Oh World, thy slippery turnes! Friends now fast sworn,
Whose double bosomes seemes to weare one heart,
Whose Houres, whose Bed, whose Meale and Exercise
Are still together: who Twin (as 'twere) in Loue,
Vnseparable, shall within this houre,
On a dissention of a Doit, breake out
To bitterest Enmity: So fellest Foes,
Whose Passions, and whose Plots haue broke their sleep
To take the one the other, by some chance,
Some tricke not worth an Egge, shall grow deere friends
And inter-ioyne their yssues. So with me,
My Birth-place haue I, and my loues vpon
This Enemie Towne: Ile enter, if he slay me
He does faire Iustice: if he giue me way,
Ile do his Country Seruice.
Enter.
Musicke playes. Enter a Seruingman.
1 Ser. Wine, Wine, Wine: What seruice is heere? I thinke our Fellowes are asleepe.
Enter another Seruingman.
2 Ser. Where's Cotus: my M[aster]. cals for him: Cotus.
Exit
Enter Coriolanus.
Corio. A goodly House:
The Feast smels well: but I appeare not like a Guest.
Enter the first Seruingman.
1 Ser. What would you haue Friend? whence are you?
Here's no place for you: pray go to the doore?