ally complimentary to his fellow citizens. "You are they," says he,

"That make the air unwholesome, when you cast
Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at
Coriolanus's exile."
(Act 4, Sc. 7.)

And he laughs at the "apron-men" of Cominius and their "breath of
garlic-eaters" (Act 4, Sc. 7). When Coriolanus is asked to address the
people, he replies by saying: "Bid them wash their faces, and keep their
teeth clean" (Act 2, Sc. 3). According to Shakespeare, the Roman
populace had made no advance in cleanliness in the centuries between
Coriolanus and Caesar. Casca gives a vivid picture of the offer of the
crown to Julius, and his rejection of it: "And still as he refused it
the rabblement shouted, and clapped their chapped hands, and threw up
their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath,
because Caesar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Caesar, for he
swooned and fell down at it. And for mine own part I durst not laugh,
for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air." And he calls
them the "tag-rag people" (Julius Caesar, Act 1, Sc. 2). The play of
"Coriolanus" is a mine of insults to the people and it becomes tiresome
to quote them. The hero calls them the "beast with many heads" (Act 4,
Sc. 3), and again he says to the crowd:

"What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion
Make yourself scabs?

First Citizen. We have ever your good word.

Coriolanus. He that will give good words to ye will flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
That like not peace nor war? The one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
Where he would find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese; you are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
To make him worthy whose offense subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness
Deserves your hate; and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favors, swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?
With every minute you do change a mind,
And call him noble that was now your hate,
Him vile that was your garland."
(Act 1, Sc. 1.)

His mother, V