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THIRD SERVANT. O slaves, I can tell you news- news, you rascals! |
BOTH. What, what, what? Let's partake. |
THIRD SERVANT. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; |
I had as lief be a condemn'd man. |
BOTH. Wherefore? wherefore? |
THIRD SERVANT. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general- |
Caius Marcius. |
FIRST SERVANT. Why do you say 'thwack our general'? |
THIRD SERVANT. I do not say 'thwack our general,' but he was always |
good enough for him. |
SECOND SERVANT. Come, we are fellows and friends. He was ever too |
hard for him, I have heard him say so himself. |
FIRST SERVANT. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth |
on't; before Corioli he scotch'd him and notch'd him like a |
carbonado. |
SECOND SERVANT. An he had been cannibally given, he might have |
broil'd and eaten him too. |
FIRST SERVANT. But more of thy news! |
THIRD SERVANT. Why, he is so made on here within as if he were son |
and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' th' 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' 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 entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, |
and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th' ears; he will mow all |
down before him, and leave his passage poll'd. |
SECOND SERVANT. And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. |
THIRD SERVANT. 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 SERVANT. Directitude? What's that? |
THIRD SERVANT. 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 an with him. |
FIRST SERVANT. But when goes this forward? |
THIRD SERVANT. To-morrow, to-day, presently. You shall have the |
drum struck up this afternoon; 'tis as it were parcel of their |
feast, and to be executed ere they wipe their lips. |
SECOND SERVANT. Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. |
This peace is nothing but to rust iron, increase tailors, and |
breed ballad-makers. |
FIRST SERVANT. 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; mull'd, deaf, sleepy, |
insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a |
destroyer of men. |
SECOND SERVANT. '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 SERVANT. Ay, and it makes men hate one another. |
THIRD SERVANT. 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. |
BOTH. In, in, in, in! Exeunt |
SCENE VI. |
Rome. A public place |
Enter the two Tribunes, SICINIUS and BRUTUS |
SICINIUS. We hear not of him, neither need we fear him. |
His remedies are tame. The present peace |
And quietness of the people, which before |
Were in wild hurry, here do make his friends |
Blush that the world goes well; who rather had, |
Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold |
Dissentious numbers pest'ring streets than see |
Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going |
About their functions friendly. |
Enter MENENIUS |
BRUTUS. We stood to't in good time. Is this Menenius? |
SICINIUS. 'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind |
Of late. 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 |
He could have temporiz'd. |
SICINIUS. Where is he, hear you? |
MENENIUS. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife |
Hear nothing from him. |
Enter three or four citizens |
CITIZENS. The gods preserve you both! |
SICINIUS. God-den, our neighbours. |
BRUTUS. God-den to you all, god-den to you an. |
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 lov'd you as we did. |
CITIZENS. Now the gods keep you! |
BOTH TRIBUNES. Farewell, farewell. Exeunt citizens |
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- |
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