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Hath brought me to thy hearth, not out of hope
Auf. Oh, Marcius, Marcius,
Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
Cor. You bless me, gods !
Auf. Therefore, molt absolute Sir, if thou wilt The leading of thine own revenges, take [have One half of my commission, and let down As best thou art experienced, since thou know's Thy country's strength and weakness, thine own Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, [ways; Qr rudely visit them in parts remote, To fright them, ere destroy. But come, come in; Let me commend thee first to those that shall Say, yea to thy defires. A thousand welcomes ! And more a friend, than e'er an enemy : Yet, Marcius, that was much.--Your hand; most welcoine !
Enter two Servants,
2 Ser. By my hand, I had thought to have strue. ken him with a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me, his clothes inade a false report of him.
2 Ser. What an arm he has ! he turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
2 Ser. 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.
I Ser. He had fo: looking, as it were---would I. were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
2 Ser. So did. I, I'll be sworn : he is fimply the rarest man i' th' world.
1 Ser. I think he is; but a greater soldier than he, you wot one.
2 Ser. Who, my master?
1 Ser. Nay, not fo neither; but I take him to be the greater soldier,
2 Ser. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that; for the defence of a town, our General is excellent. I Ser. Ay, and for an affault too.
Enter a third Servanta 3 Ser. Oh, slaves, I can tell you news; news, Both. What, what, what? let's partake.
3 Ser. I would not be a Roman, of all nations ; I had as lieve be a condemned man..
Both. Wherefore? wherefore?
3 Ser. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack: our General, Caius Marcius.
I Ser. Why do you say, thwack our General?
3 Ser. I do not fay, thwack our General; but he was always good enough for him.
2 Ser. Come, we are fellows and friends; he was ever too hard for him, I have heard him fay fo: himself.
i Ser. He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth on't : before Corioli, he scocht him and nocht him like a carbonado.
2 Ser. And, had he been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too.
I Ser. But, more of thy news'; -
3 Ser. Why, he is so made on here within; as if he were son and heir to Mars: fet at upper end of th” table; no question asked him by any of the fe. nators, but they stand bald before him. Our General himself makes a mistress of him, sanctifies him. self with’s hands, 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 intreaty and grant of the whole table.. He'll go, he says, and fowle the porter of Rome-gates by the ears.
He will mow down all before him, ani leave his paffage polled.
2 Ser. And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.
3-Ser. Do't ! he will do't: for look you, Sir, he has as many friends as enemies; which friends, Sir, as it were, durit not look you, Sir) thew themselves (as we term 'it) his friends whilst he's in directitude.
i Ser. Directitude ! what's that? 3
Ser. But when they shall fee, Sir, his creit up again, and the man in blood, they will out of their
burroughs (like connies after rain) and revel all with him.
i Ser. But when goes this forward?
3 Ser. Tomorrow, 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.
2 Ser. Why, then we shall have a stirring worldi again: this peace is worth nothing, but to ruft iron, encrease tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
1 Ser. Let me have war, fay I; it exceeds peace,. as far as day does night; it's fprightly, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy, mulled, deaf, fleepy, insensible, a getter of more bastard children than war's a destroyer of
2 Ser. 'Tis fo; and as war in some fort may
be faid to be a ravilher, so it cannot be denied but: peace is a great maker of cuckolds.
| Ser. Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
3 Ser. Reason, because they then less need one another: the wars, for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians. They are rifing, they are rising. Both. In, in, in, in.
Scene, a public place in Rome.
Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS.
633) We hear not of him, neither need we fear him,
Wire in wild hurry.) As this pasage has been hitherto pointed, it labours under two abfurdisies; first, that the