The Tragedy of Coriolanus

by William Shakespeare

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—Would 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. But a greater soldier than he you wot one.

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.