Vol. he had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his schoolmaster.

Val. O' my word, the father's son; I'll swear 'tis a very pretty boy. O' my troth, I look'd upon him o'Wednesday half an hour together:-he has such a confirm'd countenance! I saw him run after a gilded butterfly; and when he caught it, he let it go again; . and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again; catch'd it again; or whether his fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth, and tear it; O' I warrant, how he mammock'd it!

Vol. One of his father's moods.

Val. Indeed la, 'tis a noble child.
Vir. A crack, madam.

Val. Come, lay aside your business; I must have
you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon.
Vir. No, good madam; I will not out of doors.
Val. Not out of doors!

Vol. She shall, she shall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience; I will not over the threshold, till my lord return from the wars.

Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: you would.be another Penelope: yet, they say, all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come, you shall go with us. Vir. No, good madam, pardon me : indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

Vir. Oh, good madam, there can be none yet.
Val. Verily, I do not jest with you.

Vir. Indeed, madam?

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is :-the Volscians have an army forth, against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars.

This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.

Vir. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

[Exit VIRGILIA. Vol Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Wood near the Camp of COMINIUS.—Trumpets sound a Retreat.

Enter COMINIUS, with his ARMY, retreating. Com. Breathe you, my friends.-Well fought; we are come off

Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,

Nor cowardly in retire.-Believe me, sirs,

We shall be charg❜d again. Whiles we have struck
By interims, and conveying gusts, we have heard
The charges of our friends. The Roman gods
Lead their successes as we wish our own!

Thy news?

Enter an OFFICER.

Offi. The citizens of Corioli have issu❜d, And given to Marcius battle:

I saw our party to the trenches driv❜n,

And then I came away.

Com. How long is't since?

Offi. Above an hour, my lord.-Spies of the Vol

scians

Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel

Three or four miles about; else had I, sir,

Half an hour since brought my report.

[The OFFICER retires.

Com. Who's yonder,

That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods!
He has the stamp of Marcius.

Mar. [Without.] Come I too late?

Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor. More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue From every meaner man's.

Enter MARCIUS.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own.

Mar. Oh! let me clip you

In arms as sound, as when I woo'd: in heart
As merry, as when our nuptial day was done,
And tapers burn'd to bedward.

Com. Flower of warriors!-
How is't with Titus Lartius?

Mar. As with a man busy'd about decrees;
Condemning some to death, and some to exile;
Ransoming him, or pitying, threat'ning the other;
Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
To let him slip at will.

Com. Where is that slave,

Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Where is he?

[The OFFICER advances, and the SOLDIERS prepare to seize him.

Mar. Let him alone;

He did inform the truth.-But for our gentlemen, The common file, (a plague, tribunes for them!) The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge From rascals worse than they.

Com. But how prevail'd you?

Mar. Will the time serve to tell? I do not thinkWhere is the enemy? Are you lords o'the field ? If not, why cease you till you are so ?

Com. Marcius,

We have at disadvantage fought, and did
Retire, to win our purpose.

Mar. How lies their battle? know you on which

side

They have plac'd their men of trust?

Com. As I guess, Marcius,

Their bands i'the vaward are the Antiates,
Of their best trust: o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.

Mar. I do beseech you,

By all the battles wherein we have fought,
By the blood we have shed together,
That you directly

Set me against Aufidius.

Com. Though I could wish

You were conducted to a gentle bath,
And balms apply'd to you, yet dare I never
Deny your asking; take your choice of those
That best can aid your action.

Mar. Those are they,

That most are willing. If any such be here,
That love this painting,

Wherein you see me smear'd;

If any think, brave death outweighs bad life,
And that his country's dearer than himself:
Let him alone, or so many, so minded,
Wave thus, to express his disposition.

[Trumpets-SOLDIERS shout, and wave their
Swords.

If these shows be not outward, which of

you But is four Volscians ?-Follow Marcius! come [Exit.-A loud Flourish.-A Battle.-A Retreat sounded.

Enter MARCIUS, COMINIUS, OFFICERS, and SOLDiers. Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, Thou't not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it,

Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles;

Where the dull tribunes,

That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,

Shall say, against their hearts,-" We thank the gods, Our Rome hath such a soldier!"

Mar. Pray, now, no more: my mother,

Who has a charter to extol her blood,

When she does praise me, grieves me: I have done, you have done, that's what I can; induc'd

As

As you have been, that's for my country.

Com. You shall not be

The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
The value of her own;

Therefore, I beseech you,

(In sign of what you are, not to reward What you have done,) before our army hear me. Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they

smart

To hear themselves remember'd.

Com. Should they not,

Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,

And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, (Whereof we've ta'en good, and good store,) of all The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,

We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at

Your only choice.

Mar. I thank you, general:

But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe, to pay my sword: I do refuse it.

[A Flourish of Trumpets, &c.

May these same instruments, which you profane,

Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall I'the field prove flatterers, let camps as cities,

Be made of false fac'd soothing.

No more, I say;

[Flourish again.

For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled,Or foil'd some debile wretch, (which without note