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fo; they are in a moft Warlike Preparation, and hope to come upon them in the heat of their Divifion.


Rom. The main blaze of it is paft, but a small thing would make it flame again. For the Nobles receive fo to heart the Banishment of that worthy Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptnefs, to take all Power from the People, and to pluck from them their Tribunes for ever. This lies glowing I can tell you, and is almoft mature for the violent breaking out.

Vol. Coriolanus Banifh'd?

Rom. Banifh'd, Sir.

Vol. You will be welcome with this Intelligence, Ni


Rom. The day ferves well for them now. I have heard it faid, the fittest time to corrupt a Man's Wife, is when fhe's fallen out with her Husband. Your Noble Tullus Aufidius will appear well in thefe Wars, his great Oppoter Coriolanus being now in no request of his Country.

Vol. He cannot chufe. I am moft fortunate, thus accidentally to encounter you. You have ended my Bufinefs, and I will merrily accompany you home.

Rom. I fhall between this and Supper, tell you most ftrange things from Rome; all tending to the good of their Adverfaries. Have you an Army ready, fay you?

Vol. A moft Royal one. The Centurious and their Charges diftin&tly billetted already in the Entertainment, and to be on foot at an hour's warning.

Rom. I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the Man, I think, that shall fet them in prefent Action. So, Sir, heart'ly well met, and moft glad of your Company. Vol. You take my part from me, Sir, I have the most caufe to be glad of yours.

Rom. Well, let us go together.


Enter Coriolanus in mean Apparel, difguis'd and muffled. Cor. A goodly City is this Antium. City,

"Tis I that made thy Widows: Many an Heir

Of thefe fair Edifices, for my Wars

Have I heard groan, and drop: Then know me not,
Left that thy Wives with Spits, and Boys with Stones,

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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 House

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 faft fworn,
Whofe double Bofoms feem to wear one Heart,

Whofe Hours, whofe Bed, whofe Meal and Exercife
Are ftill together; who twine (as 'twere) in Love
Unfeparable, fhall within this Hour,

On a diffention of a Doit, break out
To bittereft Enmity. So felleft Foes,

Whofe Paffions, and whofe Plots have broke their Sleep
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; upon
This Enemy's Town I'll enter; if he flay me,
He does fair Juftice: If he give me way,
I'll do his Country Service.


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Mufick plays. Enter a Serving-man.

1 Ser. Wine, Wine, Wine! What Service is here? I think our Fellows are afleep.

[Exit. 2 Ser. Where's Cotus? My Mafter calls for him: Cotus.

Enter another Serving-man.

Enter Coriolanus.

Cor. A goodly House;

The Feaft (mells; but I appear not like a Guest.

Enter the firft Serving-man.


I 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.

2 Ser. Whence are you, Sir? Has the Porter his Eyes in his Head, that he gives entrance to fuch Companions?

Pray get you out.

Cor. Away!.

2 Ser. Away: Get you away.


Cor. Now thou'rt troublesom,

2 Ser. Are you fo brave? I'll have you talk'd with anon. Enter a third Servant. The first meets him.

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I Ser. A ftrange one as ever I look'd on: I cannot get him out o'th' House: Prithee call my Master to him.

3 Ser. What have you to do here, Fellow? Pray you avoid the Houfe.

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, you will not? Prithee tell my Mafter, what a ftrange Guest 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 Ass 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 Mafter? Cor. Ay, 'tis an honefter Service, than to meddle with thy Mistress: Thou prat'ft, and prat'ft; 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.

(Name ? Auf. Whence com'ft thou? What would'ft thou? Thy Why speak ft not? Speak Man: What's thy Name?

Cor. If, Tullus, not yet thou know'ft me, and feeing me, dot not take me for the Man. I am, neceffity commands me name my Self.



Auf. What is thy Name?

Cor. A Name unmufical to Volfcians Ears, And arth in found to thine.

Auf. Say, what's 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'ft thou me not?
Auf. I know thee not; thy Name?

Cor. My Name is Caius Martius, who hath done
To thee particularly, and to all the Volfcies,
Great Hurt and Mischief; thereto witness may
My Sirname, Coriolanus. The painful Service,
The extream Dangers, and the drops of Blood
Shed for my thanklefs Country, are requited
But with that Sirname; a good Memory
And witness of the Malice and Displeasure
Which thou could't 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 Slaves 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 D'ath, of all the Men i'th' World
I would have avoided thee. But in meer spite
To be full quit of thofe 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 ftop thofe maims

Of shame feen through thy Country, fpeed thee ftraight,

And make my mifery ferve thy turn: So use it,

That my revengeful Services may prove

As Benefits to thee. For I will fight

Against my Cankred 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 molt weary, and prefent

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 Breaft,
And cannot live, but to thy Shame, unless
It be to do thee Service.

Auf. Oh, Martius, Martius,

Each word thou haft fpoke, hath weeded from my Heart A root of ancient Envy. If Jupiter

Should from yon Cloud fpeak Divine things,

And fay, 'tis true; I'd not believe them more
Than thee, all-noble Martius.

Let me twine

Mine Arms about that Body, where against
My grained Afh an hundred times hath broke,
And fear'd the Moon with Splinters; here I cleep
The Anvile of my Sword, and do conteft
As hotly and as nobly with thy Love,
•As ever in ambitious Strength, 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 fee thee here,
Thou Noble thing, more dances my rapt Heart,
Than when I firft my wedded Mistress faw
Beftride 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 lose mine Arm for't: Thou haft bear me out
Twelve several times, and I have nightly fince
Dream't of Encounters 'twixt thy felf and me:
We have been down together in my Sleep,
Unbuckling Helms, fifting each others Throat,
And wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Martius,
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'er-bear. Oh come, go in,
And take our Friendly Senators by th' Hands,
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd against your Territories,
Though not for Rome it felf.

Ff 4


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