The Tragedy of Coriolanus — Act 4 Scene 5

Musicke playes. Enter a Seruingman.

1 Ser.Wine, Wine, Wine: What seruice is heere? Ithinke our Fellowes are asleepe.

Enter another Seruingman.

2 Ser.ExitWhere's Cotus: my M. cals for him: Cotus.

Enter Coriolanus.

Corio.A goodly House:The Feast smels well: but I appeare not like a Guest.

Enter the first Seruingman.

1 Ser.What would you haue Friend? whence are you?Exit.Here's no place for you: pray go to the doore?

Corio.I haue deseru'd no better entertainment, in being Coriolanus.

Enter second Seruant.

2 Ser.Whence are you sir? Ha's the Porter his eyes inhis head, that he giues entrance to such Companions?Pray get you out.

Corio.Away.

2 Ser.Away? Get you away.

Corio.Now th'art troublesome.

2 Ser.Are you so braue: Ile haue you talkt with anon

Enter 3 Seruingman, the 1 meets him.

3What Fellowes this?

1A strange one as euer I look'd on: I cannot get himout o'th'house: Prythee call my Master to him.

3What haue you to do here fellow? Pray you auoidthe house.

Corio.Let me but stand, I will not hurt your Harth.

3What are you?

Corio.A Gentleman.

3A maru'llous poore one.

Corio.True, so I am.

3Pray you poore Gentleman, take vp some other station: Heere's no place for you, pray you auoid: Come.

Corio.Follow your Function, go, and batten on colde bits.Pushes him away from him.

3What you will not? Prythee tell my Maister whata strange Guest he ha's heere.

2Exit second Seruingman.And I shall.

3Where dwel'st thou?

Corio.Vnder the Canopy.

3Vnder the Canopy?

Corio.I.

3Where's that?

Corio.I'th City of Kites and crowes.

3I'th City of Kites and Crowes? What an Asse it is,then thou dwel'st with Dawes too?

Corio.No, I serue not thy Master.

3How sir? Do you meddle with my Master?

Corio.I, tis an honester seruice, then to meddle withthy Mistris: Thou prat'st, and prat'st, serue with thyBeats him awaytrencher: Hence.

Enter Auffidius with the Seruingman.

Auf.Where is this Fellow?

2Here sir, I'de haue beaten him like a dogge, but fordisturbing the Lords within.

Auf.Whence com'st thou? What wouldst yͧ? Thy name?Why speak'st not? Speake man: What's thy name?

Corio.If Tullus not yet thou know'st me, and seeingme, dost not thinke me for the man I am, necessitiecommands me name my selfe.

Auf.What is thy name?

Corio.A name vnmusicall to the Volcians eares,And harsh in sound to thine.

Auf.Say, what's thy name?Thou hast a Grim apparance, and thy FaceBeares a Command in't: Though thy Tackles torne,Thou shew'st a Noble Vessell: What's thy name?

Corio.Prepare thy brow to frowne: knowst yͧ me yet?

Auf.I know thee not? Thy Name?

Corio.My name is Caius Martius, who hath doneTo thee particularly, and to all the VolcesGreat hurt and Mischiefe: thereto witnesse mayMy Surname Coriolanus. The painfull Seruice,The extreme Dangers, and the droppes of BloodShed for my thanklesse Country, are requitted:But with that Surname, a good memorieAnd witnesse of the Malice and DispleasureWhich thou should'st beare me, only that name remains.The Cruelty and Enuy of the people,Permitted by our dastard Nobles, whoHaue all forsooke me, hath deuour'd the rest:And suffer'd me by th'voyce of Slaues to beHoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity,Hath brought me to thy Harth, not out of Hope(Mistake me not) to saue my life: for ifI had fear'd death, of all the Men i'th'WorldI would haue voided thee. But in meere spightTo be full quit of those my Banishers,Stand I before thee heere: Then if thou hastA heart of wreake in thee, that wilt reuengeThine owne particular wrongs, and stop those maimesOf shame seene through thy Country, speed thee straightAnd make my misery serue thy turne: So vse it,That my reuengefull Seruices may proueAs Benefits to thee. For I will fightAgainst my Cankred Countrey, with the SpleeneOf all the vnder Fiends. But if so be,Thou dar'st not this, and that to proue more FortunesTh'art tyr'd, then in a word, I also amLonger to liue most wearie: and presentMy throat to thee, and to thy Ancient Malice:Which not to cut, would shew thee but a Foole,Since I haue euer followed thee with hate,Drawne Tunnes of Blood out of thy Countries brest,And cannot liue but to thy shame, vnlesseIt be to do thee seruice.

Auf.Oh Martius, Martius;Each word thou hast spoke, hath weeded from my heartA roote of Ancient Enuy. If IupiterShould from yond clowd speake diuine things,And say 'tis true; I'de not beleeue them moreThen thee all-Noble Martius. Let me twineMine armes about that body, where againstMy grained Ash an hundred times hath broke,And scarr'd the Moone with splinters: heere I cleepThe Anuile of my Sword, and do contestAs hotly, and as Nobly with thy Loue,As euer in Ambitious strength, I didContend against thy Valour. Know thou first,I lou'd the Maid I married: neuer manSigh'd truer breath. But that I see thee heereThou Noble thing, more dances my rapt heart,Then when I first my wedded Mistris sawBestride my Threshold. Why, thou Mars I tell thee,We haue a Power on foote: and I had purposeOnce more to hew thy Target from thy Brawne,Or loose mine Arme for't: Thou hast beate mee outTwelue seuerall times, and I haue nightly sinceDreamt of encounters 'twixt thy selfe and me:We haue beene downe together in my sleepe,Vnbuckling Helmes, fisting each others Throat,And wak'd halfe dead with nothing. Worthy Martius,Had we no other quarrell else to Rome, but thatThou art thence Banish'd, we would muster allFrom twelue, to seuentie: and powring WarreInto the bowels of vngratefull Rome,Like a bold Flood o're-beate. Oh come, go in,And take our Friendly Senators by'th'handsWho now are heere, taking their leaues of mee,Who am prepar'd against your Territories,Though not for Rome it selfe.

Corio.You blesse me Gods.

Auf.Therefore most absolute Sir, if thou wilt haueThe leading of thine owne Reuenges, takeTh'one halfe of my Commission, and set downeAs best thou art experienc'd, since thou know'stThy Countries strength and weaknesse, thine own waiesWhether to knocke 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 shallSay yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes,And more a Friend, then ere an Enemie,Yet Martius that was much. Your hand: most welcome.Exeunt

Enter two of the Seruingmen.1Heere's a strange alteration?

2By my hand, I had thoght to haue stroken him witha Cudgell, and yet my minde gaue me, his cloathes madea false report of him.

1What an Arme he has, he turn'd me about with hisfinger and his thumbe, as one would set vp a Top.

2Nay, I knew by his face that there was some-thingin him. He had sir, a kinde of face me thought, I cannottell how to tearme it.

1He had so, looking as it were, would I were hang'dbut I thought there was more in him, then I could think.

2So did I, Ile be sworne: He is simply the rarest mani'th'world.

1I thinke he is: but a greater soldier then he,You wot one.

2Who my Master?

1Nay, it's no matter for that.

2Worth six on him.

1Nay not so neither: but I take him to be the greaterSouldiour.

2Faith looke you, one cannot tell how to say that: forthe Defence of a Towne, our Generall is excellent.

1I, and for an assault too.

Enter the third Seruingman.

3Oh Slaues, I can tell you Newes, News you Rascals

Both.What, what, what? Let's partake.

3I would not be a Roman of all Nations; I had asliue be a condemn'd man.

Both.Wherefore? Wherefore?

3Why here's he that was wont to thwacke ourGenerall, Caius Martius.

1Why do you say, thwacke our Generall?

3I do not say thwacke our Generall, but he wasalwayes good enough for him

2Come we are fellowes and friends: he was euer toohard for him, I haue heard him say so himselfe.

1He was too hard for him directly, to say the Trothon't before Corioles, he scotcht him, and notcht him like aCarbinado.

2And hee had bin Cannibally giuen, hee might haueboyld and eaten him too.

1But more of thy Newes.

3Why he is so made on heere within, as if hee wereSon and Heire to Mars, set at vpper end o'th'Table: Noquestion askt him by any of the Senators, but they standbald before him. Our Generall himselfe makes a Mistrisof him, Sanctifies himselfe with's hand, and turnes vp thewhite o'th'eye to his Discourse. But the bottome of theNewes is, our Generall is cut i'th'middle, & but one halfeof what he was yesterday. For the other ha's halfe, bythe intreaty and graunt of the whole Table. Hee'l go hesayes, and sole the Porter of Rome Gates by th'eares. Hewill mowe all downe before him, and leaue his passagepoul'd.

2And he's as like to do't, as any man I can imagine.

3Doo't? he will doo't: for look you sir, he has as manyFriends as Enemies: which Friends sir as it were, durstnot (looke you sir) shew themselues (as we terme it) hisFriends, whilest he's in Directitude.

1Directitude? What's that?

3But when they shall see sir, his Crest vp againe, andthe man in blood, they will out of their Burroughes (likeConies after Raine) and reuell all with him.

1But when goes this forward:

3To morrow, to day, presently, you shall haue theDrum strooke vp this afternoone: 'Tis as it were a parcelof their Feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips.

2Why then wee shall haue a stirring World againe:This peace is nothing, but to rust Iron, encrease Taylors,and breed Ballad-makers.

1Let me haue Warre say I, it exceeds peace as farreas day do's night: It's sprightly walking, audible, and fullof Vent. Peace, is a very Apoplexy, Lethargie, mull'd,deafe, sleepe, insensible, a getter of more bastardChildren, then warres a destroyer of men.

2'Tis so, and as warres in some sort may be saide tobe a Rauisher, so it cannot be denied, but peace is a greatmaker of Cuckolds.

1I, and it makes men hate one another.

3Reason, because they then lesse neede one another:The Warres for my money. I hope to see Romanes ascheape as Volcians. They are rising, they are rising.

Both.Exeunt.In, in, in, in.