Puslapio vaizdai

Will not have Earth to know.

Bru. Pray let's go.

Vol. Now, pray Sir, get you gone.

You have done a brave deed: E'er you go, hear this:
As far as doth the Capitol exceed

The meanest Houfe in Rome; fo far my Son,
This Lady's Husband here, this (do you fee)
Whom you have Banifh'd, does exceed you all.
Bru. Well, well, we'll leave you.
Sic. Why ftand you to be Baited
With one that wants her Wits?

Vol. Take my Prayers with you.

I wish the Gods had nothing elfe to do,


But to confirm my Curfes. Could I meet 'em
But once a Day it would unclog my Heart
Of what lyes heavy to't.

Men. You have told them home,

And by my troth you have caufe: You'll fup with me?
Vol. Anger's my Meat, I fup upon my self,
And fo fhall ftarve with feeding: Come, let's go,
Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do,
In Anger, Juno-like: Come, come, come.
Fie, fie, fie.

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Enter a Roman and a Volfcie.

Rom. I know you well, Sir, and you know me: Your Name, I think, is Adrian.

Vol. It is fo, Sir: truly I have forgot you.

Rom. I am a Roman, and my Services are as you are against 'em. Know you me yet?

Vol. Nicanor? No.

Rom. The fame, Sir.

Vol. You had more Beard when I laft faw you, but your Favour is well appear'd by your Tongue. What's the News in Rome? I have a Note from the Volfcian State to find you out here. You have well faved me a Day's Journey.

Rom. There hath been in Rome ftrange Infurre&ions: The People againft the Senators, Patricians, and Nobles.

Vol. Hath been! is it ended then? Our State thinks not


fos they are in a moft Warlike Preparation, and hope to come upon them in the heat of their Divifion.

Rom. The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing would make it flame again. For the Nobles receive fo to heart the Banifhmnnt of that worthy Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptnefs, to take all Power from the People, and to pluck from them their Tribunes for ever. This lies glowing I can tell you, and is almoft mature for the violent breaking out.

Vol. Coriolanus Banish'd?

Rom. Banifh'd, Sir.

Vol. You will be welcome with this Intelligence, Ni


Rom. The day ferves well for them now. I have heard it faid, the fittest time to corrupt a Man's Wife, is when The's fallen out with her Husband. Your Noble Tullus Aufidius will appear well in thefe Wars, his great Oppofer Coriolanus being now in no request of his Country.

Vol. He cannot chufe. I am moft fortunate, thus accidentally to encounter you. You have ended my Bufinefs, and I will merrily accompany you home.

Rom. I fhall, between this and Supper, tell you mo Atrange things from Rome; all tending to the good of their Adverfaries. Have you an Army ready, fay you?

Vol. A noft Royal one. The Centurions and their Charges diftinctly billetted already in the entertainment, and to be on foot at an hour's warning.

Rom. I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the Man, I think, that fhall fet them in prefent Action. So, Sir, heart'ly well met, and moft glad of your Company.

Vol. You take my part from me, Sir, I have the most caufe to be glad of yours.

Rom. Well, let us go together.


Enter Coriolanus in mean Apparel, disguis`d and muffled.

Cor. A goodly City is this Antium. City,

'Tis I that made thy Widows: Many an Heir

Of these fair Edifices, for my Wars

Have I heard groan, and drop: Then know me not,
Left that thy Wives with Spits, and Boys with Stones,


puny Battel flay me.

Cit. And you.

Save you, Sir.
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 House

this Night.

Cor. Which is his Houfe, I beseech
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, whofe Bed, whofe Meal and Exercise
Are ftill together; who twine (as 'twere) in Love,
Unfeparable, fhall within this Hour,

On a diffention of a Doit, break out
To bittereft Enmity. So felleft Focs,

Whofe Paffions, and whofe Plots have broke their Sleep
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; upon
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.


SENE III. A Hall in Aufidius's House.

Mufick plays. Enter a Serving-man.

1 Ser. Wine, Wine, Wine! What Service is here? I think our Fellows are afleep.

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Enter another Serving-man.


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

Enter Coriolanus.

Cor. A goodly House;

The Feaft fmells; but I appear 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.

2 Ser. Whence are you,Sir? Has the Porter his Eyes in his Head, that he gives entrance to fuch Companions?

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Cor. Now thou'rt troublefom.

2 Ser. Are you fo brave? I'll have you talk'd with anon. Enter a third Servant. The first meets him.

3 Ser. What Fellow's this?

1 Ser. A ftrange one as ever I look'd on: I cannot get him out o'th' House Prithee 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 Ser. What are you?

Cor. A Gentleman.

3 Ser. A marvellous poor one.

Cor. True; fo I am.

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.

3. Ser. What, you will not? a ftrange Gueft he has here.

2 Ser. And I shall.

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

3 Ser. Where's that?

[Pufes him away from him. Prithee tell my Mafter, what

[Exit fecond Serving-man.

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

3 Ser. I'th' City of Kites and Crows? What an Ass 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 Service, 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.

(Nam ? Auf. Whence com'ft thou? What would't thou? Thy Why speak'ft not? Speak Man: VVhat's thy Name?

Cor. If, Tullus, not yet thou know'ft me, and feeing me, doft not take me for the Man I am, neceffity commands me name my Self.



Auf. What is thy Name?

Cor. A Name unmufical to Volfcians Ears, And harsh in found to thine.

Auf. Say, what's 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 not?
Auf. I know thee not; thy Name?

Cor. My Name is Caius Martius, who hath done
To thee particularly, and to all the Volfcies,
Great Hurt and Mifchief; thereto witness may
My Sirname, Coriolanus. The painful Service,
The extream Dangers, and the drops of Blood
Shed for my thanklefs Country, are requited
But with that Sirname; a good Memory
And witness of the Malice and Displeasure
Which thou could'st bear me; only that Name remains.
The Cruelty and Envy of the People,
Permitted by our daftard Nobles, who
Have all forfook me, hath devour'd the reft;
And fuffer'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 would have voided thee. But in meer 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 stop thofe maims

Of fhame feen through thy Country, fpeed thee ftraight,
And make my mifery ferve thy turn: So use it,
That my revengeful Services may prove

As Benefits to thec. For I will fight

Against my Cankred Country, with the fplen
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 alfo am

Longer to live moft weary, and prefent

My Throat to thee, and to thy ancient Malice :

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