Coriolanus Act Scene 1.4.1

The war

Scene 1.4.1

The war began with the Volsces

The armored tanks of Volsces 2^nd Armored Division; it was a wonder in development of the warfare design. The tank structure was made of three sections; the bottom was the dual tracks covered with the armor plating and the fortified shovel design at the front to act as a bulldozer. It measured over sixty five feet with a width of twenty and height of eight feet from the ground. It weighed over fifty tons in full load with five men crews and sixty five projectiles of various forms. On its middle section was the main gun; the five inches diameter bored barrel projected at over twenty feet outward could laid waste to any current opposing tanks at a distance of over five hundred feet. There was the twin mounted phaser multi barrel blasters that fired up to a thousand rounds per minutes that could mowed down a platoon of troopers in mere seconds. On the upper section was the swivel turret with the extra two inch gun that was used to battle the armored carriers or in support of the main gun when in close combat.

There were twenty five armored tanks with heavily fortified battle plates, and terrifying cannon blasters supported by twenty armored trooper carriers roared onto the valley open ground. The ten artillery pieces of the 1^st Company with their own five inches guns mounted on armored chassis with tracks, will covered their approach with barrage of projectiles or smoke bombs ahead of the tanks approaches. Their target was the cluster of five tanks with seven armored troop carriers on the other side of the valley.

It was an early dawn attack with no advance notice to the enemies.

“Tank 3, moved up to your right. I want the tree line there covered.” Senior Commander Bernard raised it on the comms, while his eyes watched the monitor screens on the carrier walls. He was well behind the line in Carrier codename Father.

“I read you, Father.” Tank 3 Commander Ristan replied. He was a young tanker; just got his promotion before the war, but he had seen battles in the early skirmishes. He directed the driver of the tank to move up the valley slope. It was a good move for it exposed the enemies there. He first saw the dark silhouette of what may had been its barrel; the long hundred and twenty round cored barrel with the length of twenty five feet. While the tank gunned up its engine to move up the slope, it made one detrimental error; the exposed belly was the most vulnerable part of the tank.

“Driver…” The warning came too late. The sabot projectile fired from the long barrel had its target defined. The projectile travelling at three hundred feet per second exploded on impact on contact with the armored plate, thus tearing a hole in the plate while the secondary explosives penetrate inside the tank. Once it’s inside, it will remain inert while the timer counts down the delayed settings. In three seconds, the explosive will released out a deadly pure energy form which would kill anything organic and electronic thus rendering the tank ineffective but salvageable for use by the enemy.

 “Tank 3, give me your status?” Senior Commander Bernard shouted his order, but Tank 3 was a burnt out salvage metal piece. He then turned to call on Tank 5 and 6, but the battle had started. The first shot by the Roman tank was the calling sign for the hidden nine tanks on the tree line to release their projectiles. The combined power of the waiting predators took out half the Volsces tanks. Then the stationery five Volsces tanks roared to life and applied their firepower to remove two Roman tanks but them all their numbers in the fight.

It was only the beginning then.

A number of concealed two man units with shoulder mounted cannons rose up on the valley bed to fire at the armored troop carriers. These shoulder mounted cannons named Thor were the firepower of the troopers against the armored vehicles, but its limitation was the distance. It was akin to a shooting arcade game with fifty projectiles crisscrossing the short distance to their targets. The projectiles were not as powerful as the Sabot, but it had the same effect with the second explosives releasing the incendiary material on exploding. The fire will burned at a high temperature and destroyed everything in sight.

The main blow to the Volsces had yet to come.

The sky was soon covered with the swooping form of the drones that roared from the trees; five of them with their wings span carrying missiles. The drones were named the Geese will flew sorties over the remaining armors and tanks. The missiles on the drones were of the high incendiary and it will burn the hull of the tanks or carriers.

“Mother of Gods, we lost the battle.” Senior Commander Bernard claimed his salvation with the Gods then. He had seen his command eliminated in twenty nine minutes and thirty seconds. He did not have to retreat at all, for the drones have his carrier in the sight. His sent off to the other world was in a fiery funeral pyre of molten metal.

That was only of the battles in that war but the outcome was majority the same. The Romans had been prepared for war since the last unfinished one. The reason for the low supply of food was because the funds channeled to the preparation of war.

Grains were needed to bargain for weapons.

Cominius was a good strategist but he was a bad economist.

The Volsces had one more person to fear besides Caius Marcius.

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.3.2

Scene 1.3.2

Lady Valeria intrudes

Virgilia stood up and grabbed her electronic pad with relief that she was to be excused. She was looking forward to spend her day in bed with the passages of love and not of war.

“Beseech you give leave to retire myself.” Virgilia took to the doorway but she was stopped by the elder lady. 

“Methinks I hear hither your husband’s drum; see him pluck Aufidius down by the hair. As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him.”

Virgilia looked to the elder lady. She must had taken one much of her drink, or she flounder in the glories of bloodletting events.

“Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus.” The elder lady stood up and stood to attention like a leader waving on his men. “Come, you cowards! You were got in fear, though you were born in Rome.”

“His bloody brow with his mailed hand then wiping forth he goes.” The elder lady imitated the motion with her own acts. “Like to a harvest man that’s tasked to mow; or all or lose his hire.”

“His bloody brow?  Jupiter, no blood.” Virgilia took to task on the idea of the killing.

“Away, you fool! It more becomes a man than gilt his trophy.” The elder lady pushed forth her pronounced breasts and cradled her hands below it. “The breasts of Hecuba, when she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelier than Hector’s forehead when it spit forth blood.”

Hecuba was the Queen of Troy. She had a dozen children and Hector was one of them. He died in the war of Troy while his mother held him to her breasts. It was then Volumnia saw the servant still standing there and held her composure.

“We are fit to bid her welcome.” The servant left to escort the newly arrived Lady Valeria. The lady dressed in the silky shades of yellow dress with the gradual green shadow on the hems strolled in. She was detested by Virgilia for being a bitch and a social parasite. The lady had once made her climb among the Noble by soliciting her wares through devious means. There were rumors that she knew no love but lust for power.

“My ladies both, good day to you.” Lady Valeria did a curtsy bow withstanding her posture less her orbs fell out of the lower cut on her dress.

“Sweet madam!” Volumnia replied the greeting. She bathed in the limelight of visitors to her home. It had been of constant lately with the exploits of Marcius at the battle fronts. Then he was marching to another one made the home a center of gossips of his exploits.

“How do you both? You are manifest housekeepers.” Lady Valeria stole her look to the panel before Volumnia. “What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith.”

Lady Valeria looked up with envious that the Major never looked further than the apple tree. He would have a better past if he had seen her as the elegant nymph by the pond. That thought however did not evade the eyes of Virgilia whose thought of a smite remark for the lady; never a finer spot to be beneath the legs of the house master. Maybe it was not to be. Lady Valeria looked to Virgilia.

“How does your little son?”

“I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.” Virgilia gave a slight bow to her curtsy in return.

“He had rather see the swords and hear a drum than look up his schoolmaster.” Volumnia called on the attention towards her.

“Oh my word, the father’s son.” Valeria looked to the elder lady. She had come to enquire on the hero and was given a tale to tell. “I was with him last Wednesday. I could have sworn he was a pretty boy. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly and when he caught it, he let it go again, and after it again. He did several times and …Whether it was the fall; he set his teeth and tore it. I warrant how he mammocked it!”

Valeria ended with a gleeful smile. If she had more cells in her head than at her bosom, she would have seen the aggressiveness of the child was worrying, but the only aggressiveness was her acts beneath the sheets.

“One of his father’s moods”, Volumnia attest to the behavior as if it was normal for children to remove life.

‘Indeed, it’s a Noble child” Valeria cracked back and it caught the attention of Virgilia. The later intervened with the offer of a seat to Lady Valeria but the later was jumpy on moving up.

“Come, lay aside your stitchery. I must have you play the idle housewife with this afternoon on a lady.” Valeria had moved to the doorway but Virgilia declined her invitation.

“No, good madam; I will not be out of doors.” Virgilia grabbed her pad to go back to her room.

“Not out of doors!” Valeria exhumed out in despair but Volumnia was ever insistent that Virgilia does her social responsibility to visit the lady in question asked by the Lady Valeria.

“She shall, she shall.” Volumnia encouraged her daughter in law but Virgilia had declined strongly.

“Indeed by no, by your patience; I’ll not over the threshold till my lord return from the wars.”

“Fine,” Valeria then reasoned with her.  “You confined yourself most unreasonably; come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.”

“I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers, but I cannot go there.” Virgilia stood her ground, and Volumnia asked.

“Why I pray you?”

“You would not be another Penelope; they say with all the yarn she spun in Ulysses’ absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths.” Penelope in the tale on Trojan War had used the excuse of weaving the shroud for her husband, Ulysses to deter off the admirers who asked for her hand.

“Come, I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity.” Valerie looked at the tapestry and noted its uneven edges. “Come, you shall go with us.”

Virgilia declined strongly again. Valerie sighed and then changed her tone.

“Come along and I will have you tales of your husband.” But Virgilia eager as she was then, but she knew there was not possible for any news.

“Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news for him last night.” Valerie pressed on her point.  Virgilia was all ears then.

“In earnest, it’s true; I heard a Consul speak it. Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the 

general with one part of our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubts prevailing to make it brief wars. This on mine honor; and so; I pray, go with us.”

“Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.” Volumnia ever eager to leave.

“In truth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. Come, good sweet lady.” Valerie reached for the door. “Virgilia, turn thy solemnest outdoor and go along with us.”

"No,” Virgilia sighed. “At a word, madam, indeed I must not. I wish you much mirth.”

“Well then, farewell.” Valerie wished her.

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.3.1

The humble wives

Scene 1.3.1

The house of Caius Marcius

The home of Caius Marcius was a humble one for a noble. It boasts of a double level brick structure with only five bedrooms, one library and living area, with a modest kitchen. The servants of the household are few and were housed in the adjacent twin bedroom single level structure. It was not the appearance of its ground that was of interest, but the sub-level below the ground. It was not just below the ground but at a depth of ten feet. It was no grave but a secured bunker for the household with connecting tunnels that exit at the edge of the garden outside or to the well. The well was a must for the household in the case of breakout of war for rationing may impair the garden’s growth. Such preparation was that of the patriarch of the household who had died from battle wounds while he held the rank of Major. He was such a thorough man that he planned well for his family well being.  Pardon my earlier passages of words, but the sub-level was only for the immediate family and not the servants. One must be careful in how the distinction of the Noble and Commoners are laid.

Volumnia Marcius, the fine widow dressed in the fine silk yellow frock over her inner softer silky afternoon leisure gown of the spring flowers designs had lazed herself there on the high back seat. She adored the place as it was the favorite of her departed trooper husband who died with the pips denoting his rank as Major; herself was of finer breed with her father retiring when he was a Colonel. She had married the young officer named Antione Marcius on the blessing of her father. She still recalled her father’s encouraging words.

“A fine gentleman and an officer.” The older man had praised his soon to be son in law. “I am pleased you found your place with him.”

Volumnia was ever pleased with her choice, although she had a few others to consider. What drew her to the officer was his pride of being a military officer. He had excelled in his military class and was an excellent sportsman in several fields. He once boasted to her that he would be General and would see to that the others are all trained to his requirements. It was how he decided to stand out from his peers that made him the choice for the tasks. Nevertheless, he excelled and got himself promoted to the rank of Major. He was to be in line for the rank of Colonel, but the last task had him pinned down with wounds more than medals. He was given a hero’s burial with his commanding officer delivering a wonderful recital on the bravery of his officer.

Volumnia; a widow at the mid thirties held close to her the other living version of her lover; his son Caius Marcius. She had vowed that her son will surpass the father to be the Colonel. It was not a dream but an ambition of sort to her. She had him enrolled in the military school and watched him churned by the best to be the best. He was every bit the chip off the block, or was it a chunk off the inherited qualities of the Marcius.

“I pray you, daughter,” Volumnia seated on the high seat while her fingers waltzed on the smooth panel that will translate it to a woven piece of art when it’s processed by the craft machine. It was a ladies plaything then for their social events. The panel deprived of the needles and threads as used by the Commoner could be tedious to the lady delicate touches. More to it, those sharp needles are a bane to their nimble fingers; a prick would tarnish the clear skin on the finger edge. With this panel, the work of arts would be translated by minute nanites to the machine and re-produced into a fine tapestry.

“Express yourself in a more comfortable sort; if my son were my husband,” Volumnia looked to the grand hologram that stood over the fireplace in the library they were in. He does look every bit like Caius. Truly it was a remarkable quality of the traits that were carried through the generations. “I should freelier rejoice in the absence wherein he won honor than in the embraces of his bed where he would show most love.”

Virgilia Cassel who was seated by the side of her mother in law paused in her reading of the electronic pad while enjoying her afternoon aperitif before her late day nap. She was a young mother having married the man in a short whirlwind of romance. After all, Virgilia was a dreamer with her thoughts ever on the contents of the notes she gleaned off the electronic pad. She had dreamed of a dashing man who would sweep her off the feet, and laid his first kiss on her. It was in a placement of sequences; the sweeping ended on the moss bed by the pond while the kiss was more of lustful attempt by the man. It was rough and selfish but she felt that maybe the loving would be there later. It did come later; undeniably the sex was more gratifying than love. It was the aftermaths that gave her more joy, a bubbly boy that was ever incessant like the father. He was truly a handful when his father was not around, and when his father was around, she found herself handed more like before. She would have asked for more, but at times Caius came back with more needs of rest than love. Soon it was a series of wonderment if there was ever a time he could be as before, but she had resigned to her dream once more than.

Or was it fantasy that the mind could bring forth.

“Virgilia, pray hear me out.” The stern vocal tone of the elder lady cracked her dream state. She righted herself to be lady

like on the seat, and leaned forth to hear the elder lady ranting.

“When yet he was but tender bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way; when for a day of kings entreaties; a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding.” Virgilia heard the elder lady. She thought to herself; was it an hour then. I thought it was a spontaneous short time, and more times for us to keep decent for our return to her.

“I, considering how honor would become such a person~ that it was no better than picture like to hang by the wall, its renown made it not stir,” Virgilia looked to the hologram. He does seem to be in sight like the son. She then smiled, I was never her size; God forgive me if he ever knew what he may had missed.

“I was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame.” Volumnia sighed. “To a cruel war I sent him from whence he returned his brows bound with oak.”

Oaks he did not have in his shoulder panels, but a large bulbous pip it was. Virgilia smiled to her own thoughts.

“I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.” The elder lady raved on her son who was more than a shadow of the father.

Proved himself a man, he indeed; the words sprang to Virgilia’ mind but then I dawned on her that her husband was indeed in the same steps as his father. He may yet fall and never return.

“But had he died in the business, madam, how then?” Virgilia shuddered at the thought.

“Then his good report would have been my son; I therein would have found issue.” Volumnia spoke up in pride. “Hear me profess sincerely; had I a dozen sons each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine, and my good Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.”

Virgilia shuddered at the elder lady’s words. The wrench thinks I would gladly let my husband or son die needlessly for the country. I loved them and would hold them dear to my heart. If death will to come, let it be in my arms and loving care.

“Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.” The head of the servants announced.

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.2.1

Scene 1.2.1

Corioli Senate House

Tullus Aufidius dressed in his military ceremonial dressing of blue with red stripes on the left shoulder, stepped with confidence into the Senate Building. Tullus walk along the corridor towards the hall was announced by the sound of his knee high leather boots. It resonated off the tall walls that were guarded by the half dozen guards in the ceremonial dressing of the Royal Corioli Guards. It was ironic to adopt the name with the designation of Royal for there was no monarch in the history of Corioli. The last reading to remove the word Royal was rebutted with the statement that the word was only symbolic of the people as they are all royalty themselves.

Tullus stopped before the high doors of the Senate Hall. He need not knock as the sensor there will have announced his arrival. The doors slide open sideways and opened the Hall to the young General. He stepped in and the voice of the Senator coursed towards him.

“Your opinion is, Aufidius that they of Rome are entertained in our counsels, and how we may proceed.” The Senator stepped forth to ask. The hall was filled with the one hundred members with the Presiding Consul holding the hammer as the hundred and one member. His vote carried ten in the count, but there was never a need for his when all the statutes were passed without any members objecting. He looked to the assembled members; only nine were missing. That would not affect the quorum or the readings. Unlike the members of the Roman Senate, the ones in Corioli wore battle fatigues that were the nature of their life.

“Is it not yours?” Tullus replied. “Whatever had been in thought on in this state that could be brought to bodily act on Rome had circumvention?”

Tullus looked to the Senator for the reply. The Senate holds the power on the decision and yet they debate nonsensical on the action.

“Is it not four days gone since I heard them; these are the words, I think the letter here: yes, here it is.” Tullus reached into his frock to pull the piece of paper which the Senate had replied. He read from it.

“They have pressed a power, but it is unknown.” Tullus looked to the assembled Senators with puzzlement in his face. 

“Whether for east or west, the dearth is great. The people mutinous: and it is rumored, Cominius, Marcius…”

Tullus paused on the name and glared to the Senators. He who is Rome worse hated than among you, he muttered to himself.

“And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman; these three on this preparation. Consider of it.”

 “Our army’s in the field; we never yet doubt but Rome will answer to them.” The Senator who addressed Tullus spoke up. He was most defiant and protective of his army.

“You think to keep great pretenses when Rome had shown itself, which is in the hatching now. By the discovery, we shall be taken the action before Rome knows we were afoot.” Tullus vowed action before the situation gets desperate. The Senator smiled and then declared what was agreed before the arrival of the General.

“Noble Aufidius take your commission” The Senator looked to the others. “Let us alone guard Corioli.”

The Senator meant well that the Senate will sanction the new war, with its reading in the hall.

“Bring up your army, but I think you will find they are prepared for us.” The Senator beamed his confidence towards Tullus. Such confidence that Rome will be defeated soon.

“Oh doubt not that.” Tullus smiled. “I speak from certainties. I leave your honors. If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet, I will swear between us we shall strike till only one left standing.”

“The Gods assist you!” The assembled in the Hall hailed the General.

With that Tullus made his exit towards his army. 

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.2

Scene 1.2

Corioli

The other City

Corioli

The capital of Volsces

Volsci were the land that belonged to the Volsces. They came three hundred years ago on their ships to land after a bad storm had damaged more than two third of their ships. The scouts were sent out to check the land, and the news was favorable. It was uninhabited and their vessels were in dire needs of repairs. The leaders then decided to settle there instead of sailing on. They thrived on the land shadowed by the long range of mountains; delaying their exposure to the outside world. When those mountains were intersected into trails and then roads before the battles began.

The Volsces were not many, but they were reputable in their warring skills. Many enemies feared the Volsces but not the ever-conquering Romans. The two had clashed both as alliance of opposing sides. They won each other respect, but soon their conflict came direct. The Romans had expanded close to the other border, and then stopped but it invited border skirmishes which dragged from brief to extended battles. Soon those battles erupted into war.

The Romans had fought three wars with the Volsces, but each time it ended up in a stalemate.

Corioli was not spared the anguish of a long drawn conflict.

Its people had suffered in silent for the rulers of Volsces were unforgiving for those who revolt. They do not need an excuse to detain the accused and the trials were never needed while verdicts are extracted in torture. The military ruled with an iron fist, with the Tribunal holding sway over the nation’s politics with the other nations.

The people had no say in a number of matters like the age of conscript by force at eighteen for every third male in the pickup every year. The unselected ones are initiated to the farms or work factories. The age of retirement was only by death, maimed or when the age of fifty five where the servicemen would be given a piece of land to toil on until death. On his death, the land reverted to the state.

Such was the law in Volsces.

Tullus Aufidius was a lucky person in the regime. He was in his prime years and held a military rank equivalent of General. Not many would reach that age for the existing Generals were few and fought hard to stay at it till they reached retirement. He was in his late thirties but his experience in the battles was many, and victorious. He had fought the Romans twice in his career and survived to tell the tales. In the last war, he was carried back on a medi-platform, and suffered a year of physical therapy to correct his limbs. It was inflicted on his adversary then, who was also bed ridden for almost the same period.

“Caius Marcius, I shall ensure we would never meet for the fourth.”

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.1.7

Scene 1.1.7

Sinister of the Consuls

 “Was ever a man as proud as this Marcius?” Sicinius whispered out in a spiteful manner. He was a tall man but lanky in frame with his thin mustache that met up with his side burns but sadly the top piece was thinning due to inherited defaults. He was dressed in the dark blue frock with the vertical yellow stripes that sailed across his waist. He called it the fashion of strangulation by the Noble on the Commoner. His close associate and conspirator, Brutus was in the red shaded frock that displayed his emotions of the day.

“He has no equal.” Brutus replied.

“When we were chosen Consuls for the Commoners...” Sicinius ignored the man’s reply, and tried to raise his own limelight but Brutus was past listening.

“Behold his lips and eyes.” Brutus continued on.

“Nay,” Sicinius retorted back when he took it that Brutus meant Marcius and not themselves. “His taunts...”

“He will not spare even the Gods.” Brutus who was highly emotional invoked on the Godly personalities. “The present wars devour his soul. He has grown too proud to be so …valiant.”

“Such a nature, tickled with the victories, disdains the shadow which he treads on at noon. I do wonder his insolence can be commanded under Cominius.” Sicinius picked his words to tackle on the issue of insubordination in the military command.

“Neither Fame, at which he aims, in whom already he’s well graced cannot be held nor more attained than by a place below the first.” Brutus gave his view on the ego standing of the man. “If he miscarries, it shall be the General’s fault, but if he does perform; then the giddy censure will then cry out of Marcius if he had done the honor.”

“If things go well, opinion that sticks on, Marcius shall of his demerits rob Cominius of any merits. To Marcius shall be honors, though indeed in them he merits none.” Brutus lament on about Marcius. It was Sicinius who broke his thoughts to rejoin the other Consuls at the Senate. 

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.1.6

Scene 1.1.6

Messages of War

 “Where’s Caius Marcius?” The officer of the Elite Troopers pushed himself through the assembled. Such was his influence that he came alone and unarmed except for the battle fatigue worn on his frame. He held the rank of a Lieutenant; the highest a Commoner could envisage. He was from Colonel Caius Marcius Company and sought his commander then.

“Here!” Marcius called out. He eyed the officer and stood there. “What’ the matter?”

In Marcius mind was the anticipated announcement of the war with the Volsces. He had fought them twice and both times he had won, but the victory was hard earned. He had the scars to show for his valiant acts. The lieutenant saluted his commanding officer, and then relayed the message.

“Colonel, the order is that the Volsces are in arms. We are to retaliate immediately.”

“I am glad on it. We shall have the mean to battle now.” Marcius smiled. He then saw the arrival of the Consuls. The standoff there must have been told to the Senate, or they are here to antagonize him. He knew he was not favored by the Senate except for his exploits in war.

Among the Consuls were Cominius, Titus Lartius, Junius Brutus, and Sicinius Velutus.

Cominius was the tall one with the straight back from his military background. His reclining hairline displayed his age, but he projected himself well among the Consuls. H had lavished them with his heroic exploits; they are all alike in some stages but it held up his esteemed state on the Senate by leading the military in command.

Titus Lartius; another war hero, but he held himself well to be accorded the rank of their leader among the Consuls. He spoke well of Coriolanus’ efforts to preserved Rome like himself during his military years. His last effort caused him a limp that he walked with pride among the so-named heroes of war like a true earned glory. He was always in praise of the younger Colonel, but little was known of his intentions.

Junius Brutus, and Sicinius Velutus; the scorn of the Consuls for they were from among the Commoners to be in the Senate. They knew their status was a privilege and so be it they abused it to exploit the dissent on the Commoners and the Senate. They picked their foes by subjective topics, and the one named Caius Marcius was their latest subject. They feared him of his popularity among the Commoners for his battle exploits.

“Marcius, is it true that you Volsces are in arms?” One of the Consuls stepped forth to gain the spot light.

“Aye, they have a leader. Tullus Aufidius.” Marcius replied. “A noble warrior. One I envy and I was him.”

“You have fought together?” Cominius pushed his way forth to speak. His overbearing frame blocked the earlier Consul.

“Aye, we had stood across each other, face to face. He is a lion that I am proud to hunt.” Marcius declared of his enemy.

“Then, worthy Marcius. Attend upon Cominius to these wars.” The Consul who earlier spoke raised his voice beside Cominius. In those eyes was the contempt for the later to declare war.

“It’s your former promise.” Cominius looked to the young Colonel. He was playing with the words to command him.

“Sir, it is. I am constant.” Marcius looked to his friend, Titus Lartius. “You shall see me strike once more at Tullus’ face.”

The later smiled and rejoiced in those words. He tapped his left feet to show his limp.

“I’ll lean upon one crutch and fight with the other.” Titus replied and then to Cominius. “Lead you on.”

“Follow Cominius, we must follow you. Rightful leader for the cause.” Titus hailed the one who will lead them. At then, the Consul left out of the discussion appeared to the stage to uphold another issue.

“Hence to you homes; be gone.” The Consul called out to the assembled. His intention was to spur the mass up for the new issue but Marcius took the call to belittle their efforts.

“Nay let them follow. The Volsces have much grain; these rats shall garner from them.” The assembled had heard of the new threat and found theirs was no of any importance anymore. The survival of Rome had surpassed their hunger needs. They dispersed without a murmur to their homes leaving only their elected Consuls. The two had stood on the side watching the debacle and hoping for an opening to gnaw at the bone but there was none. 

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.1.5

Scene 1.1.5

Retorts of a Noble

 “Hang them!” Marcius voiced out in contempt.  “That said!”

“You sit by the fire and presume to know what the Senate done; the ones likely to rise, to survive, and who would decline, their factions and who gives out their vows to make their sides stronger. With such feelings not in your favor, you claimed we hoard the grains.” Marcius looked in contempt at the assembled. It was alike to mutiny in his ranks. 

“Lay aside the Senate, let me blast and buried them in the pits.”

“Nay!” Menenius stepped forth to halt the action. “These are all most thoroughly persuaded. For though abundant they lack discretion, yet they are passing cowards.”

“They are indeed.” Marcius cursed at them. “Who would have no appreciation than us? They claimed hunger, and stand quoted by them. These hungers broke stone walls, so that the dogs must eat. A petition granted; a strange one that broker by our generosity.”

“What was granted to them?” Menenius added on. The Senate House had found the woes of these Commoners were best addressed by their own kind. They then allowed the voting of Consuls; selected numbers from their own.

“Five,” Marcius held up his right hand. “Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms. Chosen by their choice. One’s Junius Brutus, one Sicinius Velutus, and … I know not of the others.”

Marcius knew the first two for they were the most vocal. He feared not them, but held them in contempt.

“The rabble should have first uprooted the city’” Marcius point to the protective walls over the city. He reference to their appointment as invading the Senate House. “It will in time. Win upon power and throw forth more their demands.”

“This is strange.” Menenius feigned confusion to drive the man to speak his mind. Yet he knew that would be true if the Commoner rule Senate.

“Go; get you home, you fragment.” Marcius called on them for the Commoners are not of one nationality but of several nationalities that grouped there in Rome. 

Coriolanus Act Scene 1.1.4

Scene 1.1.4

Caius Marcius

“Hail, Noble Marcius!” Menenius had seen the arrival of the other, and yet he timed his speech to temper the mood of the people. He knew well of Caius Marcius, the Hero of Rome. He stood tall at over six feet with the wide shoulders that he carried the pride of Rome. His face was clean shaven to his scalp, while the frame of his body was all muscles and in his struts, he showed confidence. He was the Noble man then with the ranks in the military; he was the true military man among the Noble. Caius fought for Rome as if it was his own family that he protected. He had never shrink from any battles, and fought alongside the others as equal in ferocity and dedication but he had one inherent weakness. He commands his officers and men alike as if he was the Noble and they his Commoner. He withheld no words from his vocal; harsh to the ears, but he exerts authority over their anger. They fought for him back to back for he was not one to stay behind the shelter giving command. Caius Marcius was one of the most decorated military officers, and he was due for the position of the Consul. He had foretold that if Rome was ever threatened, he would fight for Rome.

That day, he had joined Menenius on the walks on the streets of Rome but was diverted to look at some gifts for his mother and wife. They were dressed in the simple frock design with the plain yellow shades favored by the Noble on the hot summer day. Unlike the Commoner, they were dressed in the darker shades that favored less obvious signs of stains and could be worn over a long period before it’s changed for a fresh coat. Both Noble have grown accustomed to the foul scent of the Commoners that they felt no need for the air filter masks favored by the socialites.

On that dry summer day, despite the pleasant weather, it was an unusual scene on the streets with the hurrying of feet while peddlers market their products with haste for the words of the war with Volsces. Menenius had heard of the dissent among his voters and reckoned that a hero next to him would win over their confidence in him. He had then brought the so named hero to walk with him. In true it was a good move, but in fate it was to begin his downfall.

“What the matter, you dissentious rogues? You called on the itch of your opinion like scabs.” Marcius being himself held no words back with his opening lines when he saw the assembled Commoners moaning on some petty issues as usual. It was not the first he had seen, and would not be the last of it. He disliked such dissent more so when he and his men had done more to keep the peace for them. In the military, he would have these fools flogged on their bare back and then left to sun for a day.

“We have ever your good word.” The nurse saw the Noble and was excited that she had found a new adversary to focus on; one that beheld the quality of his birthright in his tone.

“He that will give good words to you will flatter beneath abhorring.” Marcius showed his contempt on the expression of his scarred face. “What would you have, you curs?”

The last word uttered stirred up some emotions and the old charmer stepped in to quell any violence.

“Peace,” Marcius looked to the nurse. “Or war? That one affrights you, the other makes you proud.”

“He that trusts you,” Marcius turned his look to the assembled. He sees not the elected Consuls from the Commoners. They should have been there to lead these fools yet those fools had seen better to quiver behind the walls. “Where he should find you lions, find you hares; where foxes and geeses: you are no surer, no. Then is the coal of fire upon ice, or hailstones in the sun. Your virtue is to make him….”

“Worthy,” Marcius glared back at the nurse. “Whose offence subdues him, and the curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness deserves your hate. Your affection is a sick man’s appetite who desires most that which would increase his evil.”

Marcius addressed the nurse as if she was his officer; held in contempt for him yet served him with him in dedication. He recognized not her for there were many nurses and doctors in his many stays with them.

“He that depends upon your favors swims with fins of lead and hews down oaks with rushes.” Marcius hissed those words to the nurse. “Hang you! Trust you! With every minute you change a mind, and call him noble that was now your hate.”

“You cry against the Noble Consul,” Marcius picked his reference well. “What you’re seeking of them?”

“For wheat at their rates for they claimed we have hoarded it in the stores.” Menenius rushed to lay his claim. He sensed the assembled having mixed views then. He was glad he brought in Marcius; his protégé as claimed by himself. A hero of the war would be a hero of the Senate House when well suited to the conditions set by him.

As stated, Menenius had a bleak day unforeseen by him.