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Shakespeare's Monologues



Volumnia — “Should we be silent and not speak” — Coriolanus, Act 5, Scene 3, line 108



Coriolanus Play summary   ·V iii 108Scene summary  · Verse
Volumnia

Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
And state of bodies would bewray what life
We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;
Making the mother, wife and child to see
The son, the husband and the father tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
Alas, how can we for our country pray.
Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
With manacles thorough our streets, or else
triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
And bear the palm for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune till
These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread—
Trust to't, thou shalt not—on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.
Modern paraphrasing 👆 Click for a double-spaced PDF of this monologue

Original: Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
Modern: Even if we stayed quiet and said nothing, our clothes

Original: And state of bodies would bewray what life
Modern: And the condition of our bodies would reveal what kind of life

Original: We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
Modern: We’ve been living since you were banished. Just think about it—

Original: How more unfortunate than all living women
Modern: How we are more miserable than any other women alive

Original: Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should
Modern: Who have come here to see you: because seeing you, which should

Original: Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Modern: Make us cry tears of happiness and fill our hearts with joy,

Original: Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;
Modern: Instead forces us to weep and tremble with fear and grief;

Original: Making the mother, wife and child to see
Modern: Making your mother, wife, and child watch

Original: The son, the husband and the father tearing
Modern: As you—our son, husband, and father—tear apart

Original: His country’s bowels out. And to poor we
Modern: Your own country’s guts. And for us poor women,

Original: Thine enmity’s most capital: thou barr’st us
Modern: Your hatred hits us the hardest: you prevent us from

Original: Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
Modern: Praying to the gods, which is a comfort

Original: That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
Modern: That everyone except us can enjoy; because how can we—

Original: Alas, how can we for our country pray,
Modern: Oh, how can we pray for our country’s victory

Original: Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Modern: Which we’re loyal to, when that means praying for your defeat,

Original: Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
Modern: Which we’re also bound to support? We’re trapped—we must lose either

Original: The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
Modern: Our beloved country that raised us, or else you,

Original: Our comfort in the country. We must find
Modern: Who is our comfort in this world. We’re guaranteed

Original: An evident calamity, though we had
Modern: To face disaster, no matter which side

Original: Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
Modern: We might wish would win: because either you

Original: Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
Modern: Will be dragged as a foreign traitor

Original: With manacles thorough our streets, or else
Modern: In chains through our streets, or else you’ll

Original: triumphantly tread on thy country’s ruin,
Modern: March victoriously over your ruined homeland,

Original: And bear the palm for having bravely shed
Modern: And claim the prize for having courageously spilled

Original: Thy wife and children’s blood. For myself, son,
Modern: Your own wife’s and children’s blood. As for me, my son,

Original: I purpose not to wait on fortune till
Modern: I don’t intend to wait around for fate until

Original: These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
Modern: These wars are over: if I can’t convince you

Original: Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
Modern: To show mercy and honor to both sides

Original: Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
Modern: Instead of trying to destroy one side, then the moment

Original: March to assault thy country than to tread—
Modern: You march to attack your country, you’ll be stepping—

Original: Trust to’t, thou shalt not—on thy mother’s womb,
Modern: Believe me, you will not—on your mother’s womb,

Original: That brought thee to this world.
Modern: The same womb that brought you into this world.

In Act V, Scene 3 of Coriolanus, the banished Roman general Coriolanus stands with the Volscian army outside Rome, preparing to attack his former city. His mother Volumnia, wife Virgilia, son young Marcius, and family friend Valeria arrive to plead with him to spare Rome. Initially, Coriolanus maintains his resolve, greeting them coldly and insisting he will not be swayed by family bonds. However, as the scene progresses, the emotional weight of facing his loved ones begins to affect him, particularly when his mother kneels before him in supplication.

Volumnia delivers an impassioned speech, appealing to Coriolanus’s sense of honor and arguing that attacking Rome would bring dishonor to his name and destroy his family. She emphasizes that he cannot achieve true victory by conquering his homeland, as it would make him a traitor rather than a hero. Moved by his mother’s words and the sight of his family’s distress, Coriolanus finally relents. He agrees to make peace between Rome and the Volscians, knowing this decision will likely cost him his life. The family embraces, and Volumnia departs triumphant, having successfully saved Rome through her maternal influence over her son.

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.