God-den to your worships: more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians.
(II. i. 103.)
In this mood he asks them in regard to Coriolanus:
Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter—
That’s thousand to one good one?
(II. ii. 82.)
He has to the full the aristocratic loathing for the uncleanly populace:
You are they
That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at