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? 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? Cor. Prepare thy brow to frown: Know'st thou me yet?

Auf. I know thee not:-Thy name?

Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
To thee particularly, and to all the Volces,
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 should'st bear me: only that name re-
mains;

The cruelty and envy of the people,
Permitted by our dastard nobles, who

Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
And suffered me by the voice of slaves to be
Whoop'd 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 fear'd death, of all the men i' the 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 will revenge

a good memory,] Memory for memorial.
2 A heart of wreak in thee,] A heart of resentment.

Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those mains 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 canker'd 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 art tir'd, 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 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 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 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

maims

Of shame-] That is, disgraceful diminutions of territory.

with the spleen

Of all the under fiends.] Shakspeare, by imputing a stronger degree of inveteracy to subordinate fiends, seems to intimate, and very justly, that malice of revenge is more predominant in the lower than the upper classes of society. This circumstance is repeatedly exemplified in the conduct of Jack Cade and other heroes of the mob. STEEVENS.

6

And scar'd the moon-] that is, frightened.

Here I clip-] To clip is to embrace.

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 wak'd half dead with nothing. Worthy Mar-
cius,

Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
From twelve to seventy; and, pouring war
Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
Like a bold flood o'er-beat. O, come, go in,
And take our friendly senators by the hands;
Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
Who am prepar'd against your territories,
Though not for Rome itself.

Cor.

You bless me, Gods! Auf. Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt

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

Twelve several times,] Out here means, full, complete.

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 e'er an enemy;

Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand! Most welcome!

[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS.

1 Serv. [Advancing.] Here's a strange alteration! 2 Serv. 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.

1 Serv. What an arm he has! He turned me about with his finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.

2 Serv. 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.

1 Serv. He had so; looking as it were, 'Would I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

2 Serv. So did I, I'll be sworn: He is simply the rarest man i' the world.

1 Serv. I think, he is: but a greater soldier than he, you wot one.

2 Serv. Who? my master?

1 Serv. Nay, it's no matter for that.

2 Serv. Worth six of him.

1 Serv. Nay, not so neither; but I take him to be the greater soldier.

2 Serv. 'Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.

1 Serv. Ay, and for an assault too.

Re-enter third Servant.

3 Serv. O, slaves, I can tell you news; news, you rascals.

1.2. Serv. What, what, what? let's partake.

3. Serv. I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as lieve be a condemned man.

1. 2. Serv. Wherefore? wherefore?

3 Serv. Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general,-Caius Marcius.

1 Serv. Why do you say, thwack our general? 3 Serv. I do not say, thwack our general; but he was always good enough for him.

2 Serv. Come, we are fellows, and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.

1 Serv. He was too hard for him directly, to say the truth on't: before Corioli, he scotched him and notched him like a carbonado.

2 Serv. An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too.

1 Serv. But, more of thy news?

3 Serv. 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 sowle the porter of Rome

8 sanctifies himself with's hand,] Perhaps the allusion is (however out of place) to the degree of sanctity anciently suppo sed to be derived from touching the corporal relick of a saint or a martyr.