Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (506 page)
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
8.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Exit
4.5Music plays. Enter a Servingman
FIRST SERVINGMAN Wine, wine, wine! What service is here? I think our fellows are asleep.
⌈
Exit
⌉
Exit
⌉
Enter a Second Servingman
SECOND SERVINGMAN Where’s Cotus? My master calls for him. Cotus!
Exit
Enter Coriolanus, as before
CORIOLANUS A goodly house. The feast
Smells well, but I appear not like a guest.
Enter 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.
Enter 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 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’th’ house. Prithee, call my master to him.
THIRD SERVINGMAN (
to Coriolanus
) What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid the house.
to Coriolanus
) 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.
He pushes him away from him
THIRD SERVINGMAN What, you will not?—Prithee tell my master what a strange guest he has here.
SECOND SERVINGMAN And I shall.
Exit Second Servingman
THIRD SERVINGMAN Where dwell’st thou?
CORIOLANUS Under the canopy.
THIRD SERVINGMAN Under the canopy?
CORIOLANUS Ay.
THIRD SERVINGMAN Where’s that?
CORIOLANUS I’th’ city of kites and crows.
THIRD SERVINGMAN I‘th’ city of kites and crows? What an ass it is! Then thou dwell’st 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 prat’st and prat’st. Serve with thy trencher. Hence!
He beats him away.Enter Aufidius, with the Second Servingman
AUFIDIUS Where is this fellow?
SECOND SERVINGMAN Here, sir. I’d have beaten him like a dog but for disturbing the lords within.
⌈
The Servingmen stand aside
⌉
AUFIDIUS
Whence com‘st thou? What wouldst thou? Thy name?
Why speak’st not? Speak, man. What’s thy name?
Why speak’st not? Speak, man. What’s thy name?
CORIOLANUS ⌈
unmuffling his head
⌉
unmuffling his head
⌉
If, Tullus,
Not yet thou know’st me, and seeing me dost not
Think me for the man I am, necessity
Commands me name myself.
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.
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?
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 Martius, 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 devoured the rest,
And suffered me by th’ voice of slaves to be
Whooped 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 feared death, of all the men i‘th’ 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 cankered country with the spleen
Of all the under-fiends. But if so be
Thou dar‘st 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 followed 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.
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 devoured the rest,
And suffered me by th’ voice of slaves to be
Whooped 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 feared death, of all the men i‘th’ 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 cankered country with the spleen
Of all the under-fiends. But if so be
Thou dar‘st 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 followed 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 Martius, Martius!
Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded 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 Martius. Let me twine
Mine arms about that body whereagainst
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke,
And scarred the moon with splinters.
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 Martius. Let me twine
Mine arms about that body whereagainst
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke,
And scarred the moon with splinters.
(
He embraces Coriolanus
)
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
Sighed 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 Martius,
Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that
Thou art thence banished, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy, and, pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold flood o’erbear’t. O, come, go in,
And take our friendly senators by th’ hands
Who now are here taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepared against your territories,
Though not for Rome itself.
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
Sighed 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 Martius,
Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that
Thou art thence banished, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy, and, pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold flood o’erbear’t. O, come, go in,
And take our friendly senators by th’ 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
Th‘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 ere an enemy;
Yet, Martius, that was much. Your hand. Most
welcome!
The leading of thine own revenges, take
Th‘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 ere an enemy;
Yet, Martius, that was much. Your hand. Most
welcome!
Exeunt
⌈
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—wou)d 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’th’ world.
FIRST SERVINGMAN I think he is yet 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.
Enter the Third Servingman
THIRD SERVINGMAN O, slaves, I can tell you news—news, you rascals!
FIRST and SECOND SERVINGMEN What, what, what? Let’s partake.
THIRD SERVINGMAN I would not be a Roman of all nations.
I had as lief be a condemned man.
FIRST and SECOND SERVINGMEN Wherefore? Wherefore?
THIRD SERVINGMAN Why, here’s he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Martius.
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 truth on’t, before Corioles 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‘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 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 dejectitude.
FIRST SERVINGMAN Dejectitude? 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 Tomorrow, today, 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 sprightly walking, 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.
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
8.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Other books
Trace Their Shadows by Ann Cook
Me Cheeta by Cheeta
No Nest for the Wicket by Andrews, Donna
The Case of the Disappearing Corpse by June Whyte
The Truth Lies Beneath Your Eyes by Nzingha Keyes
Edge by Michael Cadnum
Clinician's Guide to Mind Over Mood by Christine A. Padesky, Dennis Greenberger
Lingering Touch - A Story of Young Love by Anna Howard
Salt by Jeremy Page
Prohibit by Viola Grace
