Coriolanus Act 5.4.1

Scene 5.4.1

An anxious Rome

Menenius had returned earlier with news of despairs. Since then he had rejoined the Commoners with his drinking, while the Nobles ignored him from their homes. Such were the reality of life; once a failure deemed a recluse from their views.

“Bring me that jar, lady.” Menenius called out to the lady who ran the place. She was one of his favorite of late, with her servings to his needs including the peeking down her blouse. He missed his other days, when he was invited to the ladies home; widows or divorces one being the exception and offered to stay the night. Never on the couch unless he insisted but nevertheless comforts and warmth was there. Since his return, they were translated into gold payments in return from his own vault.

“Nay, not today. You had one too many already.” The lady actually cared about him. “Another drop and you would be slobbering over my floor.”

“Slobbering? The only thing I would be doing of such would on your bosom.” Menenius replied while he tasted the last drop of his mug. He reached for his bag of gold coins, when he sighted the arrival of one name Sicinius. The later sat across him and smiled. Menenius returned the smile, and spoke up.

“She must have been worth it.” Menenius told him while he slurps his tongue over the rim of the mug.

“Nay it was not a woman I was smiling on.” Sicinius had his own share of harlots and mistresses, but since the outcome of the new war, he had been doing his tasks as Consuls which he arranged the rationing and allocation of food to the Commoners. It was born out of necessity or there would be rioting.

“See you that sign of the Capital on the yonder cornerstone?” Menenius motioned to Sicinius to look at the jar with the wording Capital Assets on the edge of the long bar. It contained his needed relief for the evening.

“Why, what of that?” Sicinius did look over and then replied. “We are more concerned on Coriolanus now your jar.”

“If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother may prevail over him. But I will say there is none; our throats are sentenced, and stay upon execution. Now please pass me the jar.”

“Is it possible that so short a time can alter the conditions of a man?” Sicinius looked to Menenius, and the lady owner nodded. She motioned to the older man as a good example. Menenius saw the cynical gesture and moved up his defense.

“There is a differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub.” Menenius sobered up as if he was in the Senate House. “This Marcius is grown from a man to ….dragon. He has wings; he’s more than a creeping thing.”

“Aye, he loved his mother dearly.” Sicinius added on.

“So did he me; I was his mentor.” Menenius clasped his hands to his heart. “He remembers not more of her than his eight year old pony. The tartness of his face had hardened over the years, when he walks, he moves like a tank, and the ground crushed beneath his tracks. He sits in his state like Alexander the Great. What he bids be done is finished with his bidding. He wants nothing of a god, but eternity and a heaven to throne in.”

“Mercy, you report him well.” Sicinius echoed the support. “The Gods will be good to us.”

Menenius laughed at the prayer. He then stumbled over from his seat to retrieve the jar.

“No, in such case the Gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respected them not; and he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.” Menenius completed his sarcasm with a long pull at the jar contents. “Damn good wine. More if I may asked, but would you accept the credit in the neither life?”