Coriolanus

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.

Scene VI

Rome. A public place.

	Enter Sicinius and Brutus.
Sicinius	We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; His remedies are tame i’ the present peace And quietness of the people, which before Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, Though they themselves did suffer by’t, behold Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see Our tradesmen with in their shops and going About their functions friendly.
Brutus	We stood to’t in good time. Enter Menenius. Is this Menenius?
Sicinius	’Tis he, ’tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.
Both Tribunes	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, if He could have temporized.
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 all.
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 loved 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—
Sicinius	And affecting one sole throne, Without assistance.
Menenius	I think not so.
Sicinius	We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.
Brutus	The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without him.
	Enter an Aedile.
Aedile	Worthy tribunes, There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, Reports, the Volsces with two several powers Are enter’d in the Roman territories, And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before ’em.
Menenius	’Tis Aufidius, Who, hearing of our Marcius’ banishment, Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; Which were inshell’d when Marcius stood for Rome, And durst not once peep out.
Sicinius	Come, what talk you Of Marcius?
Brutus	Go see this rumourer whipp’d. It cannot be The Volsces dare break with us.
Menenius	Cannot be! We have record that very well it can, And three examples of the like have been Within my age. But reason with the fellow, Before you punish him, where he heard this, Lest you shall chance to whip your information And beat the messenger who bids beware Of what is to be dreaded.
Sicinius	Tell not me: I know this cannot be.
Brutus	Not possible.
	Enter a Messenger.
Messenger	The nobles in great earnestness are going All to the senate-house: some news is come That turns their countenances.
Sicinius	’Tis this slave;⁠— Go whip him, ’fore the people’s eyes:⁠—his raising; Nothing but his report.
Messenger	Yes, worthy sir, The slave’s report is seconded; and more, More fearful, is deliver’d.
Sicinius	What more fearful?
Messenger	It is spoke freely