Enter Coriolanus in mean apparel, disguised and muffled.
CORIOLANUS.
A goodly city is this Antium. City,
’Tis I that made thy widows. Many an heir
Of these fair edifices ’fore my wars
Have I heard groan and drop. Then know me not,
Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones
In puny battle slay me.
Enter a Citizen.
Save you, sir.
CITIZEN.
And you.
CORIOLANUS.
Direct me, if it be your will,
Where great Aufidius lies. Is he in Antium?
CITIZEN.
He is, and feasts the nobles of the state
At his house this night.
CORIOLANUS.
Which is his house, beseech you?
CITIZEN.
This here before you.
CORIOLANUS.
Thank you, sir. Farewell.