Re-enter second Servant.

2 Serv. Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such com panions? Pray, get you out.

Cor. Away!

2 Serv. Away? Get you away.

Cor. Now thou art troublesome.

2 Serv. Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon.

Enter a third Servant. The first meets him.

3 Serv. What fellow's this?

1 Serv. A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out o'the 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 stand; I will not hurt your hearth.

3 Serv. What are you?

Cor. A gentleman.

3 Serv. A marvellous poor one.

Cor. True, so I am.

3 Serv. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come.

Cor. Follow your function, go!

And battent on cold bits.

[Pushes him away.

3 Serv. What, will you not? Pr'ythee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.

2 Sero. And I shall.

3 Serv. Where dwellest thou?

Cor. Under the canopy.

3 Serv. Under the canopy?

Cor. Ay.

[Exit.

3 Sero. Where's that?

Cor. I' the city of kites and crows.

3 Serv. I'the city of kites and crows?-What an ass it is !-Then thou dwellest with daws too? Cor. No, I serve not thy master.

3 Serv. How, sir! Do you meddle with my ma ster?

Cor. Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress:

Thou prat'st, and prat'st; serve with thy trencher, [Beats him away.

hence!

Enter Aufidius and the second Servant.

Auf. Where is this fellow?

2 Serv. Here, sir; I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within.

Auf. Whence comest thou? what wouldest thou? Thy name?

Cor.

Why speak'st not? Speak, man: What's thy name? If, Tullus, [Unmuffling. Not yet thou know'st me, and seeing me, dost not Think me for the man I am, necessity

Commands me name myself.

Auf.

What is thy name?

[Servants retire.

Cor. A uame unmusical to the Volcians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. Auf. Say, what's thy name? Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn, Thou show'st a noble vessel: 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 Volces, Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may My surname, Coriolanus: The painful service, The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood

Shed for my thankless country, are requited
But with that surname; a good memory*,
And witness of the malice and displeasure
Which thou should'st bear me: only that name re
mains;

The cruelty and envy of the people,

Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
And suffered me by the voice of slaves to be
Whoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity
Hath brought me to thy hearth; Not out of hope,
Mistake me not, to save my life; for if

I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world
I would have 'voided thee: but in mere spite,
To be full quit of those my banishers,

Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
A heart of wreakt in thee, that will revenge

Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those maims Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight,

And make my misery serve thy turn; so 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 underý fiends. But if so be

Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes
Thou art tir'd, then, in a word, I also am
Longer to live most weary, and present
My throat to thee, and to thy ancient malice:
Which not to cut, would show thee but a fool;
Since I have ever tollow'd thee with hate,
Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
It be to do thee service.

A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter

Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say,
'Tis true; I'd not believe them more than thee,
All-noble Marcius.-O, let me twine

Mine arms about that body, where against
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke,
And scar'd the moon with splinters! Here I clip*
The anvil 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 loved 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 brawnt,
Or lose mine arm for't: Thou hast beat me out
Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me;
We have been down together in my sleep,
Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy; and, pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,

Like a bold flood o'er-beat. O, come, go in,
And take our friendly senators by the hands;
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd against your territories,
Though not for Rome itself.

Cor.

You bless me, Gods! Auf. Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have

The leading of thine own revenges, take

The one half of my commission; and set down,

* Embrace. † Arm.

Full. Years of age.

As best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'st 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 in:
Let me commend thee 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! Most welcome!

[Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. 1 Serv. [Advancing.] Here's a strange alteration! 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.

'Would

1 Serv. He had so: looking as it were, 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.

* Know.