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Or lose mine arm for't: Thou hast beat me out
Cor. You bless me, gods!
Auf. Therefore, most absolute Sir, if thou wilt have
Thy country's strength and weakness, thine own ways:
To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:
2 Serv. By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me, his clothes made a false report of him.
1 Serv. What an arm he has! He turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
2 Serv. Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in him: He had, Sir, a kind of face, methought,-I cannot tell how to term it.
1 Serv. He had so: looking as it were, 'Would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
2 Serv. So did I, I'll be sworn: He is simply the rarest man i' the world.
1 Serv. I think, he is: but a greater soldier than he, you wot one. 2 Serv. Who? my master?
1 Serv. Nay, it's no matter for that.
2 Serv. Worth six of him.
1 Serv. Nay, not so neither; but I take him to be the greater soldier.
2 Serv. 'Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that; for
the defence of a town, our general is excellent.
1 Serv. Ay, and for an assault too.
Re-enter third SERVANT.
3 Serv. O, slaves, I can tell you news; news, you rascals.
1, 2 Serv. What, what, what? let's partake.
3 Serv. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lieve be a condemned man.
1, 2 Serv. Wherefore? wherefore ?
3 Serv. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general,Caius Marcius.
1 Serv. Why do you say thwack our general?
3 Serv. I do not say, thwack our general; but he was always good enough for him.
2 Serv. Come, we are fellows, and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.
1 Serv. He was too hard for him directly, to say the truth on't: before Corioli, he scotched him and notched him like a carbonado.* 2 Serv. An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too.
1 Serv. But, more of thy news?
3 Serv. Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son and heir to Mars: set at upper end o' the table: no question asked him by any of the senators, but they stand bald before him: Our general himself makes a mistress of him; sanctifies himself with's hand, and turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i' the middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, and sowlet the porter of Rome gates by the ears: He will mow down all before him, and leave his passage polled. I
2 Serv. And he's as like to do't, as any man I can imagine. 3 Serv. Do't? he will do't: For, look you, Sir, he has as many friends as enemies: which friends, Sir (as it were), durst not (look you, Sir) show themselves (as we term it) his friends, whilst he's in directitude.
1 Serv. Directitude! what's that?
3 Serv. But when they shall see, Sir, his crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with him.
1 Serv. But when goes this forward?
3 Serv. To-morrow, to-day, presently. You shall have the drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis as it were, a parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.
2 Serv. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
1 Serv. Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night; it's sprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, § deaf, sleepy, insensible; getter of more bastard children, than war's a destroyer of men. 2 Serv. 'Tis so: and as wars, in some sort may be said to be a ravisher; so it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.
1 Serv. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
3 Serv. Reason; because they then less need one another. The wars, for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volcians. They are rising, they are rising.
All. In, in, in, in.
SCENE VI-Rome. A public place.
*Meat cut across to be broiled. + Pull.
+ Cleared. § Softened.
And quietness o' the people, which before
Bru. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?
Men. Hail to you both!
Sic. Your Coriolanus, Sir, is not much miss'd,
Men. All's well; and might have been much better, if
Sic. Where is he, hear you?
Men. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife
Enter three or four CITIZENS.
Cit. The gods preserve you both.
Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all.
1 Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, Are bound to pray for you both.
Sic. Live, and thrive!
Bru. Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus
Cit. Now the gods keep you!
Both Tri. Farewell, farewell.
Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,
Bru. Caius Marcius was
A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,
Sic. And affecting one sole throne,
Men. I think not so.
Sic. We should by this, to all our lamentation,
Bru. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome
Ed. Worthy tribunes,
There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
Men. "Tis Aufidius,
Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
Which were inshell'd, when Marcius stood for Rome, And durst not once peep out.
Sic. Come, what talk you
Of Marcius ?
Bru. Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be, The Volces dare break with us.
Men. Cannot be !
We have record, that very well it can;
Sic. Tell not me:
I know this cannot be.
Enter a MESSENGER.
Mess. The nobles, in great earnestness, are going
Sic. 'Tis this slave;
Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes :-his raising!
Mess. Yes, worthy Sir,
The slave's report is seconded; and more,
Sic. What more fearful?
Mess. It is spoke freely out of many mouths
Sic. This is most likely !
Bru. Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish
Sic. The very trick on't.
He and Aufidius can no more atone, *
Enter another MESSENGER.
Mess. You are sent for to the senate:
Com. O, you have made good work!
Com. You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and
To melt the city leads upon your pates;
To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses;
Men. What's the news? what's the news?
* Be reconciled.
Com. Your temples burn'd in their cement; and
Men. Pray now, your news?
You have made fair work, 1 fear me:-Pray, your news?
He is their god; he leads them like a thing
Men. You have made good work,
You, and your apron men; you that stood so much
Com. He will shake
Your Rome about your ears.
Men. As Hercules
Did shake down mellow fruit: You have made fair work!
Com. Ay; and you'll look pale
Before you find it other. All the regions
Do smilingly revolt; and, who resist,
Are only mock'd for valiant ignorance,
And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?
Men. We are all undone, unless
The noble man have mercy.
Com. Who shall ask it?
The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people
Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they
Men. 'Tis true:
If he were putting to my house the brand
To say, 'Beseech you, cease.-You have made fair hands,
Com. You have brought
A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
Tri. Say not, we brought it.
Men. How! Was it we? We loved him; but, like beasts,
Com. But, I fear,
They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,