eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such companions? Pray, get you out.

Cor. Away!

2 Serv. Away? Get you away.

Cor. Now thou art troublesome.

2 Ser. Are you so brave? I'll have you talk'd with anon.

Enter a third SERVANT.-The first meets him. 3 Serv. What fellow's this?

1 Serv. A strange one as ever I look'd on: I cannot get him out o' the house: pr'ythee, call my master to him.

3 Ser. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house.

Cor. Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.

3 Serv. What are you? Cor. A gentleman.

3 Serv. A marvellous poor one.

Cor. True, so I am.

3 Serv. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid come.

Cor. Follow your function, go!

And battent on cold bits.

[Pushes him away.

3 Serv. What, will you not? Pr'ythee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.

21Serv. And I shall.

3 Serv. Where dwellest thou?

Cor. Under the canopy.

3 Ser. Under the canopy?

Cor. Ay.

3 Serv. Where's that?

Cor. I' the city of kites and crows.

[Exit.

3 Serv. I' the city of kites and crows?-What an ass it is!-Then thou dwellest with daws too! Cor. No, I serve not thy master.

3 Serv. How, Sir! Do you meddle with my

master?

Cor. Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress:

Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy trencher, hence!

[Beats him away.

Enter AUFIDIUS and the second SERVANT.

Auf. Where is this fellow?

⚫ Fellows.

+ Feed.

:

2 Serv. Here, Sir; I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within.

Auf. Whence comest thou ? What wouldst thou ?

Thy name?

Why speak'st not? Speak, man: What's thy

name?

Cor. If, Tullus,

[Unmuffling.

Not yet thou know'st me, and seeing me, dost not

Think me for the man I am, necessity

☐ Commands me name myself.

Auf. What is thy name?

[Servants retire.

Cor. A name unmusical to the Volcians' ears,

And harsh in sound to thine.

Auf. Say, what's thy name?

Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face
Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn, '
Thou shew'st a noble vessel: What's thy name?
Cor. Prepare thy brow to frown: Know'st thou

me yet?

Auf. I know thee not:-Thy name?

Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly, and to all the Volces, Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood Shed for my thankless country, are requited But with that surname; a good memory*, And witness of the malice and displeasure Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name re

mains;

The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
And suffered me by the voice of slaves to be
Whoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope,
Mistake me not, to save my life; for if
I had fear'd death, of all the inen i' the world
I would have 'voided thee: but in mere spite,
To be full quit of those my banishers,
Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
A heart of wreak & in thee, that will revenge
Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those maims‡
Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee

straight,

And make my misery serve thy turn; so use it,
That my revengeful services may prove

* Memorial.

+ Resentment.

‡ Injuries.

As benefits to thee; for I will fight
Against my canker'd country with the spleen
Of all the under fiends. But if so be

Thou darest not this, and that to prove more for

tunes

Thou art tired, then, in a word, I also am
Longer to live most weary, and present
My throat to thee, and to thy ancient malice:
Which not to cut, would shew thee but a fool;
Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
It be to do thee service.

Auf. O, Marcius, Marcius,

Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my

heart

A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter

Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and

Here I clip+

say, 'Tis true; I'd not believe them more than thee, All-noble Marcius.-0, let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, And scar'd the moon with splinters! The anvil of my sword; and do contest As hotly and as nobly with thy love, As ever in ambitious strength I did Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, I loved the maid I married; never man Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, Thou noble thing! More dances my rapt heart, Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell

thee,

We have a power on foot; and I had purpose
Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn‡
Or lose mine arm for't: thou hast beat me out
Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me;
We have been down together in my sleep,
Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Mar-

cius,

Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy ||; and, pouring war

* Infernal. † Arm.

§ Full.

+ Embrace. Years of age.

Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,

Like a bold flood o'er-beat. O, come, go in,
And take our friendly senators by the hands;
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepared against your territories,

Though not for Rome itself.

Cor. You bless me, Gods!

Auf. Therefore, most absolute Sir, if thou wilt

have

The leading of thine own revenges, take
The one half of my commission; and set down,-
As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st
Thy country's strength and weakness, thine own

ways:

Whether to knock against the gates of Rome;
Or rudely visit them in parts remote,
To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:
Let me commend thee first to those, that shall
Say, yea, to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand! Most

welcome!

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. 1 Serv. [Advancing.] Here's a strange alteration! 2 Serv. By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me, his clothes made a false report of him.

1 Serv. What an arm he has! He turn'd me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.

2 Serv. Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in him: he had, Sir, a kind of face, methought, I cannot tell how to term it.

1 Serv. He had so: looking as it were,--'Would I were hang'd, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

2 Serv. So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest man i' the world.

1 Serv. I think, he is but a greater soldier than

he, you wot one.

2 Serv. Who? My master?

1 Serv. Nay, it's no matter for that.

2 Serv. Worth six of him.

1 Serv. Nay, not so neither; but I take him to be

the greater soldier.

2 Serv. 'Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: for the defence of a town, our general is

excellent.

1 Serv. Ay, and for an assault too.

A

Re-enter third SERVANT.

3 Serv. O, slaves, I can tell you news; news, you rascals.

1. 2. Serv. What, what, what? Let's partake.

3 Serv. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lieve be a condemn'd man.

1. 2. Serv. Wherefore? Wherefore?

3 Serv. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Marcius.

1 Serv. Why do you say, thwack our general? 3 Serv. I do not say, thwack our general; but he was always good enough for him.

2 Serv. Come, we are fellows, and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.

1 Serv. He was too hard for him directly, to say the truth on't: before Corioli, he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a carbonado*.

2 Serv. An he had been cannibally given, he might have broil'd and eaten him too.

1 Serv. But, more of thy news?

3 Serv. Why, he is so made on here within, as if he was son and heir to Mars: set at upper end o the table: no question ask'd 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' the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' the 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 sowlet the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he will mow down all before him, and leave his passage polled ‡.

2 Serv. And he's as like to do't, as any man I can imagine.

3 Serv. Do't? He will do't: for, look you, Sir, he has as many friends as enemies: which friends, Sir, (as it were), durst not (look you, Sir), shew themselves (as we term it), his friends, whilst he's in directitude.

1 Serv. Directitude! What's that?

3 Serv. But when they shall see, Sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood §, they will out of their burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with him.

* Meat cut across to be broiled. + Pull.

‡ Cut clear.

§ Vigour.