Here he found himself almost alone, for very few had followed him. The
enemy turned on the bold invaders, but Caius proved so strong of hand
and stout of heart that he drove them all before him, keeping a way
clear for the Romans, who soon thronged in through the open gate and
took the city. The army gave Caius the sole credit for the victory,
saying that he alone had taken Corioli; and the general said, "Let him
be called after the name of the city." He was, therefore, afterwards
known by the name of Caius Marcius Coriolanus.

Courage was not the only marked quality of Coriolanus. His pride was
equally great. He was a noble of the nobles, so haughty in demeanor and
so disdainful of the commons that they grew to hate him bitterly. At
length came a time of great scarcity of food. The people were on the
verge of famine, to relieve which shiploads of corn were sent from
Sicily to Rome. The senate resolved to distribute this corn among the
suffering people, but Coriolanus opposed this, saying, "If they want
corn let them show their obedience to the Patricians, as their fathers
did, and give up their tribunes. If they do this we will let them have
corn, and take care of them."

When the people heard of what the proud noble had said they broke into
such fury that a mob gathered around the doors of the senate house,
prepared to seize and tear him to pieces when he came out. They were
checked in this by the tribunes, who said, "Let us not have violence. We
will accuse him of treason before the assembly, and you shall be his
judges."

The tribunes, therefore, as the law gave them the right, summoned
Coriolanus to appear before the popular tribunal and answer to the
charges against him. But he, knowing how deeply he had offended them,
and that they would show him no mercy, stayed not for the trial, but
fled from Rome, exiled from his native land by his pride and disdain of
the people.

The exile made his way to the land of the Volscians, and seating himself
by the hearth-fire of Attius Tullius, their chief, waited there with
covered head till his late bitter foe should come in. How Attius would
receive him he knew not; but he was homeless, and had now only his
enemies to trust. But when the chieftain entered, and learned that the
man who sat crouched beside his hearth, subject to his will, was the
great warrior who by his own hands had taken a Volscian city, but was
now banished and a fugitive, he was filled with compassi