like a sign for entrance to be in the ranks. He was revered by them as Brutus the Boxer.

“I know you can do very little alone,” Menenius held in contempt the brash one there. “For your helps are many, or else you actions would grow wondrous single; your abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.”

Brutus squirmed in his seat but Sicinius held him back. The older man continues on.

“You talk of pride. O that you could turn your eyes towards the nape of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! O that you could.”