Cor.
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, Enter a Citizen.
In puny battle slay me.—Save you, sir.

Cit.
And you.

Cor.
Direct me, if it be your will,
Where great Aufidius lies: Is he in Antium?

Cit.
He is, and feasts the nobles of the state,
At his house this night.

Cor.
Which is his house, 'beseech you?

Cit.
This, here, before you.

Cor.
Thank you, sir; farewell. [Exit Citizen.
O, world, thy slippery turns^{4 note}! Friends now fast sworn,
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,
Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love^{5 note}

Unseparable, shall within this hour,
On a dissention of a doit, break out
To bitterest enmity: So, fellest foes,
Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep
To take the one the other, by some chance,
Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends,
And interjoin their issues. So with me:—
My birth-place hate I^{6 note}

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