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thy-shakespeare

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Second Servingman: Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon.
Third Servingman: What fellow's this?
First Servingman: A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.
Third Servingman: What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house.
CORIOLANUS: Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.
Third Servingman: What are you?
CORIOLANUS: A gentleman.
Third Servingman: A marvellous poor one.
CORIOLANUS: True, so I am.
Third Servingman: Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come.
CORIOLANUS: Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.
Third Servingman: What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.
Second Servingman: And I shall.
Third Servingman: Where dwellest thou?
CORIOLANUS: Under the canopy.
Third Servingman: Under the canopy!
CORIOLANUS: Ay.
Third Servingman: Where's that?
CORIOLANUS: I' the city of kites and crows.
Third Servingman: I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! Then thou dwellest with daws too?
CORIOLANUS: No, I serve not thy master.
Third Servingman: How, sir! do you meddle with my master?
CORIOLANUS: Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy trencher, hence!
AUFIDIUS: Where is this fellow?
Second Servingman: Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within.
AUFIDIUS: Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name?
CORIOLANUS: If, Tullus, Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not Think me for the man I am, necessity Commands me name myself.
AUFIDIUS: What is thy name?
CORIOLANUS: A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine.
AUFIDIUS: 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?
CORIOLANUS: Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st thou me yet?
AUFIDIUS: I know thee not: thy name?
CORIOLANUS: My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly and to all the Volsces 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 witnes...
AUFIDIUS: O Marcius, Marcius! Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yond cloud speak divine things, And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash an hundred ti...
CORIOLANUS: You bless me, gods!
AUFIDIUS: Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have The leading of thine own revenges, take The one half of my commission; and set down-- As best thou art experienced, 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...
First Servingman: Here's a strange alteration!
Second Servingman: 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.
First Servingman: What an arm he has! he turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
Second Servingman: 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.
First Servingman: He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
Second Servingman: So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest man i' the world.
First Servingman: I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on.
Second Servingman: Who, my master?
First Servingman: Nay, it's no matter for that.
Second Servingman: Worth six on him.
First Servingman: Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the greater soldier.
Second Servingman: Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.
First Servingman: Ay, and for an assault too.
Third Servingman: O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!
First Servingman: What, what, what? let's partake.
Third Servingman: I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lieve be a condemned man.
First Servingman: Wherefore? wherefore?
Third Servingman: Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Marcius.
First Servingman: Why do you say 'thwack our general '?
Third Servingman: I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always good enough for him.
Second Servingman: Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.
First Servingman: He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched him like a carbon ado.
Second Servingman: An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too.
First Servingman: But, more of thy news?
Third Servingman: 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's hand and turns up the white o' the eye to his disco...
Second Servingman: And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.
Third Servingman: 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.
First Servingman: Directitude! what's that?
Third Servingman: 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.
First Servingman: But when goes this forward?
Third Servingman: 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.
Second Servingman: Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
First Servingman: Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a destroyer of men.
Second Servingman: 'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of cuckolds.
First Servingman: Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
Third Servingman: Reason; because they then less need one another. The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising.
All: In, in, in, in!
SICINIUS: We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; His remedies are tame i' the present peace And quietness of 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 Dissentious numbers pestering street...
BRUTUS: We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius?
SICINIUS: 'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.
Both Tribunes: Hail sir!
MENENIUS: Hail to you both!
SICINIUS: Your Coriolanus Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, Were he more angry at it.
MENENIUS: All's well; and might have been much better, if He could have temporized.
SICINIUS: Where is he, hear you?
MENENIUS: Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.
Citizens: The gods preserve you both!
SICINIUS: God-den, our neighbours.
BRUTUS: God-den to you all, god-den to you all.
First Citizen: Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, Are bound to pray for you both.
SICINIUS: Live, and thrive!
BRUTUS: Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus Had loved you as we did.
Citizens: Now the gods keep you!
Both Tribunes: Farewell, farewell.
SICINIUS: This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows ran about the streets, Crying confusion.
BRUTUS: Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving,--
SICINIUS: And affecting one sole throne, Without assistance.
MENENIUS: I think not so.
SICINIUS: We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.
BRUTUS: The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without him.
AEdile: Worthy tribunes, There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, Reports, the Volsces with two several powers Are enter'd in the Roman territories, And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before 'em.
MENENIUS: 'Tis Aufidius, Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, And durst not once peep out.
SICINIUS: Come, what talk you Of Marcius?
BRUTUS: Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be The Volsces dare break with us.