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

Rom. Well, let us go together.

[Exeunt.

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 fpits, and boys with stones,
In puny battle flay me. Save you, Sir.

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 houfe, I beseech you ?

Cit. This, here, before you.

Cor. Thank you, Sir: Farewel.

[Exit Citizen.

Oh, world, thy flippery turns! friends now fast-fworn,

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

Whose 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 slay me,
He does fair justice; if he give me way,
I'll do his Country fervice.

[Exit.

SCENE

SCENE changes to a Hall in Aufidius's

Houfe.

Mufick plays. Enter a Serving-man:

INE, wine, wine! what fervice is here?
I think, our fellows are afleep.

Enter another Serving-man.

[Exit.

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

Cotus.

Enter Coriolanus.

Cor. A goodly houfe; the feaft fmells well; 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.

[Afide.

eyes

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

2 Ser. Away?

get you away.

Cor. Now thou'rt troublesom.

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

anon.

Enter a third Servant. The first meets him.

3 Serv. What Fellow's this?

1 Serv. A ftrange one as ever I look'd on: I cannot get him out o'th' house: pr'ythee, call my Master to him.

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 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. [Pufbes him away from him. 3 Ser. What, will you not? pr'ythee, tell my Master, what a ftrange Gueft he has here.

2 Ser. And I fhall.

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

3 Ser. Under the Canopy? Cor. Ay.

3 Ser. Where's that?

[Exit fecond Serving-man.

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 Master ? Cor. Ay, 'tis an honefter fervice, than to meddle with thy Miftrefs; thou prat'ft, and prat'it; 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? 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

felf.

Auf.

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'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 mischief; thereto witness may
My Sirname Coriolanus. The painful fervice,
The extream 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 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 flaves to be
Hoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth, not out of hope
(Miftake 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 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 stop these maims

Of fhame feen through thy Country, speed thee ftraight,
And make my misery serve thy Turn: so use 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 alfo am

Longer to live most weary, and present

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, unlefs
It be to do thee fervice.

Auf. Oh, Marcius, Marcius,

Each word, thou'ft fpoke, 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 fear'd the moon with fplinters: here I clip
The anvile of my fword, and do contest
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 see thee here,
Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart,
Than when I first my wedded mistress saw

Bestride my threshold. 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 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