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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