A skilled orator and cunning diplomat, Menenius employs the common early modern political allegory of the “body politic,” which imagines the nation as a single biological body. In Act 1, Scene 1, he attempts to quell an angry mob, saying:
There was a time when all the body’s members
Rebelled against the belly, thus accused it:
That only like a gulf it did remain
I’ th’ midst o’ th’ body, idle and unactive
Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
Like labor with the rest, where th’ other instruments
Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
And, mutually participate, did minister
Unto the appetite and affection common
Of the whole body. [...]
In early modern political theory, a kingdom or state was often understood through the allegory of the “body politic,” which assigned different roles to different classes of society, just as different organs and body parts serve different purposes but are nevertheless dependent upon one another. In Menenius’s allegorical parable, the “body’s members” rebel against the “belly,” as they feel that it does not work but nevertheless hoards all the food for itself. For Menenius, then, the angry crowds are like the rebellious body parts that attack the “belly” or the ruling class, which they regard as lazy and greedy. For Menenius, such rebellion is self-destructive, as the different social classes all constitute a single “body” and are therefore reliant upon each other for survival.
After Menenius begins to tell his parable of the belly, though, the Second Citizen interrupts him. He mocks the elderly statesman’s political clichés, further developing the allegory of the body politic:
SECOND CITIZEN
Your belly’s answer –what?
The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye,
The counselor heart, the arm our soldier,
Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,
With other muniments and petty helps
In this our fabric, if that they--
MENENIUS
Well, what then?
‘Fore me, this fellow speaks. What then? What then?
SECOND CITIZEN
Should by the cormorant belly be restrained,
Who is the sink o’ th’ body—
Menenius’s parable, which imagines the organs of the body rebelling against the stomach, is clearly familiar to the Roman crowds. This allegorical image of the state as a body was in fact common in Shakespeare’s own time. Mockingly, the Second Citizen “finishes” Menenius’s parable for him, listing off the conventions of this popular political allegory. He identifies, in accordance with early modern thought, the king as the “head” of the body, the authorities as the “vigilant eye,” the royal counselor as “heart,” the soldiers as “arm,” the cavalry as “leg,” and the trumpeter as “tongue.”
Menenius is outraged at the interruption, demanding that the Second Citizen finish the tale if he is going to interrupt him. In response, the Second Citizen uses a metaphor that compares the belly to a “cormorant.” In Shakespeare’s day, the cormorant was understood to be a greedy bird that could eat far more fish than it needed to survive. The Second Citizen, then, metaphorically suggests that the belly of the body politic, which represents the wealthy, has taken more than its fair share of resources.
A similar debate appears later in the play. When the citizens debate whether they should accept Coriolanus's candidacy for the consulship of Rome, they imply that the body-politic allegory is ill-suited for describing the complexities of a democratic state. The Third Citizen argues that if the state really did have a single body and a single head, it wouldn’t know where to turn. By highlighting this viewpoint, the play destabilizes the allegory of the body politic that the ruling class is apparently so eager to advance.
At the end of the battle with the Volscians, Coriolanus has yet again proven himself a brave and capable warrior. However, he is hesitant to accept flattery or compliments, and he resists the desire of the Roman generals to be heralded in public upon return to Rome. Cominius, the commander-in-chief of the Roman army, condemns Coriolanus’s apparent modesty, using a series of metaphors to suggest that Coriolanus must accept the honors granted to him:
You shall not be
The grave of your deserving. Rome must know
The vaule of her own. 'Twere a concealment
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement
To hide your doings and to silence that
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouched,
Would seem but modest. Therefore, I beseech you—
In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done.
Cominius asserts that Coriolanus must not be “the grave” of his own deserving. Through this metaphor, Cominius suggests that Coriolanus must accept that the stories of his brave exploits will be spread far and wide, and ultimately his legacy will outlive him. If he were to keep his stories to himself, then Coriolanus would kill and bury his own legacy. Further, Cominius metaphorically compares Coriolanus’s silence to an act of "theft," keeping to himself the stories that ought to be shared with the public. Though Cominius compliments Coriolanus, praising his courageous “doings” in battle, there is also a sense of coercion in his language here. Whether or not he wants to, Coriolanus will be forced to accept honors in Rome.
When Coriolanus finally returns to Rome after his victory on the battlefield, he is greeted by his mother, Volumnia, and his friend and mentor Menenius, who welcomes him with a series of botanical metaphors:
A hundred thousand welcomes! I could weep,
And I could laugh; I am light and heavy. Welcome.
A curse begin at very root on’s heart
That is not glad to see thee! You are three
That Rome should dote on; yet, by the faith of men,
We have some old crab trees here at home that will not
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors!
We call a nettle but a nettle, and
The faults of fools but folly.
First, Menenius places a curse at the “very root” of the hearts of those who are not glad to see him return, referencing the two tribunes of the plebeians, Sicinius and Brutus, who oppose Coriolanus. Next, he refers to them metaphorically as “old crab trees” who will not be “grafted” onto him. Here, Menenius refers metaphorically to the agricultural practice of “grafting” the branches of a fruit tree onto the trump or stem of some other plant. Because they are firm in their opposition to Coriolanus, Menenius imagines Sicinius and Brutus as trees that have little economic value and which will not be altered in order to be more favorable to Coriolanus.
After Coriolanus’s disastrous public presentation in the Roman marketplace, the citizens call for his execution. Menenius attempts to quell the furious crowds, though Sicinius and Brutus, tribunes for the plebs, metaphorically compare Coriolanus to an infected limb that be amputated for the health of the body:
SICINIUS
He’s a disease that must be cut away.MENENIUS
O, he’s a limb that has but a disease—
Mortal to cut it off; to cure it easy.
What has he done to Rome that’s worthy death? […]BRUTUS
This is clean cam.
Merely awry. When he did love his country,
It honored him.SICINIUS
The service of the foot,
Being once gangrened, is not then respected
For what before it was.BRUTUS
We’ll hear no more.
Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence,
Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
Spread further.
Arguing for Coriolanus’s execution for treason, Sicinius compares Coriolanus to a “disease that must be cut away.” Picking up on Sicinius’s medical metaphor, Menenius further develops it, arguing that Coriolanus is a limb that is too important to the health of the body to be cut off, but which can instead be easily cured. Sicinius and Brutus are unconvinced. A foot afflicted with gangrene, Sicinius argues, is cut off despite its previous service on behalf of the body, just as Coriolanus must be executed despite his service for Rome. Brutus follows his logic, arguing that Coriolanus must be killed quickly before the “infection” spreads “further” into the other limbs of the body.
Urging her son to return to the Roman marketplace in an attempt to quell the angry crowds that have called for his execution, Volumnia uses a metaphor that imagine lies as “bastards” or illegitimate children:
Because that now it lies you on to speak
To th’ people, not by your own instruction,
Nor by th’ matter which your heart prompts you,
But with such words that are but roted in
Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
Of no allowance to your bosom’s truth.
Now, this no more dishonors you at all
Than to take in a town with gentle words,
Which else would put you to your fortune and
The hazard of much blood.
Recognizing that Coriolanus’s stubborn honesty has contributed to his political downfall, she urges him not to speak in the manner in which his “heart prompts” him, but rather, with “roted” (that is, memorized) lines that are “but bastards” that do not reflect his “bosom’s truth.” Here, she compares dishonest speech to illegitimate children, whom she suggests have no place in the “heart” of a parent. To lie, she argues, does not bring dishonor upon an individual, as deception is considered a fair tactic even in warfare. Her argument is designed to appeal to Coriolanus as a warrior who tends to think of all conflicts in terms of war.
After his banishment from Rome, Coriolanus turns to Corioli, the capital city of the Volscians and the home of his longstanding enemy, Aufidius. In the streets, a Volscian and Roman soldier meet to exchange information, using a series of closely related metaphors that imagine the political turbulence of Rome as a fire:
VOLSCE
Hath been? Is it ended, then? Our state thinks
not so. They are in a most warlike preparation and
hope to come upon them in the heat of their
division.
ROMAN
The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing
would make it flame again; for the nobles receive
so to heart the banishment of that worthy Coriolanus
that they are in a ripe aptness to take all power
from the people and to pluck from them their tribunes
forever. This lies glowing, I can tell you, and
is almost mature for the violent breaking out.
The Volscian soldier suggests that Aufidius intends to attack Rome while the city is in the “heat” of its internal conflicts between the plebeians and the patricians. Picking up on the Volsce’s reference to “heat,” the Roman argues that the “main blaze” of the conflict has ended but that any “small thing / would make it flame again.” The Roman, then, claims that the underlying tensions in Rome have not been settled and that any new development might mark the return of open hostilities. These tensions, he argues, remain “glowing,” like a heated lump of coal that could, if blown upon, be set aflame.
After his banishment from Rome, Coriolanus travels to Corioli, a Volscian city, where he finds the court of his former nemesis Aufidius and declares his loyalty to the Volscians, hoping to revenge himself upon Rome. Rather than turning Coriolanus away, Aufidius welcomes him with open arms, treating the Roman warrior with a high degree of honor, respect, and admiration. The Third Servingman, a commoner employed by Aufidius, uses simile, metaphor, and allusion in describing Coriolanus’s treatment in the Volscian court:
Why, he is so made on here within
as if he were son and heir to Mars; set at upper end
o’ th’ table; no question asked him by any of the
senators but they stand bald before him. Our general
himself makes a mistress of him, sanctifies
himself with ’s hand, and turns up the white o’ th’
eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is,
our general is cut i’ th’ middle and but one half of
what he was yesterday, for the other has half,
by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He’ll go,
he says, and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th’ears.
Coriolanus, the Servingman claims, has been treated “as if he were son and heir to Mars.” Through this simile, the Third Servingman compares Coriolanus to a god or half-god. More specifically, he alludes to Mars, the Roman god of war, reflecting Coriolanus’s status as a prolific warrior in battle. Aufidius, conversely, “makes a mistress” of his former enemy, a metaphor that suggests Aufidius is carefully courting Coriolanus in the manner of a lover.
As the Volscians prepare to attack Rome, word spreads through Rome that the Volscian troops are led by none other than Coriolanus, who has switched allegiances in order to revenge himself upon his home nation, from which he has been banished. While telling Menenius about his own failed attempt to reach out to Coriolanus and seek mercy on behalf of Rome, Cominius conveys a metaphor originally spoken by Coriolanus:
COMINIUS
I offered to awaken his regard
For ’s private friends. His answer to me was
He could not stay to pick them in a pile
Of noisome musty chaff. He said ’twas folly
For one poor grain or two to leave unburnt
And still to nose th’ offense.
MENENIUS
For one poor grain or two!
I am one of those! His mother, wife, his child,
And this brave fellow too, we are the grains;
You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt
Above the moon. We must be burnt for you.
Coriolanus, Cominius reports, claimed not to recognize him, as he does not have time to “pick” his friends from a “pile” of “noisome musty chaff.” In other words, Coriolanus claims that he cannot identify his former friends from the broader crowds of Rome, which he metaphorically compares to a pile of spoiled or rotten “chaff,” an agricultural byproduct. Further, Coriolanus claims that he must burn the rotten piles of chaff and cannot spare them for the sake of “one poor grain or two.” Picking up on these metaphors, Menenius identifies himself, Volumnia, Virgilia, and Coriolanus’s son as the “poor grain or two” who will be burnt alongside the spoiled pile of chaff. Addressing the tribunes, he laments that he must be “burnt” alongside those who deserve their punishment.
