Coriolanus

Antium is a good city. I made its women into widows. Its sons have died at my hands in battle. May I go unrecognized, so that the women won’t spit at me and the men won’t throw stones.

May the gods protect you, sir.

And you.

Could you please tell me where to find the great Aufidius? Is he in Antium?

He is. The nobles of the state are having a feast at his house tonight.

Where is his house, do you mind telling me?

This one, right here.

Thank you, sir. Farewell.

The world has many twists and turns! Friends who at this moment are loyal to each other, who seem to share one heart, live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, eat the same food, and work together—who love each other like inseparable twins—will, within an hour, become bitter enemies because of a minor disagreement. And mortal enemies, who spend sleepless nights furiously plotting to capture each other’s keep, will by some random chance become dear friends and join their interests together. This is how it is with me: I hate the place I come from and I love my enemy’s town. It would be fair for him to kill me, but if he lets me live, I’ll fight for his country.