Original: This last old man,
Modern: This final old man,

Original: Whom with a crack’d heart I have sent to Rome,
Modern: Who I sent to Rome with a broken heart,

Original: Loved me above the measure of a father;
Modern: Loved me more than any father should;

Original: Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
Modern: No, he actually worshipped me like a god. Their last hope

Original: Was to send him; for whose old love I have,
Modern: Was to send him here; because of his past love for me,

Original: Though I show’d sourly to him, once more offer’d
Modern: Even though I treated him harshly, I offered one more time

Original: The first conditions, which they did refuse
Modern: The original terms, which they had refused

Original: And cannot now accept; to grace him only
Modern: And can’t accept now; just to honor him

Original: That thought he could do more, a very little
Modern: Who thought he could accomplish more, I’ve given in very slightly:

Original: I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits,
Modern: I’ve agreed to this: no new ambassadors or appeals,

Original: Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
Modern: Neither from the government nor from personal friends, from now on

Original: Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this?
Modern: Will I listen to. Wait! What’s that shouting?

Original: Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
Modern: Am I going to be tempted to break my promise

Original: In the same time ‘tis made? I will not.
Modern: At the very moment I make it? I won’t.

Original: My wife comes foremost; then the honour’d mould
Modern: My wife comes first; then the honored woman

Original: Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand
Modern: Who shaped my body, and in her hand

Original: The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection!
Modern: Her own grandchild. But away with love!

Original: All bond and privilege of nature, break!
Modern: Let all natural ties and family bonds be broken!

Original: Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.
Modern: Let stubbornness be seen as a virtue.

Original: What is that curt’sy worth? or those doves’ eyes,
Modern: What good is that bow? Or those gentle dove-like eyes,

Original: Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
Modern: Which could make even gods break their oaths? I’m melting, and I’m not

Original: Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows;
Modern: Made of tougher stuff than other men. My mother bows;

Original: As if Olympus to a molehill should
Modern: As if Mount Olympus were bowing down to a tiny molehill

Original: In supplication nod: and my young boy
Modern: In a plea for mercy: and my young son

Original: Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Modern: Has a look of pleading on his face, which

Original: Great nature cries ‘Deny not.’ let the Volsces
Modern: Nature itself demands I can’t refuse. Let the Volscians

Original: Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I’ll never
Modern: Destroy Rome and tear up Italy: I’ll never

Original: Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand,
Modern: Be such a foolish young goose to follow my feelings, but I’ll stand firm,

Original: As if a man were author of himself
Modern: As if a man created himself

Original: And knew no other kin.
Modern: And had no family at all.

In Act V, Scene 3 of Coriolanus, the exiled Roman general Coriolanus has aligned himself with his former enemies, the Volscians, and is preparing to attack Rome. His mother Volumnia, accompanied by his wife Virgilia, young son Martius, and family friend Valeria, arrives at the Volscian camp to plead with him. Volumnia employs every rhetorical strategy at her disposal, appealing to his filial duty, his role as husband and father, and his connection to Rome. She kneels before him, forcing him into the uncomfortable position of having his mother, wife, and child all prostrate themselves before him.

Coriolanus initially resists their entreaties, torn between his desire for revenge against the Roman citizens who banished him and his deep emotional bonds to his family. However, Volumnia’s persistent appeals gradually wear down his resolve. When she threatens to prevent him from marching over her body to reach Rome, and after his young son speaks to him, Coriolanus finally yields. He agrees to make peace between Rome and the Volscians rather than destroy his native city, knowing this decision will likely cost him his life. The women depart victorious, having saved Rome through their intervention, while Coriolanus remains to face the consequences of his choice with Aufidius and the Volscian army.

Coriolanus tells the tragic story of a Roman military hero whose pride and contempt for the common people ultimately leads to his downfall. The play opens with Roman citizens rioting over grain shortages, angry at the patrician class’s indifference to their suffering. Caius Marcius, a fierce Roman general, successfully leads the siege against the Volscian city of Corioles, earning the honorary name “Coriolanus.” Despite his military prowess, he openly despises the plebeians (common citizens) and reluctantly agrees to seek the consulship only at his mother Volumnia’s urging.

When Coriolanus runs for consul, he must follow tradition by displaying his war wounds to the citizens and asking for their votes. Though initially successful, the tribunes Brutus and Sicinius manipulate the fickle crowd against him, exploiting his arrogant nature and aristocratic disdain. When Coriolanus explodes in rage against the people’s ingratitude and the democratic process itself, he is banished from Rome. His famous response - “I banish you!” - reveals his wounded pride and inability to bend to political necessity.

In exile, Coriolanus seeks out his former enemy Aufidius, leader of the Volscians, and offers to help destroy Rome in revenge. Together they march on the city with devastating success. As Rome faces imminent destruction, various delegations plead with Coriolanus to spare the city, but he remains unmoved until his mother Volumnia, wife Virgilia, and young son appear before him. In the play’s climactic scene, Volumnia’s emotional appeal finally breaks through his resolve, and he agrees to make peace - knowing this decision will likely cost him his life. True to expectation, Aufidius and his conspirators kill Coriolanus for his “betrayal,” viewing his mercy toward Rome as weakness and treachery to their cause.