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come.

3 Ser. 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. 3 Serv. A marvellous poor one. Cor. True ; so I am. 3Ser. Pray you, poor Gentleman, take up fome other Station, here's no place for you ; pray you, avoid :

Cor. Follow your function, go and batten on cold bits.

[Pufbes bim away from him. 3 Ser. What, will you not? pr'ythee, tell my Mafter, what a strange Guest he has here.

2 Ser. And I shall. [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 Ass it is ! then thou dwell'st with Daws too?

Cor. No, I serve not thy Master. 3 Ser. How, Sir! do you meddle with my Master ?

Cor. Ay, 'cis an honefter service, than to meddle with thy Mistress : thou prat't, and prat'ft ; ferve with thy trencher : hence.

[Beats bim 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'lt thou ? what wouldst thou? thy

name ? Why speak'st not ? speak, man : what's thy name?

Cor. If, Tullus, yet thou know'st me not, and, fee

ing me, Doft not yet take me for the man I am, Neceflity commands me name my self.

Auf

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Auf. What is thy name?

Cór. A name unmusical tọ Volscian cars,
And harsh in found to thine.

Auf. Say, what is 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'it 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 Polfcians,
Great hurt and mischief ; 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 displeafure
Which thou shouldīt bear me, only that name remains.
The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our daftard Nobles, who
Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rett ;
And suffer'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

for if
Ì 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 those 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 Name seen through thy Country, speed thee ftraight,
And make my misery serve thy Turn : fo 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 dar'st 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 present

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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 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 afh an hundred times hath broke,
And scar'd the moon with splinters : here I clip
The anvile 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 lov'd 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 firit my wedded mistress law
Bettride my threlhold. 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 my arm for’t : thou haft beat me out
Twelve feveral times, and I have nightly since
Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thy felf and me :
We have been down together in my sleep,
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 seventy ; 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

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Though not for Rome it self.

Cor. You bless me, Gods !

Auf. Therefore, most absolute Sir, if thou wilt have
The leading of thy own revenges, take
One half of my Commission, and set down
As best thou art experienc'd, fince thou know'ft
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, come in;
Let me commend the 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 ; moft
welcome!

[Exeunt.

Enter two Servants.

1 Ser. Here's a strange alteration.

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 false report of him.

i Ser. What an arm he has ! he turn'd me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set 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.

i 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 sworn : he is fimply the rareft man i'th' world.

I Ser. I think, he is; but a greater Soldier than he, you wot one.

2 Ser. Who, my Master?
i Ser. Nay, it's no matter for that.
2 Ser. Worth fix on him.

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Ser,

1 Ser. Nay, not so 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.

I Ser. Ay, and for an assault too.

Enter a third Servant.

3 Ser. Oh, llaves, I can tell you news ; news, you rascals.

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.

i Ser. Why do you say, thwack our General ?

3 Ser. I do not say, 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 himself.

i Ser. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on't: before Corioli, he scotcht 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 : set at upper end o’th' 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 hands, ard turns up the white o’th’eye to his discourse. 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 says, and fowle the porter of Rome VOL. VI.

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