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CORIOLANUS: A gentleman.

Third Servingman: A marvellous poor one.

CORIOLANUS: True, so I am.

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

CORIOLANUS: Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.

Third Servingman: What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.

Second Servingman: And I shall.

Third Servingman: Where dwellest thou?

CORIOLANUS: Under the canopy.

Third Servingman: Under the canopy!

CORIOLANUS: Ay.

Third Servingman: Where's that?

CORIOLANUS: I' the city of kites and crows.

Third Servingman: I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! Then thou dwellest with daws too?

CORIOLANUS: No, I serve not thy master.

Third Servingman: How, sir! do you meddle with my master?

CORIOLANUS: Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy trencher, hence!

AUFIDIUS: Where is this fellow?

Second Servingman: Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within.

AUFIDIUS: Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name?

CORIOLANUS: If, Tullus, Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not Think me for the man I am, necessity Commands me name myself.

AUFIDIUS: What is thy name?

CORIOLANUS: A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine.

AUFIDIUS: Say, what's thy name? Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn. Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name?

CORIOLANUS: Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st thou me yet?

AUFIDIUS: I know thee not: thy name?

CORIOLANUS: My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly and to all the Volsces 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 remains; The cruelty and envy of the people, Permitted by our dastard nobles, who Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; And suffer'd 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 men 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 wilt 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 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 fortunes Thou'rt 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 show 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.

AUFIDIUS: O Marcius, Marcius! Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yond cloud speak divine things, And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash an hundred times hath broke And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip 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 fort: 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 Marcius, 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 Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, Like a bold flood o'er-bear. 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.

CORIOLANUS: You bless me, gods!

AUFIDIUS: 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!

First Servingman: Here's a strange alteration!

Second Servingman: 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.

First Servingman: What an arm he has! he turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.

Second Servingman: 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.

First Servingman: He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

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

First Servingman: I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on.

Second Servingman: Who, my master?

First Servingman: Nay, it's no matter for that.

Second Servingman: Worth six on him.

First Servingman: Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the greater soldier.

Second Servingman: Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.

First Servingman: Ay, and for an assault too.

Third Servingman: O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!

First Servingman: What, what, what? let's partake.

Third Servingman: I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lieve be a condemned man.

First Servingman: Wherefore? wherefore?

Third Servingman: Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Marcius.

First Servingman: Why do you say 'thwack our general '?

Third Servingman: I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always good enough for him.

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

First Servingman: He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched him like a carbon ado.

Second Servingman: An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too.

First Servingman: But, more of thy news?

Third Servingman: Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the 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' the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is that 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 sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled.

Second Servingman: And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.

Third Servingman: 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, show themselves, as we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude.

First Servingman: Directitude! what's that?

Third Servingman: 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.

First Servingman: But when goes this forward?

Third Servingman: To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.

Second Servingman: Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

First Servingman: Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a destroyer of men.

Second Servingman: 'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.

First Servingman: Ay, and it makes men hate one another.

Third Servingman: Reason; because they then less need one another. The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising.

All: In, in, in, in!

SICINIUS: We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; His remedies are tame i' the present peace And quietness of the people, which before Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see Our tradesmen with in their shops and going About their functions friendly.

BRUTUS: We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?

SICINIUS: 'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.

Both Tribunes: Hail sir!

MENENIUS: Hail to you both!

SICINIUS: Your Coriolanus Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, Were he more angry at it.

MENENIUS: All's well; and might have been much better, if He could have temporized.

SICINIUS: Where is he, hear you?

MENENIUS: Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.

Citizens: The gods preserve you both!

SICINIUS: God-den, our neighbours.

BRUTUS: God-den to you all, god-den to you all.

First Citizen: Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, Are bound to pray for you both.

SICINIUS: Live, and thrive!

BRUTUS: Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus Had loved you as we did.

Citizens: Now the gods keep you!

Both Tribunes: Farewell, farewell.

SICINIUS: This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows ran about the streets, Crying confusion.

BRUTUS: Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving,--

SICINIUS: And affecting one sole throne, Without assistance.

MENENIUS: I think not so.

SICINIUS: We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

BRUTUS: The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without him.

AEdile: Worthy tribunes, There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, Reports, the Volsces with two several powers Are enter'd in the Roman territories, And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before 'em.

MENENIUS: 'Tis Aufidius, Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, And durst not once peep out.

SICINIUS: Come, what talk you Of Marcius?

BRUTUS: Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be The Volsces dare break with us.

MENENIUS: Cannot be! We have record that very well it can, And three examples of the like have been Within my age. But reason with the fellow, Before you punish him, where he heard this, Lest you shall chance to whip your information And beat the messenger who bids beware Of what is to be dreaded.

SICINIUS: Tell not me: I know this cannot be.

BRUTUS: Not possible.

Messenger: The nobles in great earnestness are going All to the senate-house: some news is come That turns their countenances.

SICINIUS: 'Tis this slave;-- Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising; Nothing but his report.

Messenger: Yes, worthy sir, The slave's report is seconded; and more, More fearful, is deliver'd.