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Cit. And you.

Enter a Citizen.

Cor. Direct me, if it be your will, where great Aufidius lies:

Is he in Antium ?

Cit. He is, and feafts the Nobles of the State, at his houfe this night.

Cor. Which is his house, I beseech you?

Cit. This, here, before you.

Cor. Thank you, Sir: Farewel.

[Exit Citizen..

Oh, world, thy flippery turns! friends now faft

fworn,

Whose double bofoms feem to wear one heart,
Whofe hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise
Are ftill together, who twine (as 'twere) in love
Unfeparable, fhall within this hour,

On a diffenfion of a doit, break out
To bittereft enmity. So felleft foes,

Whofe paffions and whofe plots have broke their fleep
To take the one the other, by fome chance,

Some trick not worth an egg, fhall grow dear friends,.
And inter-join their iffues. So, with me;-
My birth-place have I and my lovers left;
This enemy's Town I'll enter; if he flay me,
He does fair juftice; if he give me way,
I'll do his Country service.

1 Ser.

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Changes to a Hall in Aufidius's House.
Mufic plays. Enter a Serving-man.

[Exit.

WINE, wine, wine! what service is here?

think, our fellows are afleep.

Enter another Serving-man.

[Exit.

2 Ser. Where's Cotus? my Mafter calls for him ::

Cotus.

Enter

Enter Coriolanus.

Cor. A goodly houfe; the feaft fmells well; but Lappear not like a guest.

Enter the firft Serving-man.

1 Ser. What would you have, friend? whence are you? here's no place for you: pray, go to the door. [Exit. Cor. I have deferv'd no better entertainment, in being Coriolanus.

Enter fecond Servant..

[Afide.

2 Ser. Whence are you, Sir? has the porter his eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to fuch companions? pray, get you out.

Cor. Away!

2 Ser. Away?-get you away. Cor. Now thou'rt troublesome.

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

anon.

3

Enter a third Servant.

Ser. What Fellow's this!

The first meets him.

1 Ser. A flrange one as ever I look'd on: I cannot get him out o' th' houfe: pr'ythee, call my Mafter

to him.

3 Serv. What have you to do here, Fellow? pray you, avoid the house.

Cor. Let me but ftand, I will not hurt your hearth... 3 Ser. What are you? Cor. A Gentleman.

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3 Ser. Pray you, poor Gentleman, take up fome other Station, here's no place for you; pray you, avoid

come.

Cor. Follow your function, go and batten on cold

bits.

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3 Ser. What, will you not! pr'ythee, tell my Mafter, what a ftrange Gueft he has here.

2 Ser. And I fhall.

[Exit fecond Serving-man.

3 Ser. Where dwell'ft thou? Cor. Under the Canopy.

3 Ser. Under the Canopy? Cor. Ay.

3 Ser. Where's that?

Cor. I' th' City of Kites and Crows.

3 Ser. I' th' City of Kites and Crows? what an Afs it is! then thou dwell'ft with Daws too? Cor. No, I ferve not thy Mafter.

3 Ser. How, Sir! do you meddle with my Mafter? Cor. Ay, 'tis an honefter fervice, than to meddle with thy Miftrefs: thou prat'ft, and prat'ft; ferve with thy trencher: hence. [Beats him away.

Enter Aufidius with a Serving-man.

Auf. Where is this Fellow?

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

Auf. Whence com'ft thou? what wouldft thou? thy name?

Why speak'ft not? speak, man: what's thy name? Cor. If Tullus, yet thou know'ft me not, and, fee

ing me,

Doft not yet take me for the man I am,
Neceflity commands me name myself.
Auf. What is thy name?

Cor. A name unmufical to Volfcian ears,
And harsh in found to thine.

Auf. Say, what is thy name?

Thou haft a grim appearance, and thy face
Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn,
Thou fhew'ft a noble veffel: what's thy name?

Cor. Prepare thy brow to frown; know'ft thou me
Auf. I know thee not; thy name?

[yet?

Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done

Τα

To thee particularly, and to all the Volfcians,
Great hurt and mifchief; thereto witness may
My Sirname Coriolanus. The painful service,
The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood
Shed for my thankless Country, are requited
But with that Sirname: A good memory,
And witness of the malice and displeasure
Which thou shouldft bear me, only that name re-

mains.

The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our daftard Nobles, who
Have all forfook me, hath devour'd the rest ;
And suffer'd me by th' voice of slaves to be
Hoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth, not out of hope
(Mistake me not) to fave my life; for if

I had fear'd death, of all the men i' th' world'
I'd have avoided thee. But in mere fpite
To be full quit of thofe my Banishers,
Stand I before thee here: then if thou haft

A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge

Thine own particular wrongs, and ftop those maims Of shame feen through thy County, fpeed thee ftraight,

And make my mifery ferve thy Turn: fo ufe it,
That my revengeful fervices 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 fo be

Thou dar'ft not this, and that to prove more fortunes Thou'rt tir'd; then, in a word, I also am

Longer to live moft weary, and prefent

My throat to thee, and to thy ancient malice:
Which not to cut, would fhew thee but a fool,
Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
Drawn tuns of blood out of thy Country's breaft,
And cannot live, but to thy fhame, unless
It be to do thee fervice.

Auf.

Auf. Oh, Marcius, Marcius,

Each word, thou'ft fpoke, hath weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter

Should from yond cloud fpeak to me things divine, And fay, 'tis true; I'd not believe them more

Than thee, all-noble Marcius.

Let me twine

Mine arms about that body, where against
My grained afh an hundred times hath broke,
And scar'd the moon with splinters: here. I clip
The anvil of my fword, and do conteft
As hotly and as nobly with thy love,
As ever in ambitious ftrength I did

Contend againft thy valour. Know thou firft,
I lov'd the Maid I married; never Man
Sigh'd truer breath: but that I fee thee here,
Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart,
Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
Beftride my threshould. 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 lofe my arm for't: thou haft beat me out
Twelve feveral times, and I have nightly fince
Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me:
We have been down together in my fleep,
Unbuckling helms, fifting each other's throat,
And wak'd 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 feventy; and pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,

Like a bold flood o'erbear. O come, go in,
And take our friendly Senators by th' hands,
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd against your Territors,
Though not for Rome itfelf.

Cor. You bless me, Gods!

Auf. Therefore, moft abfolute Sir, if thou wilt

have

The

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