SOURCE: Thomas, Vivian. “Sounds, Words, Gestures and Deeds in Coriolanus.” In Shakespeare's Roman Worlds, pp. 154-219. London: Routledge, 1989.

[In the following excerpt, Thomas contrasts Shakespeare's dramatic presentation of Coriolanus with Plutarch's historical assessment of the figure, comparing the two authors' divergent handling of character, story, and theme.]

                                                                                                              from face to foot
He was a thing of blood, whose every motion
Was tim'd with dying cries …

(II.ii.108-10)

                                                                                                                                                      before him he
Carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie,
Which, being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.

(II.i.157-60)

I have seen the dumb men throng to see him, and
The blind to hear him speak …
                                                                                the nobles bended
As to Jove's statue, and the commons made
A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts …

(II.i.260-5)

Plutarch begins his account of the life of Caius Martius Coriolanus by commenting on his noble origins and drawing attention to a salient fact: ‘being left an orphan’ he was brought up by his mother. The historian considers this to have been a great misfortune:

For this Martius naturall wit and great harte dyd marvelously sturre up his corage, to doe and attempt noble actes. But on the other side for lacke of education, he was so chollericke and impacient, that he would yeld to no living creature: which made him churlishe, uncivill, and altogether unfit for any mans conversation. Yet men marveling much at his constancy, that he was never overcome with pleasure, nor money, and howe he would endure easely all manner of paynes and travailles: thereupon they well liked and commended his stowtnes and temperancie. But for all that, they could not be acquainted with him, as one cittizen useth to be with another in the cittie. His behaviour was so unpleasaunt to them, by reason of a certaine insolent and sterne manner he had, which bicause it was to lordly, was disliked.¹

Unlike Shakespeare's character, this man lacks the ability to establish comfortable relationships with his peers: socially, he is something of a misfit. The rough side of Shakespeare's character emerges only in his relationship with the plebeians: his assertiveness does not arise from a sense of personal superiority but from his deeply ingrained belief in the superiority of his class. He has absorbed the patrician contempt for the plebeians without any accompanying guile or hypocrisy.

Although there is a wide divergence between Shakespeare and Plutarch in this crucial area, they both emphasize Coriolanus' martial qualities and the role of physical courage in the society. Shakespeare's Cominius says:

                                                                                It is held
That valour is the chiefest virtue and
Most dignifies the haver …

(II.ii.83-5)

Plutarch specifies the principle and the hero's dedication to physical prowess:

Now in those dayes, valliantnes was honoured in Rome above all other vertues: which they called virtus, by the name of vertue selfe, as including in that generall name, all other speciall vertues besides. So that virtus in the Latin, was asmuche as valliantnes. But Martius being more inclined to the warres, then any other gentleman of his time: beganne from his Childehood to geve him self to handle weapons, and daylie dyd exercise him selfe therein. And outward he esteemed armour to no purpose, unles one were naturally armed within. Moreover he dyd so exercise his bodie to hardnes, and all kynde of activitie, that he was very swift in ronning, strong in wrestling, and mightie in griping, so that no man could ever cast him.²

In his very first battle, Plutarch records, Martius saved a fallen Roman soldier by standing astride him and killing his enemy. This action, undertaken before the eyes of the Roman Dictator, led to Martius being awarded the garland of oaken boughs. However, there is no mention of Martius striking the Tarquin on the knee as in Shakespeare. In recounting the subsequent battles in which Martius fought, and won honours on every occasion, Plutarch insists that Martius differed from all other soldiers in one crucial respect:

the only thing that made him to love honour, was the joye he sawe his mother dyd take of him. For he thought nothing made him so happie and honorable, as that his mother might heare every bodie praise and commend him, that she might allwayes see him returne with a crowne upon his head, and that she might still embrace him with teares ronning downe her cheekes for joye.

This desire to please his mother was not confined to military exploits, but encompassed all aspects of his life:

But Martius thinking all due to his mother, that had bene also due to his father if he had lived: dyd not only content him selfe to rejoyce and honour her, but at her desire tooke a wife also, by whom he had two children, and yet never left his mothers house.³

The two children are reduced to one by the dramatist, but the enormous influence of Martius' mother is powerfully felt in the play, and the view is ventilated that the courageous deeds are undertaken to please her rather than out of any desire to serve his country (I.i.37-8).

The first major social conflict recounted by Plutarch—something which is merely alluded to by Shakespeare—grew out of the severe oppression of the commonality by the rich, who exploited them by means of high interest rates backed up by harsh penalties. Before their successful battle against the Sabines, the Senate had promised the common soldiers protection from usury and more respectful treatment. Once victory was secured the Senate reneged on their promises thereby provoking open rebellion. This in turn led to fresh assaults on Rome and the emergence of a political crisis in which opinions were divided between adopting a conciliatory policy and using all the force available to beat the plebeians into submission. Coriolanus favoured the latter approach, believing that concessions led to disobedience and anarchy. The Senate failed to reach a decision after days of deliberation, so the plebeians responded not with violence but by means of an orderly withdrawal from the city. They encamped on a nearby hill. Their sense of grievance, and awareness of being an exploited class, is clearly articulated by Plutarch:

they sayed, to dwell at Rome was nothing els but to be slaine, or hurte with continuall warres, and fighting for defence of the riche mens goodes.⁴

Here is a society in which class antagonism has reached the point where it threatens total breakdown. The Senators responded to the crisis by sending Menenius as emissary. He succeeded partly as a consequence of his persuasiveness, employing the fable of the belly, and partly because of the willingness of the Senate to make important constitutional concessions:

These persuasions pacified the people, conditionally, that the Senate would graunte there should be yerely chosen five magistrates, which they now call Tribuni Plebis, whose office should be to defend the poore people from violence and oppression. So Junius Brutus, and Sicinius Vellutus, were the first Tribunes of the people that were chosen, who had only bene the causers and procurers of this sedition. Hereupon the cittie being growen againe to good quiet and unitie, the people immediatly went to the warres, shewing that they had a good will to doe better then ever they dyd, and to be very willing to obey the magistrates in that they would commaund, concerning the warres.⁵

It is worth noting at this point that in Livy's account (translated by Philemon Holland in 1600 and believed to have been known by Shakespeare) Menenius owes his credit with the plebeians to being one of them by birth. He is described by Livy as ‘a faire spoken and eloquent man, gratious withall and wellbeloved among the commons, for that he was from them descended’.⁶ He later goes on to add that Menenius was

a man all his life time before beloved indifferently of the Senatours and the Commons: but after the insurrection, much more deere unto the Commons than before. This truchman, this mediator for civile attonement, this Embassadour and messenger from the Senatours to the commons, this reconciler and reducer of the commons home againe into the cittie, had not at his death sufficient to defray the charges of his funerals: the commons therefore made a purse and a contribution of a Sextant by the poll, and were at the cost to interre and burie him worshipfully.⁷

Here, Shakespeare's ‘shaping’ of character and structure can be seen very clearly. His Menenius is certainly not a man of plebeian origins: he is valuable in oiling the political wheels, and possesses a diction and style which persuades the common people that he is sympathetic towards them, but he has no more genuine regard for them than Coriolanus. He is an authentic patrician who enjoys the good life:

I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine, with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't … one that converses more with the buttock of the night than with the forehead of the morning.

(II.i.46-52)

It is hard to imagine this Menenius dying penniless.

Shakespeare, of course, transfers the fable of the belly and Menenius' key role to the political crisis which occurred three years after the retreat to the Sacred Mount. The Menenius of history was already dead by then. Here is an example of Shakespeare drawing on a character, detecting his vital role in society and creating for him a language and style which enable him to carry out this necessary function. Shakespeare's Menenius is essentially hypocritical—but his kind of hypocrisy is needed to prevent social tensions becoming explosive, something which Coriolanus never understands.

In his account of the constitutional change, Plutarch draws attention to the manipulative qualities of the tribunes Brutus and Sicinius (a feature developed by Shakespeare): they only had ‘bene the causers and procurers of this sedition’.⁸ Livy provides no hint that those chosen as tribunes played any such role. On the contrary, he suggests that Sicinius, rather than resorting to violence, formulated the policy of what would now be referred to as passive resistance. The immediate response of Martius was to stir the patricians into demonstrating their superiority over the plebeians in terms of fighting prowess. The necessity for this appeal suggests that for those at the top, wealth had become a greater indicator or guarantee of status than martial prowess.

There is also a significant discrepancy between Plutarch and Livy in describing the capture of Corioles by Martius. Shakespeare adheres closely to Plutarch's description of the initial retreat of the Romans and their subsequent assault on the city:

he dyd encorage his fellowes with wordes and dedes [my emphases], crying out to them, that fortune had opened the gates of the cittie, more for the followers, then the flyers. But all this notwithstanding, fewe had the hartes to followe him. Howbeit Martius being in the throng emong the enemies, thrust him selfe into the gates of the cittie … But he looking about him, and seeing he was entred the cittie with very fewe men to helpe him, and perceyving he was environned by his enemies that gathered round about to set apon him: dyd things then as it is written, wonderfull and incredible, aswell for the force of his hande, as also for the agillitie of his bodie, and with a wonderfull corage and valliantnes, he made a lane through the middest of them, and overthrewe also those he layed at … By this meanes, Lartius that was gotten out, had some leysure to bring the Romaines with more safety into the cittie. The cittie being taken in this sorte, the most parte of the souldiers beganne incontinently to spoyle, to carie awaye, and to looke up the bootie they had wonne. But Martius was marvelous angry with them, and cried out on them, that it was no time now to looke after spoyle, and to ronne straggling here and there to enriche them selves, whilest the other Consul and their fellowe cittizens peradventure were fighting with their enemies … Wherefore taking those that willingly offered them selves to followe him, he went out of the cittie, and tooke his waye towards that parte, where he understoode the rest of the armie was …⁹

In Livy's account Martius makes use of brands of fire to set some buildings alight once he is inside the gates, but Shakespeare ignores this realistic detail and instead provides a scene in which Martius enters the city alone. Plutarch's magnificent warrior (who enters the city with a few men) becomes in the play superhuman—and isolated.

One aspect of the narrative account which becomes a vital element in the play is the focus on ‘words and deeds’. Plutarch recounts how Martius, having taken Corioles, leads a force against the most fierce of the enemy bands (the Antiates). Once more he fights like a man possessed, refusing to retire even when fainting with exhaustion, until the military triumph is complete. Thus the dramatist differs from the historian only in one crucial respect: his Martius enters the city of Corioles alone. For the rest he does no more than dramatize Plutarch's narrative. Though Shakespeare invents the fight between Martius and Aufidius, Plutarch recounts how Cominius commended Martius ‘beyond the moone’ before offering him a tenth of all the spoils. The dramatist once more follows the historian closely in that Martius rejects the reward, accepting only ‘a goodly horse with a capparison, and all furniture to him’ and requesting the release of a former host:

and as for his other offer, which was rather a mercenary reward, then an honorable recompence, he would none of it, but was contented to have his equall parte with other souldiers. Only, this grace (sayed he) I crave, and beseeche you to graunt me. Among the Volsces there is an olde friende and hoste of mine, an honest wealthie man and now a prisoner, who living before in great wealth in his owne countrie, liveth now a poore prisoner in the handes of his enemies: and yet notwithstanding all this his miserie and misfortune, it would doe me great pleasure if I could save him from this one daunger: to keepe him from being solde as a slave. The souldiers hearing Martius wordes, made a marvelous great showte among them: and they were moe that wondred at his great contentation and abstinence, when they sawe so litle covetousnes in him, then they were that highely praised and extolled his valliantnes.¹⁰

Shakespeare picks up the word ‘mercenary’ from this account but makes one or two small but significant changes. The prisoner on whose behalf Martius appeals is a poor man in the play, and suffering from the exhaustion of battle Martius forgets his name. Cominius, recognizing that Martius is adamant in his refusal of special rewards, then announces that henceforth he shall be called Coriolanus.

It is at this point in Plutarch's narrative that the problem of the dearth of corn arises (as a consequence of the refusal of the plebeians to work the land the previous year). Shakespeare has made effective dramatic use of this material by placing it at the beginning of the play; the political crisis gathers greater immediacy and resonance by being about food and starving people rather than interest rates. Plutarch makes clear his antagonism towards the common people and applauds the Senators for their wisdom in dispatching one group to Velitres to repopulate a city recently ravaged by plague (selecting, incidentally, those considered most subversive or vociferous in pressing the claims of the plebeians) and sending another group to fight the Volsces ‘hoping by means of forreine warre, to pacifie their sedition at home’.¹¹ Not surprisingly Sicinius and Brutus attack the policy of colonization on the grounds that many will be sent to their deaths. Despite the soundness of this protest Plutarch refers to them as ‘two seditious Tribunes’.¹² At this point Martius intervenes:

Martius then, who was now growen to great credit, and a stowte man besides, and of great reputation with the noblest men of Rome, rose up, and openly spake against these flattering Tribunes. And for the replenishing of the cittie of Velitres, he dyd compell those that were chosen, to goe thither, and to departe the cittie, apon great penalties to him that should disobey: but to the warres, the people by no meanes would be brought or constrained. So Martius taking his friendes and followers with him, and such as he could by fayer wordes intreate to goe with him, dyd ronne certen forreyes into the dominion of the Antiates, where he met with great plenty of corne, and had a marvelous great spoyle, aswell of cattell, as of men he had taken prisoners, whom he brought awaye with him, and reserved nothing for him selfe. Afterwardes having brought backe againe all his men that went out with him, safe and sounde to Rome, and every man riche and loden with spoyle: then the hometarriers and housedoves that kept Rome still, beganne to repent them that it was not their happe to goe with him, and so envied both them that had sped so well in this jorney, and also of malice to Martius, they spited to see his credit and estimation increase still more and more, bicause they accompted him to be a great hinderer of the people.¹³

This whole incident receives only brief and retrospective mention in the play. Into this ‘space’ Shakespeare inserts the marvellous scene of Martius' triumphant return to Rome, followed by his reluctant agreement, in response to his mother's pleading, to stand for Consul. Describing Martius' stand for office, Plutarch makes the telling point that ‘the common people favored his sute, thinking it would be a shame to them to denie, and refuse, the chiefest noble man of bloude, and most worthie persone of Rome, and specially him that had done so great service and good to the common wealth’.¹⁴ Shakespeare vivifies this point in a dialogue between two common men who realize that refusal would constitute ingratitude.

Then comes a major difference between the dramatist and the narrator. Plutarch explains,

For the custome of Rome was at that time, that suche as dyd sue for any office, should for certen dayes before be in the market place, only with a poore gowne on their backes, and without any coate underneath, to praye the cittizens to remember them at the daye of election: which was thus devised, either to move the people the more, by requesting them in suche meane apparell, or els bicause they might shewe them their woundes they had gotten in the warres in the service of the common wealth, as manifest markes and testimonie of their valliantnes.¹⁵

Shakespeare's character finds this unbearable. Unable to bring himself to show his wounds, he treats the plebeians with contempt. Plutarch's hero has no such qualms and initially gains popular support without difficulty—only to lose it just as quickly:

Now Martius following this custome, shewed many woundes and cuttes apon his bodie, which he had receyved in seventeene yeres service at the warres, and in many sundrie battells, being ever the formest man that dyd set out feete to fight. So that there was not a man emong the people, but was ashamed of him selfe, to refuse so valliant a man: and one of them sayed to another, We must needes chuse him Consul, there is no remedie. But when the daye of election was come, and that Martius came to the market place with great pompe, accompanied with all the Senate, and the whole Nobilitie of the cittie about him, who sought to make him Consul, with the greatest instance and intreatie they could, or ever attempted for any man or matter: then the love and good will of the common people, turned straight to an hate and envie toward him, fearing to put this office of soveraine authoritie into his handes, being a man somewhat partiall toward the nobilitie, and of great credit and authoritie amongest the Patricians, and as one they might doubt would take away alltogether the libertie from the people. Whereupon for these considerations, they refused Martius in the ende, and made two others that were suters, Consuls.¹⁶

In the play it takes the wiles of the tribunes to persuade the plebeians to change their minds. Thus, Shakespeare's hero is more unyielding and his plebeians more generous than their counterparts in the narrative. Plutarch, although contemptuous of the tribunes, allocates them no role in stirring up antagonism against Martius at this point. Shakespeare makes them a crucial element. Although Martius is outraged by the behaviour of the plebeians in Plutarch, he is spurred on by the young noblemen who looked upon him as ‘their captaine and leader to the warres, that taught them all marshall discipline, and stirred up in them a noble emulation of honour and valliantnes’.¹⁷ Shakespeare, emphasizing his isolation throughout the play, gives him no entourage.

There is no immediate upheaval in Plutarch's account. Rather, another element enters the situation when a great abundance of corn is brought to Rome. The common people held that the corn, received as a gift by Rome, should be distributed freely, while the rest should be sold at a low price. The majority of the Senate also inclined towards this viewpoint until Martius made a powerful speech, opposing such lenity, which received a great deal of support, especially among the younger Senators. Plutarch recounts Martius' long vehement speech. One fascinating example of Shakespeare adopting and adapting a phrase from North occurs when Martius warned the nobility that ‘they nourrished against them selves, the naughty seede and cockle, of insolencie and sedition’.¹⁸ In the play, Martius talks of nourishing the

                                        cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd and scatter'd …

(III.i.69-70)

This outburst constituted a two-fold attack on the plebeians, who were enraged when they received the reports of Martius' speech. The antagonism directed against the Senate was diverted towards Martius by the tribunes, who sent their officers to arrest him. The patricians physically protected Martius from arrest by driving back the tribunes and their officers, the aediles. However, when they found the city in uproar on the following morning the consuls sought to appease their anger with soothing words and the promise of cheap corn. The tempest abated, but the tribunes insisted that Martius stand trial. Plutarch enumerates the charges brought against him (that he sought to deprive the people of their political rights and effectively incited civil war), and the motive of his accusers, namely, to neutralize him, or better still to ensure that he would never gain popular support. At this point in the play Martius' mother and Menenius appeal to him to adopt a conciliatory tone. Martius realizes that he is unable to do so but promises his best endeavours. He only bursts forth into violent abuse after the tribunes have, with deft calculation, denounced him as a traitor. Such calculation is not required in Plutarch's account:

So Martius came, and presented him selfe, to aunswer their accusations against him, and the people held their peace, and gave attentive eare, to heare what he would saye. But where they thought to have heard very humble and lowly wordes come from him, he beganne not only to use his wonted boldnes of speaking (which of it selfe was very rough and unpleasaunt, and dyd more aggravate his accusation, then purge his innocencie) but also gave him selfe in his wordes to thunder, and looke therewithall so grimly, as though he made no reckoning of the matter. This stirred coales emong the people, who were in wondefull furie at it, and their hate and malice grewe so toward him, that they could holde no lenger, beare, nor indure his bravery and careles boldnes. Whereupon Sicinius, the cruellest and stowtest of the Tribunes, after he had whispered a litle with his companions, dyd openly pronounce in the face of all the people, Martius as condemned by the Tribunes to dye. Then presently he commaunded the Aediles to apprehend him, and carie him straight to the rocke Tarpeian, and to cast him hedlong downe the same. When the Aediles came to laye handes upon Martius to doe that they were commaunded, divers of the people them selves thought it to cruell, and violent a dede. The noble men also being muche troubled to see such force and rigour used, beganne to crie alowde, Helpe Martius … the tumulte and hurly burley was so great, untill suche time as the Tribunes owne friendes and kinsemen weying with them selves the impossiblenes to convey Martius to execution, without great slaughter and murder of the nobilitie: dyd persuade and advise not to proceede in so violent and extraordinary a sorte, as to put such a man to death, without lawfull processe in lawe, but that they should referre the sentence of his death, to the free voyce of the people.¹⁹

What is abundantly clear from this account is that politically Rome is on a knife-edge. In the new constitutional situation Martius is unable to get away with his customary abuse of the people. He is living in the past and the nobles have to choose between saving him and risking civil war. At this point even Martius is aware of the precariousness of the situation and of the fierce contention that it has provoked in the Senate. Consequently, to alleviate the political tensions he makes a conciliatory gesture:

Martius seeing the Senate in great doubt how to resolve, partely for the love and good will the nobilitie dyd beare him, and partely for the feare they stoode in of the people: asked alowde of the Tribunes, what matter they would burden him with? The Tribunes aunswered him, that they would shewe howe he dyd aspire to be King, and would prove that all his actions tended to usurpe tyrannicall power over Rome. Martius with that, rising up on his feete, sayed: that thereupon he dyd willingly offer him self to the people, to be tried apon that accusation. And that if it were proved by him, he had so muche as once thought of any suche matter, that he would then refuse no kinde of punishment they would offer him: conditionally (quoth he) that you charge me with nothing els besides, and that ye doe not also abuse the Senate. They promised they would not. Under these conditions the judgement was agreed upon, and the people assembled.²⁰

Despite adopting a voting procedure which placed Martius at a distinct disadvantage, the tribunes failed to make their case. Shakespeare omits any reference to this political nicety but absorbs fully the deviousness which the tribunes evince at this point in the narrative:

And then when the Tribunes sawe they could not prove he went about to make him self King: they beganne to broache a freshe the former wordes that Martius had spoken in the Senate, in hindering the distribution of the corne at meane price unto the common people, and persuading also to take the office of Tribuneshippe from them. And for the third, they charged him a newe, that he had not made the common distribution of the spoyle he had gotten in the invading the territories of the Antiates: but had of his owne authoritie devided it among them, who were with him in that jorney. But this matter was most straunge of all to Martius, looking least to have bene burdened with that, as with any matter of offence. Whereupon being burdened on the sodaine, and having no ready excuse to make even at that instant: he beganne to fall a praising of the souldiers that had served with him in that journey. But those that were not with him, being the greater number, cried out so lowde, and made suche a noyse, that he could not be heard.²¹

Shakespeare's Martius whips the crowd into a fury by his denunciation of them (a response triggered by the tribunes' calculated accusation of ‘traitor’); here, he is simply shouted down as he attempts to make his case. Plutarch then describes his reaction to the sentence of banishment:

he only of all other gentlemen that were angrie at his fortune, dyd outwardly shewe no manner of passion, nor care at all of him selfe. Not that he dyd paciently beare and temper his good happe, in respect of any reason he had, or by his quiet condition: but bicause he was so caried awaye with the vehemencie of anger, and desire of revenge, that he had no sence nor feeling of the hard state he was in …²²

This description of Martius is much more akin to Shakespeare's portrayal of him when he becomes leader of the Volsces:

He is their god. He leads them like a thing
Made by some other deity than nature,
That shapes man better …

(IV.vi.91-3)

The desire for revenge is then white hot; he is implacable, seemingly inhuman. As Cominius says,

                                                                                ‘Coriolanus’
He would not answer to; forbad all names:
He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
Till he had forg'd himself a name o'th'fire
Of burning Rome.

(V.i.11-15)

Shakespeare's clear sense of character and purpose is vividly apparent in the contrast between his treatment of Martius' departure from the city and Plutarch's. The latter provides the following description:

he went immediatly to the gate of the cittie, accompanied with a great number of Patricians that brought him thither, from whence he went on his waye with three or foure of his friendes only, taking nothing with him, nor requesting any thing of any man. So he remained a fewe dayes in the countrie at his houses, turmoyled with sundry sortes and kynde of thoughtes, suche as the fyer of his choller dyd sturre up. In the ende, seeing he could resolve no waye, to take a profitable or honorable course, but only was pricked forward still to be revenged of the Romaines: he thought to raise up some great warres against them, by their neerest neighbours.²³

Shakespeare's Martius is accompanied to the gates by his family and a few friends. Cominius makes a half-hearted offer to accompany him for a month but Martius declines and, in sharp contrast to Plutarch's character, goes alone. Shakespeare's Martius endures the baiting of the plebeians, being, as he later describes it, ‘Whoop'd out of Rome’ (IV.v.79). He has no ‘great number of Patricians’ with him: guilt or embarrassment keeps them away. Finally, Shakespeare's hero may be bitter, but he also possesses a misplaced confidence: ‘I shall be lov'd when I am lack'd’ (IV.i.15). He fails to understand that he is totally unnecessary in time of peace. Indeed, he does not even have a productive political role to play (far less an economic one). His total inability to comprehend the nature of social control, change and adjustment, the political dynamics of society, ensures that he is a liability. Coriolanus never reveals the slightest indication of knowing what an economy is. Interestingly, just before he makes his assertion that he will soon be missed, Volumnia utters a curse which reminds the audience of the existence of economic life:

Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,
And occupations perish!

(IV.i.13-14)

As he departs, Martius gives his wife and mother an assurance which Shakespeare infuses with dramatic irony:

While I remain above the ground you shall
Hear from me still, and never of me aught
But what is like me formerly.

(IV.i.51-3)

What he says is the literal truth: he has only two aspects: a loved son, husband and friend; and a terrifyingly potent war machine to be feared. This richness, intensity and range of suggestion does not arise from the contrast between drama and narrative: it is the result of Shakespeare animating and vitalizing a fascinating narrative account with his insight and vision. A key psychological difference is that Plutarch's Martius determines immediately to effect revenge on Rome. Shakespeare's hero embarks on such a policy only when he feels utterly desolate—when he understands that a man cannot exist outside society.

Only at this point in the narrative does Plutarch first mention Aufidius, though the nature of this opening comment on the great warrior is such that it is little wonder that Shakespeare presents him very early in the play:

Now in the cittie of Antium, there was one called Tullus Aufidius, who for his riches, as also for his nobilitie and valliantnes, was honoured emong the Volsces as a King. Martius knewe very well, that Tullus dyd more malice and envie him, then he dyd all the Romaines besides: Bicause that many times in battells where they met, they were ever at the encounter one against another, like lustie coragious youthes, striving in all emulation of honour, and had encountered many times together. In so muche, as besides the common quarrell betweene them, there was bred a marvelous private hate one against another.²⁴

The historian provides a vivid account of the disguised Martius making his way to Aufidius' house, entering and taking a place at the ‘chimney harthe’, before making a simple but significant point:

They of the house spying him, wondered what he should be, and yet they durst not byd him rise. For ill favoredly muffled and disguised as he was, yet there appeared a certaine majestie in his countenance, and in his silence …²⁵

In contrast, Shakespeare creates a quasi-comic scene in which the servants are not impressed by the ragged, uninvited guest and even threaten him. It is only after his true identity has been revealed that they claim to have noticed something special about him. Shakespeare's device also creates the opportunity for revealing the inevitability of conflict between the two great warriors: servants make invidious comparisons which will be made later by the more formidable soldiers.

Among the complaints that Martius enumerates to Aufidius is that he has been stripped of everything but his name by the ‘envie and crueltie of the people’ whose malice has been allowed ‘by the sufferance of the dastardly nobilitie and magistrates’ who have ‘forsaken’ him.²⁶ Shakespeare uses the term ‘dastard nobles’ (IV.v.76) and gives a burning intensity to this sense of betrayal by Martius' own class—a feeling powerfully generated by North's ‘forsaken’. Having accepted Martius' promise to fight ‘with better good will for all you, then ever I dyd when I was against you’ they feast together but do not until ‘a fewe days after’²⁷ discuss the means of attacking Rome. And at this point Shakespeare makes a significant departure from Plutarch. The former presents a picture of peace and concord in Rome with even Menenius being defensive in his support of Martius—‘All's well, and might have been much better if / He could have temporiz'd’ (IV.vi.16-17). Plutarch portrays an entirely different situation:

the cittie of Rome was in marvelous uprore, and discord, the nobilitie against the communaltie, and chiefly for Martius condemnation and banishment. Moreover the priestes, the Soothesayers, and private men also, came and declared to the Senate certaine sightes and wonders in the ayer, which they had seene.²⁸

The point of contrast is startling and significant. Shakespeare presents a Rome which is better off without Martius—unless they find themselves in a war. He also changes the perception of the situation among the Volsces. In Plutarch they are reluctant to fight against Rome without good reason:

Now Tullus and Martius had secret conference with the greatest personages of the cittie of Antium, declaring unto them, that now they had good time offered them to make warre with the Romaines, while they were in dissention one with another. They aunswered them, they were ashamed to breake the league, considering that they were sworne to keepe peace for two yeres. Howbeit shortely after, the Romaines gave them great occasion to make warre with them. For on a holy daye common playes being kept in Rome, apon some suspition, or false reporte, they made proclamation by sound of trumpet, that all the Volsces should avoyde out of Rome before sunne set. Some thincke this was a crafte and deceipt of Martius, who sent one to Rome to the Consuls, to accuse the Volsces falsely, advertising them howe they had made a conspiracie to set apon them, whilest they were busie in seeing these games, and also to set their cittie a fyre. This open proclamation made all the Volsces more offended with the Romaines then ever they were before …²⁹

Clearly, this presentation of Martius' guile runs totally counter to Shakespeare's character. Moreover, the dramatist secures far greater force and economy by eliminating the debates and goings on in Antium. Once Aufidius has embraced Coriolanus, the next time we encounter the hero he is in the field terrifying the Romans. There are other important changes made by Shakespeare at this point. First, the joint commanders go together to attack Roman territory, whereas in Plutarch, Aufidius remains at home to take charge of the defences. Second, Plutarch describes another wile of Martius that Shakespeare omits:

Howbeit the gayne of the spoyle and the hurte they dyd to the Romaines in this invasion, was the least parte of his intent. For his chiefest purpose was, to increase still the malice and dissention betweene the nobilitie, and the communaltie: and to drawe that on, he was very carefull to keepe the noble mens landes and goods safe from harme and burning, but spoyled all the whole countrie besides, and would suffer no man to take or hurte any thing of the noble mens. This made greater sturre and broyle betweene the nobilitie and people then was before.³⁰

Meanwhile, the Volsces grew in confidence as Martius returned triumphant from his first assault on Roman territory—losing not one man in the fighting. In his second assault (the two invasions are conflated by Shakespeare to a single campaign) Martius, for the most part, exercises restraint and mercy, but also proves capable of great savagery. He is so successful that there is a scramble to join him:

Afterwards, he tooke the cittie of Boles by assault … where he had a marvelous great spoyle, and put every man to the sword that was able to carie weapon. The other Volsces that were appointed to remaine in garrison for defence of their countrie, hearing this good newes would tary no lenger at home, but armed them selves, and ranne to Martius campe, saying they dyd acknowledge no other captaine but him.³¹

Here are the seeds of discord which Shakespeare introduces only when Martius is camped outside the gates of Rome. Shakespeare's Aufidius has been with Martius all along but is unofficially relegated to the position of second-in-command.

The picture inside the Rome of the play is one of dissension. The patricians denounce the plebeians while the latter attempt to encourage embassies and endeavour to deny any responsibility for the situation. This is very different from Plutarch's account of the contrasting attitudes of the two social groups when Coriolanus is besieging the sacred town of Lavinium:

Then fell there out a marvelous sodain chaunge of minde amonge the people, and farre more straunge and contrarie in the nobilitie. For the people thought good to repeale the condemnation and exile of Martius. The Senate assembled upon it, would in no case yeld to that.³²

Shakespeare omits this ironical situation of the plebeians pleading on behalf of Martius for amnesty while the Senators refuse! However, the situation changes when Martius, receiving news of the Senate's resolution, sets off in a rage to besiege Rome. When they see his camp five miles from Rome, ‘they all agreed together to send ambassadours unto him, to let him understand howe his countrymen dyd call him home againe, and restored him to all his goodes, and besought him to deliver them from this warre’.³³

The first embassy consisted of Martius' friends, who were soon shocked to encounter him seated in his ‘chayer of state, with a marvelous and an unspeakable majestie’.³⁴ Although they responded immediately to the atmosphere and humbled themselves, Martius was unyielding:

When they had done their message: for the injurie they had done him, he aunswered them very hottely, and in great choller. But as generall of the Volsces, he willed them to restore unto the Volsces, all their landes and citties they had taken from them in former warres: and moreover, that they should geve them the like honour and freedome of Rome, as they had before geven to the Latines. For otherwise they had no other meane to ende this warre, if they dyd not graunte these honest and just conditions of peace. Thereupon he gave them thirtie dayes respit to make him aunswer. So the ambassadours returned straight to Rome, and Martius forthwith departed with his armie out of the territories of the Romaines. This was the first matter wherewith the Volsces (that most envied Martius glorie and authoritie) dyd charge Martius with. Among those, Tullus was chief: who though he had receyved no private injurie or displeasure of Martius, yet the common faulte and imperfection of mans nature wrought in him, and it grieved him to see his owne reputation bleamished, through Martius great fame and honour, and so him selfe to be lesse esteemed of the Volsces, then he was before.³⁵

Evidently, although Martius' resolution was frightening to his former friends, it failed to satisfy the Volsces. There are a number of interesting points in this passage which must have fired Shakespeare's imagination. A small verbal point is the word ‘injurie’ in the first line of the quotation, which Shakespeare draws into his phrase ‘his injury / The gaoler to his pity’ (V.i.64-5). More important is the antagonism felt by Aufidius because he is being overshadowed. Plutarch is explicit in insisting that Aufidius ‘receyved no private injurie or displeasure of Martius’. In Shakespeare he complains of having been treated as a subordinate. Does this reflect the truth, or is the dramatist giving an example of a rationalization by Aufidius designed to provide some justification (to his associates and himself) for his plans to revenge himself on Martius? The latter appears to be the more plausible explanation.

While Rome itself enjoyed a respite of thirty days Martius went on the rampage, capturing seven Roman cities. When the time expired the Romans sent a second embassy, claiming that they would be reasonable provided the Volsces withdrew. Martius' response was to reiterate his (very reasonable) conditions. He gave them a further three days for deliberation. Despite Martius' injunction to the contrary they sent a third embassy to him, consisting this time of praetors, augurers and soothsayers. They were unceremoniously bundled out of the camp.

The fourth embassy arose as a consequence of the divine inspiration of Valeria, ‘Publicolaes owne sister’,³⁶ a woman renowned for her modesty and virtue (‘chaste as the icicle’ (V.iii.65)). She appealed to Martius' wife and mother who immediately consented to join her and other ladies as ambassadors of Rome. (There is no equivalent in the narrative of the earlier scene in the play of the three women together (I.iii).) Plutarch provides a vivid picture of their entry to the Volsces camp and Martius' response:

they went in troupe together unto the Volsces campe: 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 comming 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 downe 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 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.³⁷

Here is a description of the emotional movement which Shakespeare captures and elaborates. As Volumnia develops her appeal she gives expression to the anguish of her situation:

we can not (alas) together pray, both for victorie, for our countrie, and for safety 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 harde 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 their native contrie.

Shakespeare incorporates that last phrase as he does the next resonant expression that is employed by Volumnia:

thou shalt no soner marche forward to assault thy countrie, but thy foote shall treade upon thy mothers wombe [my italics], that brought thee first into this world.

Volumnia goes on to admit that her son seems to be caught between a choice of betraying the Volsces or destroying his ‘naturall countrie’, but insists that there is a middle way which offers mutual benefit of reconciliation. Having placed this ‘opportunity’ before him she then makes a threat which is followed closely in the play:

But if it faile, and fall out contrarie: thy selfe alone deservedly shall carie the shamefull 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 world 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 is silent for so long that Volumnia once more appeals to his duty to honour his parent, employing a phrase that registered immediately with Shakespeare: ‘No man living is more bounde to shewe him selfe thankfull in all partes and respects, then thy selfe’. She adds another phrase from which Shakespeare wrings a great deal of emotional pressure: ‘besides, thou has not hitherto shewed thy poore mother any curtesie’. Shakespeare has ‘Thou hast never in thy life / Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy’ (V.iii.160-1). Finally she falls to her knees and gains an immediate response:

But since by reason I cannot persuade thee to it, to what purpose doe I deferre 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 lenger, but went straight and lifte her up, crying out: Oh mother, what have you done to me? And holding her hard by the right hande, oh mother, sayed he, you have wonne a happy victorie for your countrie, but mortall and unhappy for your sonne: for I see my self vanquished by you alone.³⁸

Here is a fascinating crux for Shakespeare, because at this point Livy records that the Volsces were so shocked by the unnatural sight of the mother kneeling to her son that they turned away. Shakespeare inverts the situation. Clearly remembering Livy's comment, he has Martius appeal to Aufidius with the remark,

                                                                                Now, good Aufidius,
Were you in my stead, would you have heard
A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?

(V.iii.191-3)

The reply which he receives is terse and ambiguous: ‘I was mov'd withal’ (V.iii.194). This provides a fine example of Shakespeare following his source material closely at one level of his mind while at another level a variety of emotional and dramatic possibilities are being evaluated. He is never so enthralled by the rich narrative in front of him that he ceases to be actively analytical in contemplating the options available.

The Volsces quite naturally have divided feelings about the decision. However, ‘no man contraried his departure, but all obeyed his commaundement, more for respect of his worthines and valiancie, then for feare of his authoritie’.³⁹ The Romans experience a celebratory release of tension and set up a temple to the women. It is clear from their sense of relief that the Romans expected to be overwhelmed by Martius. In the circumstances, the Volsces had every reason to feel betrayed, as the terms which Martius had previously offered the Romans were perfectly reasonable. Nevertheless, Martius was held in such favour among the Volsces that he could have ridden out the storm but for the malice of Aufidius. Plutarch provides a comprehensive but economical account of what happened from the moment of their return to Antium to the final defeat of the Volsces:

Now when Martius was returned againe into the cittie of Antium from his voyage, Tullus that hated and could no lenger abide him for the feare he had of his authoritie: sought divers meanes to make him out of the waye, thinking that if he let slippe that present time, he should never recover the like and fit occasion againe … The people hereupon called a common counsaill, in which assembly there were certen oratours appointed, that stirred up the common people against him: and when they had tolde their tales, Martius rose up to make them aunswer. Now, notwithstanding the mutinous people made a marvelous great noyse, yet when they sawe him, for the reverence they bare unto his valliantnes, they quieted them selves, and gave still audience to alledge with leysure what he could for his purgation. Moreover, the honestest men of the Antiates, and who most rejoyced in peace, shewed by their countenaunce that they would heare him willingly, and judge also according to their conscience. Whereupon Tullus fearing that if he dyd let him speake, he would prove his innocencie to the people, bicause emongest other things he had an eloquent tongue, besides that the first good service he had done to the people of the Volsces, dyd winne him more favour, then these last accusations could purchase him displeasure. … For these causes Tullus thought he might no lenger delaye his pretence and enterprise, neither to tarie for the mutining and rising of the common people against him: wherefore, those that were of the conspiracie, beganne to crie out that he was not to be heard, nor that they would not suffer a traytour to usurpe tyrannicall power over the tribe of the Volsces, who would not yeld up his estate and authoritie. And in saying these wordes, they all fell upon him, and killed him in the market place, none of the people once offering to rescue him. Howbeit it is a clere case, that this murder was not generally consented unto, of the most parte of the Volsces: for men came out of all partes to honour his bodie, and dyd honorably burie him, setting out his tombe with great store of armour and spoyles, as the tombe of a worthie persone and great captaine. The Romaines understanding of his death, shewed no other honour or malice, saving that they graunted the ladyes the request they made: that they might mourne tenne moneths for him … Now Martius being dead, the whole state of the Volsces hartely wished him alive againe. For first of all they fell out with the Aeques … After that, the Romaines overcame them in battell, in which Tullus was slaine in the field, and the flower of all their force was put to the sworde: so that they were compelled to accept most shamefull conditions of peace, in yelding them selves subject unto the conquerers, and promising to be obedient at their commandement.⁴⁰

The most intriguing element in this description is Aufidius' manoeuvre to ensure that Martius does not have the opportunity to speak in his own defence ‘bicause emongest other things he had an eloquent tongue’. Shakespeare's treatment is dramatically much more powerful and psychologically more telling. Aufidius, just like the tribunes in the earlier ‘trial’ scene, knows full well that the best way to defeat Martius is to have him condemn himself out of his own mouth. In Rome the taunt that he could not endure was ‘traitor’; in Corioles the trigger is ‘boy of tears’. To have his manhood questioned, especially by Aufidius whom he has beaten so often, is unendurable. This is a master stroke from the character who saw Martius weep and said, ‘I was mov'd withal’ (V.iii.194). Martius' response is immediate, devastating and suicidal. To recall his feat of taking Corioles single-handed—‘like an eagle in a dove-cote’ (V.vi.114)—is enough to cause a wave of anger that permits Aufidius and his accomplices to kill him. The outburst is sufficient only to effect the murder. The recoil is instantaneous. The First Lord denounces Aufidius with the comment, ‘Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep’ (V.vi.132). Aufidius himself is therefore obliged to deliver a final encomium acknowledging the greatness of his adversary and rival:

Beat thou the drum that it speak mournfully;
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory.

(V.vi.149-53)

Interestingly, Livy has a less comprehensive account of Martius' fate and one which is also less certain:

When he had withdrawne the legions out of the territorie of Rome, he gat himselfe, men said, such hatred and displeasure for this action, that it cost him his life; and murdered he was, some report one way, some another. But I find in Fabius a most ancient writer, that he lived untill he was an old man: who reporteth this of him: That oftentimes in his latter daies he used to utter this speech, A heavie case and most wretched, for an aged man to live banisht.⁴¹

The alternative ending of Coriolanus' life possesses as much poignancy as the one indicated by Plutarch, but it has much less dramatic power. One significant point from the standpoint of the present study is that a distinguished Roman historian admits he does not know which account is true. Shakespeare frequently encountered this kind of statement in his historical researches, which must have encouraged his natural scepticism towards ‘historical facts’. The dramatist was able to perceive very clearly the way in which historical accounts were shaped by parties with vested interests, such as Octavius Caesar, or by ‘partial’ historians or romantics. This awareness must have fortified his natural proclivity for sifting, reevaluating and reshaping ‘historical’ details such as the murder of Hector by Achilles in Troilus and Cressida.

In his summing up of Martius' character Plutarch praises him for his incorruptibility but criticizes him for behaving contemptuously towards the common people and then being angered by their refusal to honour him:

For as it is an evill thing to flatter the common people to winne credit: even so is it besides dishonesty, and injustice also, to atteine to credit and authoritie, for one to make him selfe terrible to the people, by offering them wrong and violence … For he that disdaineth to make much of the people, and to have their favour, shoulde much more scorne to seeke to be revenged, when he is repulsed. For, to take a repulse and deniall of honour, so inwardly to the hart: commeth of no other cause, but that he did too earnestly desire it.⁴²

Here is a contrast between Shakespeare's interpretation of Coriolanus and Plutarch's. Although the dramatist creates a dialogue in which one officer protests that although it is a virtue not to flatter the common people it is a vice to deliberately scorn them (II.ii.16-23), Shakespeare's hero does not feel wounded by their failure to honour him. What makes him bitter is betrayal by the patricians. His idea of service to the state does not include the plebeians: conceptually, for him, they are outside the society. As he says when protesting about showing his battle scars to the people:

To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus,
Show them th'unaching scars which I should hide,
As if I had receiv'd them for the hire
Of their breath only!

(II.ii.147-50)

Plutarch's Martius does not possess this insulation from plebeian ingratitude. He is not as consistent as Shakespeare's. The historian's criticism does not apply to Shakespeare's hero. The historian's Coriolanus also suffers a further disability which is not shared by the hero of the play, namely, a lack of affability within his own peer group. In the play Coriolanus is betrayed or sacrificed by the patricians simply as an act of political expediency. The warrior who keeps the enemy from the gates provokes a crisis of such magnitude that the choice for the patricians lies between sanctioning his exile or countenancing civil war. Another criticism made by Plutarch is that Coriolanus used dishonest means to provoke the war between the Volsces and the Romans:

And Martius, as Dionysius the historiographer writeth: dyd by craft and deceipt bring the Romaines into warres against the Volsces, causing the Volsces maliciously, and wrongfully to be suspected, that went to Rome to see the games played.⁴³

Shakespeare's hero is devoid of this characteristic: he never exhibits guile or mendacity—though interestingly Livy attributes this quality to him as well, claiming that Aufidius and Martius ‘laid their heads together and complotted to make warre upon the Romanes’.⁴⁴ Finally, Plutarch denounces Coriolanus for rejecting the official embassies from Rome but succumbing to the pleas of his mother:

yet he had no reason for the love of his mother to pardone his contrie, but rather he should in pardoning his contrie, have spared his mother, bicause his mother and wife were members of the bodie of his contrie and city, which he did beseige … For he withdrew his army, not at the request of the Romaines, against whom he made warre: nor with their consent, at whose charge the warre was made … So by this dede of his, he tooke not away the enmity that was betwene both people: but leaving warre still betwene them, he made the Volsces (of whome he was generall) to lose the oportunity of noble victory.⁴⁵

Here again is a difference of emphasis between the historian and the dramatist, because in the play the focus of Volumnia's appeal is Martius' duty to Rome. What is clear from the narrative is that the Romans are unwilling to settle matters on a reasonable basis. They invite their own destruction by their intransigence. Failure to follow through the attack is, therefore, a total betrayal of the Volsces. The situation is different in the play: it appears that Coriolanus' aim is not to put the Volsces on a new footing with Rome, one much closer to equality, but a passionate desire to destroy Rome as an act of revenge. Why the Volsces can feel betrayed in the play is that they have been deprived of the opportunity of annihilating their enemies after suffering so many humiliating defeats at their hands.

The central difference between Plutarch and Shakespeare, however, is that the dramatist locates the source of the tragedy in the ethos of the society. The hero is the embodiment of the central value of his social universe: he is not an aberration but the epitome of the value system. Coriolanus absorbs the values with peculiar force by means of the special relationship he has with his mother and because he possesses remarkable integrity. All this would be perceived by the patricians as admirable in the social world which precedes the action of the play; at this juncture in history it is fatal. The play focuses on a collision of social forces at a time when the common people are acquiring a new sense of their place in the social universe. ‘Rome’ is no longer the aristocracy. The society is experiencing a metamorphosis: the aristocratic element can adapt and adjust; the political Machiavellians belonging to lower orders and the aristocratic lubricator of the system, Menenius, will manoeuvre for the best position circumstances will allow, and both will manipulate the people in the process. But as the earth moves in this social world there can be nothing but disaster for the man of fixed principles and powerful emotions. Constancy is now a fatal flaw; this is a world for the temporizer.

Notes

1. Plutarch's Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, translated by Sir Thomas North (1579); in Geoffrey Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare (8 vols, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London, 1966), vol. V, pp. 505-6.

2. Ibid., p. 506.

3. Ibid., p. 508.

4. Ibid., p. 510.

5. Ibid., p. 511.

6. The Romane History of T. Livy, translated by Philemon Holland (1600); in Geoffrey Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. V, p. 497.

7. Ibid., p. 499.

8. Plutarch's Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, in Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. V, p. 511.

9. Ibid., pp. 512-13.

10. Ibid., pp. 514-15.

11. Ibid., p. 516.

12. Ibid., p. 516.

13. Ibid., p. 517.

14. Ibid., pp. 517-18.

15. Ibid., p. 518.

16. Ibid., p. 518.

17. Ibid., p. 519.

18. Ibid., p. 520.

19. Ibid., pp. 522-3.

20. Ibid., p. 524.

21. Ibid., p. 525.

22. Ibid., pp. 525-6.

23. Ibid., p. 526.

24. Ibid., pp. 526-7.

25. Ibid., p. 527.

26. Ibid., p. 528.

27. Ibid., p. 528.

28. Ibid., p. 528.

29. Ibid., p. 530.

30. Ibid., p. 531.

31. Ibid., p. 532.

32. Ibid., p. 533.

33. Ibid., p. 533.

34. Ibid., p. 534.

35. Ibid., p. 534.

36. Ibid., p. 537.

37. Ibid., pp. 538-9.

38. Ibid., pp. 539-41.

39. Ibid., p. 541.

40. Ibid., pp. 543-4.

41. The Romane History of T. Livy, translated by Philemon Holland (1600); in Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. V, p. 505.

42. Plutarch's Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, translated by Sir Thomas North (1579); in Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. V, pp. 545-8.

43. Ibid., p. 545.

44. The Romane History of T. Livy, translated by Philemon Holland (1600); in Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. V, p. 502.

45. Plutarch's Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, translated by Sir Thomas North (1579); in Bullough (ed.), Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. V, pp. 547-8.