[Scene V.]
Muſicke playes. Enter a Seruingman.
1 Ser.
Wine, Wine, Wine: What ſeruice is heere? I
thinke our Fellowes are aſleepe.
Enter another Seruingman.
2 Ser.
Where's Cotus: my M. cals for him: Cotus. Exit
Enter Coriolanus.
Corio.
A goodly Houſe:
The Feaſt ſmels well: but I appeare not like a Gueſt.
Enter the firſt Seruingman.
1 Ser.
What would you haue Friend? whence are you?
Here's no place for you: Pray go to the doore? Exit
Corio.
I haue deſeru'd no better entertainment, in be-
ing Coriolanus. Enter ſecond Seruant.
2 Ser.
Whence are you ſir? Ha's the Porter his eyes in
his head, that he giues entrance to ſuch Companions?
Pray get you out.
Corio.
Away.
2 Ser.
Away? Get you away.
Corio.
Now th'art troubleſome.
2 Ser.
Are you ſo braue: Ile haue you talkt with anon
3 What Fellowes this?
1 A ſtrange one as euer I look'd on<*>: I cannot get him
out o'th'houſe: Prythee call my Maſter to him.
3 What haue you to do here fellow? Pray you auoid
the house.
Corio.
Let me but ſtand, I will not hurt your Harth.
3 What are you?
Corio.
A Gentleman.
3 A maru'llous poore one.
Corio.
True, ſo I am.
3 Pray you poore Gentleman, take vp ſome other ſta-
tion: Heere's no place for you, pray you auoid: Come.
Corio.
Follow your Function, go, and batten on colde
bits. Puſhes him away from him.
3 What you will not? Prythee tell my Maiſter what
a ſtrange Gueſt he ha's heere.
2 And I ſhall. Exit ſecond Seruingman.
3 Where dwel'ſt thou?
Corio.
Vnder the Canopy.
3 Vnder the Canopy?
Corio.
I.
3 Where's that?
Corio.
I'th City of Kites and Crowes.
3 I'th City of Kites and Crowes? What an Aſſe it is,
then thou dwel'ſt with Dawes too?
Corio.
No, I ſerue not thy Maſter.
3 How ſir? Do you meddle with my Maſter?
Corio.
I, tis an honeſter ſeruice, then to meddle with
thy Miſtris: Thou prat'ſt, and prat'ſt, ſerue with thy tren-
cher: Hence. Beats him away
Enter Auffidius with the Seruingman.
Auf.
Where is this Fellow?
2 Here ſir, I'de haue beaten him like a dogge, but for
diſturbing the Lords within.
Auf.
Whence com'ſt thou? What woldſt yu? Thy name?
Why ſpeak'ſt not? Speake man: What's thy name?
Corio.
If Tullus not yet thou know'ſt me, and ſeeing
me, doſt not thinke me for the man I am, neceſſitie com-
mands me name my ſelfe.
Auf.
What is thy name?
Corio.
A name vnmuſicall to the Volcians eares,|
And harſh in ſound to thine.
Auf.
Say, what's thy name?
Thou haſt a Grim apparance, and thy Face
Beares a Command in't: Though thy Tackles torne,
Thou ſhew'ſt a Noble Veſſell: What's thy name?
Corio.
Prepare thy brow to frowne: knowſt yu me yet?
Auf.
I know thee not? Thy Name?
Corio.
My name is Caius Martius, who hath done
To thee particularly, and to all the Volces
Great hurt and Miſchiefe: thereto witneſſe may
My Surname Coriolanus. The painfull Seruice,
The extreme Dangers, and the droppes of Blood
Shed for my thankleſſe Country, are requitted:
But with that Surname, a good memorie
And witneſſe of the Malice and Diſpleaſure
Which thou ſhould'ſt beare me, only that name remains.
The Cruelty and Enuy of the people,
Permitted by our daſtard Nobles, who
Haue all forſooke me, hath deuour'd the reſt:
And ſuffer'd me by th'voyce of Slaues to be
Hoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity,
Hath brought me to thy Harth, not out of Hope
(Miſtake me not) to ſaue my life: for if
I had fear'd death, of all the Men i'th'World
I would haue voided thee. But in meere ſpight
To be full quit of thoſe my Baniſhers,
Stand I before thee heere: Then if thou haſt
A heart of wreake in thee, that wilt reuenge
Thine owne particular wrongs, and ſtop thoſe maimes
Of ſhame ſeene through thy Country, ſpeed thee ſtraight
And make my miſery ſerue thy turne: So vſe it,
That my reuengefull Seruices may proue
As Benefits to thee. For I will fight
Againſt my Cankred Countrey, with the Spleene
Of all the vnder Fiends. But if ſo be,
Thou dar'ſt not this, and that to proue more Fortunes
Th'art tyr'd, then in a word, I alſo am
Longer to liue moſt wearie: and preſent
My throat to thee, and to thy Ancient Malice:
Which not to cut, would ſhew thee but a Foole,
Since I haue euer followed thee with hate,
Drawne Tunnes of Blood out of thy Countries breſt,
And cannot liue but to thy ſhame, vnleſſe
It be to do thee ſeruice.
Auf.
Oh Martius, Martius;
Each word thou haſt ſpoke, hath weeded from my heart
A roote of Ancient Enuy. If Iupiter
Should from yond clowd ſpeake diuine things,
And ſay 'tis true; I'de not beleeue them more
Then thee all-Noble Martius. Let me twine
Mine armes about that body, where againſt
My grained Aſh an hundred times hath broke,
And ſcarr'd the Moone with ſplinters: heere I cleep
The Anuile of my Sword, and do conteſt
As hotly, and as Nobly with thy Loue,
As euer in Ambitious ſtrength, I did
Contend againſt thy Valour. Know thou firſt,
I lou'd the Maid I married: neuer man
Sigh'd truer breath. But that I ſee thee heere
Thou Noble thing, more dances my rapt heart,
Then when I firſt my wedded Miſtris ſaw
Beſtride my Threſhold. Why, thou Mars I tell thee,
We haue a Power on foote: and I had purpoſe
Once more to hew thy Target from thy Brawne,
Or looſe mine Arme for't: Thou haſt beate mee out
Twelue ſeuerall times, and I haue nightly ſince
Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thy ſelfe and me:
We haue beene downe together in my ſleepe,
Vnbuckling Helmes, fiſting each others Throat,
And wak'd halfe dead with nothing. Worthy Martius,
Had we no other quarrell elſe to Rome, but that
Thou art thence Baniſh'd, we would muſter all
From twelue, to ſeuentie: and powring Warre
Into the bowels of vngratefull Rome,
Like a bold Flood o're-beate. Oh come, go in,
And take our Friendly Senators by'th'hands
Who now are heere, taking their leaues of mee,
Who am prepar'd againſt your Territories,
Though not for Rome it ſelfe.
Corio.
You bleſſe me Gods.
Auf.
Therefore moſt abſolute Sir, if thou wilt haue
The leading of thine owne Reuenges, take
Th'one halfe of my Commiſſion, and ſet downe
As beſt thou art experienc'd, ſince thou know'ſt
Thy Countries ſtrength and weakneſſe, thine own waies
Whether to knocke 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, then ere an Enemie,
Yet Martius that was much. Your hand: moſt welcome.
Exeunt
Enter two of the Seruingmen.
1 Heere's a ſtrange alteration?
2 By my hand, I had thoght to haue ſtroken him with
a Cudgell, and yet my minde gaue me, his cloathes made
a falſe report of him.
1 What an Arme he has, he turn'd me about with his
finger and his thumbe, as one would ſet vp a Top.
2 Nay, I knew by his face that there was ſome-thing
in him. He had ſir, a kinde of face me thought, I cannot
tell how to tearme it.
1 He had ſo, looking as it were, would I were hang'd
but I thought there was more in him, then I could think.
2 So did I, Ile be ſworne: He | is ſimply the rareſt man
i'th'world.
1 I thinke he is: but a greater foldier then he,
You wot one.
2 Who my Maſter?
1 Nay, it's no matter for that.
2 Worth ſix on him.
1 Nay not ſo neither: but I take him to be the greater
Souldiour.
2 Faith looke you, one cannot tell how to ſay that: for
the Defence of a Towne, our Generall is excellent.
1 I, and for an aſſault too.
Enter the third Seruingman.
3 Oh Slaues, I can tell you Newes, News you Raſcals
Both.
What, what, what? Let's partake.
3 I would not be a Roman of all Nations; I had as
liue be a condemn'd man.
Both.
Wherefore? Wherefore?
3 Why here's he that was wont to thwacke our Ge-
nerall, Caius Martius.
1 Why do you ſay, thwacke our Generall?
3 I do not ſay thwacke our Generall, but he was al-
wayes good enough for him
2 Come we are fellowes and friends: he was euer too
hard for him, I haue heard him ſay ſo himſelfe.
1 He was too hard for him directly, to ſay the Troth
on't before Corioles, he ſcotcht him, and notcht him like a
Carbinado.
2 And hee had bin Cannibally giuen, hee might haue
boyld and eaten him too.
1 But more of thy Newes.
3 Why he is ſo made on heere within, as if hee were
Son and Heire to Mars, ſet at vpper end o'th'Table: No
queſtion askt him by any of the Senators, but they ſtand
bald before him. Our Generall himſelfe makes a Miſtris
of him, Sanctifies himſelfe with's hand, and turnes vp the
white o'th'eye to his Diſcourſe. But the bottome of the
Newes is, our Generall is cut i'th'middle, & but one halfe
of what he was yeſterdav. For the other ha's halfe, by
the intreaty and graunt of the whole Table. Hee'l go he
ſayes, and ſole the Porter of Rome Gates by th'eares. He
will mowe all downe before him, and leaue his paſſage
poul'd.
2 And he's as like to do't, as any man I can imagine.
3 Doo't? he will doo't: for look you ſir, he has as ma-
ny Friends as Enemies: which Friends ſir as it were, durſt
not (looke you ſir) ſhew themſelues (as we terme it) his
Friends, whileſt he's in Directitude.
1 Directitude? What's that?
3 But when they ſhall ſee ſir, his Creſt vp againe, and
the man in blood, they will out of their Burroughes (like
Conies after Raine) and reuell all with him.
1 But when goes this forward:
3 To morrow, to day, preſently, you ſhall haue the
Drum ſtrooke vp this afternoone: 'Tis as it were a parcel
of their Feaſt, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.
2 Why then wee ſhall haue a ſtirring World againe:
This peace is nothing, but to ruſt Iron, |encreaſe Taylors,
and breed Ballad-makers.
1 Let me haue Warre ſay I, it exceeds peace as farre
as day do's night: It's ſprightly walking, audible, and full
of Vent. Peace, is a very Apoplexy, Lethargie, mull'd,
deafe, ſleepe, inſensible, a getter of more baſtard Chil-
dren, then warres a deſtroyer of men.
2 'Tis ſo, and as warres in ſome ſort may be ſaide to
be a Rauiſher, ſo it cannot be denied, but peace is a great
maker of Cuckolds.
1 I, and it makes men hate one another.
3 Reaſon, becauſe they then leſſe neede one another:
The Warres for my money. I hope to ſee Romanes as
cheape as Volcians. They are riſing, they are riſing.
Both.
In, in, in, in. Exeunt