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And interjoin their issues. So with me:--
A Hall in Aufidius's House,
Musick within. Enter a Servant.
1 Serv. Wine, wine, wine! What service is here! I think our fellows are asleep.
Enter another Servant.
2 Serv. Where's Cotus ! my master calls for him. Cotus !
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 you: Pray, go to the door.
Cor. I have deserv'd no better entertainment, In being Coriolanus.
Re-enter second Servant. 2 Serv. Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his head, that he gives entrance to such companions ? Pray, get you out.
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. 8. Serv. What fellow's this?
1 Serv. A strange one as ever I looked on: 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 Seru. 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 on cold bits. [Pushes him away.
3 Seru. What, will you not ? Prythee, tell my master what a strange guest he has here. 2 Serv. And I shall.
[Exit. 3 Seri. Where dwellest thou ? Cor. Under the canopy. 3 Serv. Under the canopy? Cor. Ay. 3 Serv. Where's that? Cor. I'the city of kites and crows.
3 Serv. l' 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. Thou prat'st, and prat'st; serve with thy trencher, hence! [Beats him away
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?
Thy name? Why speak’st not ? Speak, man: What's thy name? Cor.
If, Tullus, [Unmuffling. Not yet thou know'st me, and seeing me, dost not Think me for the man I am, necessity 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?
Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
Whoop'd out of Rome. Now, this extremity
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. Auf.
O Marcius, Marcius, Each word thou hast spoke hath weęded from my
heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say, 'Tis true; I'd not believe them more than thee, All noble Marcius. - O let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, And scar'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
threshold. Why, thou Mars ! I tell
You bless me, Gods !
have The leading of thine own revenges, take The one half of
my commission; and set down, As best thou art experienc’d, since thou know'st Thy country's strength and weakness, - thine own