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 his hand,1 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 He'll go, he says, and sowle2 the porter of Rome gates by the ears. will mow down all before him, and leave his passage polled.3

He

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, in-. crease tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

1 "Considers the touch of his hand as holy; clasps it with the same reverence as a lover would clasp the hand of his mistress."

2 To sowle is to pull by the ears.

3 i. e. bared, cleared.

4 See Act i. Sc. 1.

5 We should probably read, "This peace is good for nothing but," &c.

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.1 Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a 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. my money. I hope I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volcians. They are rising, they are rising.

All. In, in, in, in.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Rome. A public Place.

Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.

Sic. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; His remedies are tame i' the present peace And quietness o' the people, which before Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends Blush, that the world goes well; who rather had, Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold Dissensious numbers pestering streets, than sce Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going About their functions friendly.

Enter MENENius.

Bru. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius? Sic. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind Of late,-Hail, sir!

Men.

Hail to you both!

Sic. Your Coriolanus, sir, is not much missed,

1 i. e. full of rumor, full of materials for discourse.
2 Mulled is softened, as wine when it is burnt and sweetened.

But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand.
And so would do, were he more angry at it.

Men. All's well; and might have been much better, if
He could have temporized.

Sic.

Where is he, hear you?

Men. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.

Enter three or four Citizens.

Cit. The gods preserve you both!

Sic.

Good e'en, our neighbors.

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 neighbors; we wished Corio

lanus

Had loved you as we did.

Cit.

Now the gods keep you!

Both Tri. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Citizens.
Sic. This is a happier and more comely time,
Than when these fellows ran about the streets,
Crying, Confusion.

Bru.

Caius Marcius was

A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,
O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
Self-loving,

Sic. And affecting one sole throne,
Without assistance.1

Sic. We should by this, to all our lamentation,
If he had gone forth consul, found it so."

Bru. The gods have well prevented it, and Rome
Sits safe and still without him.

1 i. e. he aimed at absolute power; he wanted to sway the state alone. 2 We should surely read, "have found it so."

Enter Edile.

Ed.

Worthy tribunes,

There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
Reports, the Volces with two several powers
Are entered in the Roman territories;
And with the deepest malice of the war
Destroy what lies before them.

Men.

'Tis Aufidius,

Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;

Which were inshelled, when Marcius stood1 for Rome,

And durst not once peep out.

Sic.

Of Marcius?

Come, what talk you

Bru. Go see this rumorer whipped. It cannot be, The Volces dare break with us.

Men.

Cannot be !

We have record that very well it can ;

And three examples of the like have been

Within my age.

2
But reason with the fellow,

Before you punish him, where he heard this;

Lest you should chance to whip your information,
And beat the messenger who bids beware

Of what is to be dreaded.

Mess. The nobles, in great earnestness, are going All to the senate-house; some news is come,

That turns their countenances.

Sic.

'Tis this slave;

Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes;-his raising!
Nothing but his report!

1 i. e. stood up in its defence.

2 To reason with, is to talk with.

3 Changes.