ACT IV - Scene V Coriolanus

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The same. A hall in Aufidius’s house.

	Music within. Enter a Servingman.
First Servingman	Wine, wine, wine! What service is here! I think our fellows are asleep. Exit.
	Enter a Second Servingman.
Second Servingman	Where’s Cotus? my master calls for him. Cotus! Exit.
	Enter Coriolanus.
Coriolanus	A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I Appear not like a guest.
	Reenter the First Servingman.
First Servingman	What would you have, friend? whence are you? Here’s no place for you: pray, go to the door. Exit.
Coriolanus	I have deserved no better entertainment, In being Coriolanus.
	Reenter Second Servingman.
Second Servingman	Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such companions? Pray, get you out.
Coriolanus	Away!
Second Servingman	Away! get you away.
Coriolanus	Now thou’rt troublesome.
Second Servingman	Are you so brave? I’ll have you talked with anon.
	Enter a Third Servingman. The First* meets him.*
Third Servingman	What fellow’s this?
First Servingman	A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out o’ the house: prithee, call my master to him. Retires.
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. Pushes him away.
Third Servingman	What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here.
Second Servingman	And I shall. Exit.
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! Beats him away. Exit Third Servingman.
	Enter Aufidius* with the Second Servingman.*
Aufidius	Where is this fellow?
Second Servingman	Here, sir: I’ld have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within. Retires.
Aufidius	Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? Why speak’st not? speak, man: what’s thy name?
Coriolanus	If, Tullus, Unmuffling. 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 witness of the malice and displeasure Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; The cruelty and envy of the people, Permitted by our dastard nobles, who Have all forsook me, hath devour’d the rest; And suffer’d me by the voice of slaves to be Whoop’d out of Rome. Now this extremity Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope⁠— Mistake me not⁠—to save my life, for if I had fear’d death, of all the men i’ the world I would have ’voided thee, but in mere spite, To be full quit of those my banishers, Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge 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 That my revengeful services may prove 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 darest not this and that to prove more fortunes Thou’rt tired, then, in a word, I also am Longer to live most weary, and present My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, Since I have ever follow’d thee with hate, Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country’s breast, And cannot live but to thy shame, unless It be to do thee service.
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 times hath broke, And scarr’d the moon with splinters: here I clip The anvil of my sword, and do contest As hotly and as nobly with thy love As ever in ambitious strength I did Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, I loved the maid I married; never man Sigh’d truer breath; but that I see thee here, Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride 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 hast beat me out Twelve several times, and I have nightly since Dreamt of encounters ’twixt thyself and me; We have been down together in my sleep, Unbuckling helms, fisting each other’s throat, And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that Thou art thence banish’d, we would muster all From twelve to seventy, and pouring war Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, Like a bold flood o’er-bear. O, come, go in, And take our friendly senators by the hands; Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, Who am prepared against your territories, Though not for Rome itself.
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 remote, To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: Let me commend thee first to those that shall Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! And more a friend than e’er an enemy; Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome! Exeunt Coriolanus* and Aufidius. The two Servingmen come forward.*
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.
	Reenter Third Servingman.
Third Servingman	O slaves, I can tell you news⁠—news, you rascals!
First Servingman Second 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 Second 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 carbonado.
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 discourse. But the bottom of the news is, our general is cut i’ the 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 the ears: he will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled.
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! Exeunt.

ACT IV - Scene V Coriolanus

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