On a dissension of a doit, break out Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep shall grow dear friends, To take the one the other, by some chance, The same. SCENE V. A Hall in Aufidius's House. Musick within. Enter a Servant. [Exit. 1 Serv. Wine, wine, wine! What service is here! I think our fellows are asleep. Enter another Servant. [Exit. 2 Serv. Where's Cotus! my master calls for him. Cotus! Enter CORIOLANUS. [Exit. Cor. A goodly house: The feast smells well: but I Appear not like a guest. Re-enter the first Servant. 1 Serv. What would you have, friend? Whence are you? Here's no place for door. you: Pray, , go to the Cor. I have deserv'd no better entertainment, In being Coriolanus 1. 1 i. e. in having derived that surname from the sack of Corioli. Re-enter second Servant. 2 Serv. Whence are you, sir? Has the porter eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such companions? Pray, get you out. his Cor. Away! 2 Serv. Away? Get you away. Cor. Now thou art troublesome. 2 Serv. Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. Enter a third Servant. The first meets him. 3 Serv. What fellow's this? 1 Serv. A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out o'the house: Pr'ythee, call my master to him. 3 Serv. What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house. Cor. Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth. 3 Serv. What are you ? Cor. A gentleman. 3 Serv. A marvellous poor one. Cor. True, so I am. 3 Serv. Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come. Cor. Follow your function, go! And batten 2 on cold bits. [Pushes him away. 3 Serv. What, will you not? Pr'ythee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here. 2 Serv. And I shall. 3 Serv. Where dwellest thou? Cor. Under the canopy. 3 Serv. Under the canopy? [Exit. 2 Feed. Cor. Ay. 3 Serv. Where's that? Cor. I' the city of kites and crows. 3 Serv. I' the city of kites and crows?-What an ass it is! Then thou dwellest with daws too? Cor. No, I serve not thy master. 3 Serv. How, sir! Do you meddle with my master? Cor. Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress: Thou prat'st, and prat'st; serve with thy trencher, [Beats him away. hence! Enter AUFIDIUS and the second Servant. Auf. Where is this fellow? 2 Serv. Here, sir; I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within. Auf. Whence comest thou? what wouldest thou? Why speak'st not? Speak, man: What's thy name? Commands me name myself. Auf. What is thy name? [Servants retire. Cor. A name unmusical to the Volcians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. Auf. 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? Cor. Prepare thy brow to frown: Know'st thou me yet? Auf. I know thee not:-Thy name? Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly, and to all the Volces, Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may The cruelty and envy of the people, 3 Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast 5 Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those maims Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight, And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it, As benefits to thee; for I will fight Against my canker'd country with the spleen Of all the under fiends. But if so be Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes 3 Memory for memorial. See vol. iii. p. 133, note 1. 4 Wreak is an old term for revenge. So in Titus Andronicus: Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude.' i. e. disgraceful diminutions of territory. Which not to cut, would show thee but a fool; It be to do thee service. Auf. O, Marcius, Marcius, Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say, Mine arms about that body, where against Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, 6 To clip is to embrace. He calls Coriolanus the anvil of his sword, because he had formerly laid as heavy blows on him as a smith strikes on his anvil. Thus in Hamlet: And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall On Mars's armour With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword 7 Shakspeare was unaware that a Roman bride, on her entry into her husband's house, was prohibited from bestriding his threshold; and that, lest she should even touch it, she was always lifted over it. Thus Lucan, lib. ii. 359: Tralata vetuit contingere limine planta.' Steevens. |