The leading of thy own revenges, take To fright them, ere deftroy. But come, come in: welcome. SCENE -Your hand; moft Enter two Servants. TERE's a ftrange alteration: [Exeunt. V. 1 Ser. 2 Ser. By my hand, I had thought to have ftrucken him with a cudgel, and yet my mind gave me, his clothes made a falfe report of him. 1 Ser. What an arm he has! he turn'd me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would fet up. a top. 2 Ser. Nay, I know by his face that there was fomething in him. He had, Sir, a kind of face, methought I cannot tell how to term it. 1 Ser. He had fo: looking as it were 'would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think. 2 Ser. So did I, I'll be fworn: he is fimply the rareft man i'th' world. 1 Ser. I think, he is; but a greater Soldier than he, you wot one. 2 Ser. Who, my mafter? 1 Ser. Nay, it's no matter for that. 2 Ser. Worth fix on him. 1 Ser. Nay, not fo neither; but I take him to be the greater Soldier. 2 Ser. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that; for the defence of a Town, our General is excellent. 1 Ser. Ay, and for an assault too. Enter a third Servant. 3 Ser. Oh, flaves, I can tell you news; news, you rafcals. Both. What, what, what? let's partake. 3 Ser. I would not be a Roman, of all nations: I had as lieve be a condemn'd man. Both. Wherefore? wherefore? 3 Ser Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our General, Caius Marcius. 1 Ser. Why do you fay, thwack our General? 3 Ser. I do not fay, thwack our General; but he was always good enough for him. 2 Ser. Come, we are fellows and friends; he was ever too hard forhim, I have heard him say so himself. 1 Ser. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on't before Corioli, he scotcht him and nocht him like a carbonado. 2 Ser. And, had he been cannibally given, he might have broil'd and eaten him too. Ser. But, more of thy news; 3 Ser. Why, he is fo made on here within, as if he were Son and Heir to Mars: fet at upper end o'th' table; no queftion afk'd him by any of the Senators, but they ftand bald before him. Our General himself makes a Mistress of him, fanctifies himself with's hands, and turns up the white o'th' eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our General is cut i'th' middle, and but one half of what he was yesterday. For the Other has half, by the Intreaty and Grant of the whole table. He'll go, he fays, and, fowl the porter of Rome gates by th' ears. He will mow down all before him, and leave his paffage poll'd. 2 Ser. And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. 3 Ser 3 Ser. Do't! he will do't: for, look you, Sir, he has as many friends as enemies; which friends, Sir, as it were, durft not (look you, Sir) fhew themselves (as we term it) his friends, whilft he's in directitude. 1 Ser. Directitude! what's that? 3 Ser. But when they fhall fee, Sir, his Creft up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their burroughs (like conies after rain) and revel all with him. Ser. But when goes this forward? 3 Ser. To-morrow, to-day, prefently, you shall have the drum ftruck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a parcel of their feaft, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips. 2 Ser. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again: this peace is worth nothing, but to ruft iron, encreafe tailors, and breed ballad-makers. 1 Ser. Let me have war, fay I; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night; it's fprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy, mull'd, deaf, fleepy, infenfible, a getter of more baftard children than war's a deftroyer of men. 2 Ser. 'Tis fo; and as war in fome fort may be faid to be a ravisher, fo it cannot be denied, but peace is a great maker of cuckolds. Ser. Ay, and it makes men hate one another. 3 Ser. Reason; because they then less need one another: the war, for my money. I hope, to fee Romans as cheap as Volfcians. They are rifing, they are rifing. Sic. Both. In, in, in, in. SCENE [Exeunt. VI. A public Place in ROME. Enter Sicinius and Brutus. WE hear not of him, neither need we fear His remedies are tame i'th' present peace, And And quietnefs o'th' People, which before Enter Menenius. Bru. We ftood to't in good time. Is this Menenius? Sic. 'Tis he, 'tis he: O he is grown moft kind of late. Hail, Sir! Men. Hail to you both! Sic. Your Coriolanus is not much mifs'd, but with his Friends; the Commonwealth doth ftand, and fo would do, were he more angry at it. Men. All's well, and might have been much better, if he could have temporiz'd. 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. All. The Gods preserve you both! Sic. Good-e'en, neighbours. Bru. Good-e'en to you all, good-e'en to you all. 1 Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our Are bound to pray for you both. Sic. Live and thrive! Bru. Farewel, kind neighbours : [knees, We wish'd Coriolanus had lov'd you, as we did. Both Tri. Farewel, farewel. [Exeunt Citizens.. Sic. This is a happier and more comely time, Than when thefe follows ran about the streets, Crying confufion. Bru. Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i'th' war, but infolent, O'ercome O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving. Sic. And affecting one fole Throne, Without Affiftance. Men. Nay, I think not fo. Sic. We had by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth Conful, found it fo. Bru. The Gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits fafe and ftill without him. Enter Edile. Edile. Worthy Tribunes, There is a flave, whom we have put in prifon, Men. 'Tis Aufidius, Who, hearing of our Marcius' Banifhment, Sic. Come, what talk you of Marcius! Bru. Go fee this rumourer whipt. It cannot be, The Volfcians 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. But reafon with the fellow Before you punish him, where he heard this; Left you fhould chance to whip your information, And beat the meffenger, who bids beware Of what is to be dreaded. Sic. Tell not me: I know, this cannot be. Bru. Not poffible.. Enter a Meffenger. Mef. The Nobles in great earneftness are going All to the Senate-houfe; fome news is come, That |
