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

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

Cor. A Gentleman.

3 Serv. A marvellous poor one.

Cor. True; fo I am.

3Ser. 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. [Pufbes him away from him. 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 Serv. Where dwell'st thou ? Cor. Under the Canopy.

3 Serv. Under the Canopy? Cor. Ay.

3 Serv. Where's that?

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

3 Serv. 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 Mistress: 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 wouldst thou? thy

name?

Why fpeak'it not? fpeak, 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,
Neceffity commands me name my self.

Auf

Auf. What is thy name?

Cor. A name unmufical to Volscian ears, And harfh 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'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 Volfcians,
Great hurt and mifchief; thereto witness may
My Sirname Coriolanus. The painful fervice,
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 difpleafure
Which thou fhouldft bear me, only that name remains.
The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard Nobles, who
Have all forfook me, hath devour'd the rest
And fuffer'd me by th' voice of flaves 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 meer spite
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 thofe maims
Of shame feen through thy Country, 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

Againft 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 alfo am

Longer to live moft weary, and prefent

My

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 breast,
And cannot live, but to thy fhame, unless
It be to do thee fervice.

Auf. Oh, Marcius, Marcius,

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

Should from yon 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 ash an hundred times hath broke,
And fcar'd the moon with fplinters: here I clip
The anvile of my fword, and do conteft
As hotly and as nobly with thy love,
As ever in ambitious ftrength I did
Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
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 firit my wedded mistress saw
Beftride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee,
We have a Power on foot; and I had purpofe
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 thy felf 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 elfe to Rome, but that

Thou art thence banish'd, we would mufter 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 Territories,

Though

Though not for Rome it felf.

Cor. You blefs me, Gods!

Auf. Therefore, most absolute Sir, if thou wilt have The leading of thy own revenges, take

One half of my Commiffion, and fet down

As best thou art experienc'd, fince thou know'ft
Thy Country's ftrength and weakness, thine own

ways;

Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
Or rudely vifit them in parts remote,

To fright them, ere deftroy. But come, come in;
Let me commend thee first to those, that shall

Say yea to thy defires. A thousand welcomes !
And more a friend, than e'er an enemy:
Yet, Marcius, that was much.

welcome!

Enter two Servants.

1 Ser. Here's a strange alteration.

Your hand; most

[Exeunt.

2 Ser. By my hand, I had thought to have ftrucken him with a cudgel, and yet my mind gave me, his clothes made a falfe report of him.

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

2 Ser. Nay, I knew by his face that there was fomething in him. He had, Sir, a kind of face, methoughtI cannot tell how to term it.

1 Ser. He had fo: looking, as it were -'would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

2 Ser. So did I, I'll be fworn: he is fimply the rareft man i'th' world.

1 Ser. I think, he is; but a greater Soldier than he,

you wot one.

2 Ser. Who, my Master?

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

2 Ser. Worth fix on him.

* Ser.

1 Ser. Nay, not fo neither; but I take him to be the 'greater Soldier.

2 Ser. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that; for the defence of a Town, our General is excellent.

3

1 Ser. Ay, and for an affault too.

Enter a third Servant.

Ser. Oh, flaves, I can tell you news; news, you rafcals.

Both. What, what, what? let's partake.

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

Both. Wherefore? wherefore?

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

1 Ser. Why do you fay, thwack our General ?

3 Ser. I do not fay, thwack our General; but he was always good enough for him.

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

1 Ser. He was too hard for him directly, to fay the troth on't before Corioli, he fcotcht him and notcht him like a carbonado.

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

I Ser. But, more of thy news;

3 Ser. Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were Son and Heir to Mars: fet at upper end o'th' table; no queftion ask'd him by any of the Senators, but they ftand bald before him. Our General himself makes a Mistress of him, fanctifies himself with's hands, and turns up the white o'th' eye to his difcourfe. But the bottom of the news is, our General is cut i'th' middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday. For the Other has half, by the Intreaty and Grant of the whole table. He'll go, he fays, and fowle the porter of Rome VOL. VI. T

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