Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends
They have chose a consul that will from them take
Their liberties, make them of no more voice
Than dogs that are as often beat for barking
As therefor kept to do so. (2.3.237–41)
Brutus the tribune addresses these lines to some of the citizens of Rome who have just given their votes to Coriolanus. In the language of Shakespeare’s time, the word for vote was “voice”—a term that makes clear the democratic principle in which political representatives serve as mouthpieces for their constituents, voicing their grievances on their behalf. Brutus takes advantage of this meaning when he insists that the very man to whom the citizens have just given their “voices” threatens to “make them of no more voice / Than dogs.” That is, Brutus believes that Coriolanus is a tyrant who will take away the plebeians’ political voices. This belief underscores the double-sided nature of political speech, which can be made speak in favor of its own silencing.
Consider this: he has been bred i’ th’ wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill schooled
In bolted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction. (3.1.408–411)
After the tribunes convince the citizens to revoke their votes for Coriolanus, they go before the senate, not only exclaiming that Coriolanus has lost the vote, but also declaring that he’s a traitor to the people. As evidence for his treason, they cite the disdain for common people that’s plainly evident in the way he addresses them. Menenius then speaks up with these lines, where he insists that Coriolanus “is ill schooled / In bolted language,” and that he mustn’t be judged too harshly for his lack of refinement in speech. The image Menenius invokes here is the act of bolting, which involves carefully sifting flour (“meal”) from husk (“bran”). But despite this attempt to intervene, it’s clear that Coriolanus’s words have already had political consequences that will be difficult to mitigate. No speech is neutral.
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. (3.2.68–73)
Volumnia addresses these lines to Coriolanus, who is scheduled to appear once more before the plebeians to hear their grievances against him. Coriolanus repeatedly resists having to address the common people, complaining that doing so requires him to play a role that he finds disagreeably inauthentic. Like her fellow patricians, Volumnia dismisses her son’s complaint and insists that playing such a role is easy. He doesn’t need to worry about what he thinks he should say; rather, he should simply stick to the script that is “but roted in / Your tongue.” This script may give “no allowance to your bosom’s truth,” but this shouldn’t concern him as long as he accepts that this is what being a politician entails. Though her advice is realistic, Coriolanus views it as cynical, and he cannot abide by the thought of speaking disingenuously.