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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
Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.
Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither. Vol. Why, I pray you?
Vir. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.
Val. You would be another Penelope : yet, they say, all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but till Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.
Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; I will not forth.
Val. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.
Vir. O good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.
Vir. Indeed, madam ?
Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is:-The Volsces 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.
Vol. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.
Val. In troth, I think she would :-Fare you well then.-Come, good sweet lady.-Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o'door, and go along with us.
Vir. No, at a word, madam: indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth. Val. Well, then, farewell.
SCENE IV.-Before Corioli.
Lart. So, the good horse is mine.
Mar. I'll buy him of you.
Lart. No, I'll nor sell, nor give him: lend you him, I will,
For half a hundred years.-Summon the town.
Mar. Then shall we hear their larum, and they ours.
Now, Mars, I pr'ythee make us quick in work: That we, with smoking swords, may march from hence, [blast To help our fielded friends!-Come, blow thy They sound a parley.-Enter on the walls, some SENATORS, and others.
They'll open of themselves.
There is Aufidius; list, what Amongst your cloven army,
Hark you, far off; [Other Alarums. work he makes
Mar. Oh! they are at it! Lart. Their noise be our instruction.-L.dders ho!
The VOLSCES enter and pass over the Stage. Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city.
[fight Now put your shields before your hearts, and With hearts more proof than shields.-Advance, brave Titus: They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, Which makes me sweat with wrath.-Come on, my fellows;
He that retires, I'll take him for a Volsce.
Alarum, and exeunt ROMANS and VOLSCES, fighting. The ROMANS are beaten back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS.
Or, by the tires of heaven, I'll leave the foe, And make my wars on you: look to't: Come [wives, If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their As they us to our trenches followed. Another Alarum. The VOLSCES and ROMANS re-enter, and the fight is renewed. The VOLSCES retire into Corioli, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates.
So, now the gates are ope :-Now prove good seconds:
'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, Not for the fliers: make me, and do the like. [He enters the gates, and is shut in
1 Sol. Fool-hardiness! not I. 2 Sol. Nor I.
3 Sol. See, they
Have shut him in.
All. To the pot, I warrant him.
1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels,
Lart. O noble fellow!
A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
Were feverous and did tremble.
Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls? 1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he, Re-enter MARCIUS bleeding, assaulted by That's lesser than a little. Hark, our drums [Alarums afar off. Are bringing forth our youth: We'll break our walls,
1 Sol. Look, Sir. Lart. 'Tis Marcius:
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. [They fight, and all enter the city,
When it is bent.
SCENE V.-Within the town.-A Street.
Enter certain ROMANS, with spoils.
1 Rom. This I will carry to Rome. 2 Rom. And I this.
3 Rom. A murrain on't! I took this for silver. [Alarum continues still afar off. Enter MARCIUS, and TITUS LARTIUS, with a trumpet.
Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their hours
At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
And hark, what noise the general makes! To him:
There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, Piercing our Romans: Then, valiant Titus, take Convenient numbers to make good the city; Whilst 1, with those that have the spirit, will To help Cominius.
Lart. Worthy Sir, thou bleed'st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent for
A second course of fight.
Mar. Sir, praise me not:
My work bath yet not warn'd me: Fare you
Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
Fall deep in lo e with thee and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, Prosperity be thy page!
Mar. Thy friend no less
Than those she placeth highest! So farewell.
SCENE VI.-Near the Camp of COMINIUS.
Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,
[heard By interims, and conveying gusts, we have The charges of our friends :-The Roman gods Lead their successes as we wish our own; That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering.
Enter a MESSENGER.
May give you thankful sacrifice!-Thy news?
Com. Though thou speak'st truth,
He has the stamp of Marcias; and I have
Mar. Come 1 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.
Mar. Come I too late?
Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of But mantled in your own. [others,
Mar. Oh! let me clip you
In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart
Com. Flower of warriors,
Mar. As with a man busied 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? Call him hither.
That most are willing :-If any such be here,
Methinks, thou speak'st not well. How long is't Wave thus [waving his hand] to express his
And follow Marcius,
[They all shout and wave their swords; take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps.
O me, alone! Make you a sword of me?
Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon us.-
Worse than a promise-breaker
Not Afric owns a serpent, I abhor
More than thy fame and envy: Fix thy foot.
Auf. If I fly, Marcius,
Halloo me like a hare.
Mar. Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleas'd: 'Tis not my
Wherein thou seest me mask'd for thy revenge,
Auf. Wert thou the Hector,
That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, $
[They fight and certain Volsces come to
[Exeunt fighting, driven in by MARCIUS.
SCENE IX.-The Roman Camp. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter at one side, COMINIUS and Romans; at the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans.
Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's
Thou'lt not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it,
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine ho-
Shall say, against their hearts-We thank the
Having fully dined before.
The treasure, in this field achiev'd, and city,
Mar. I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
[A long flourish. They all cry, Marcius!
Here's many else have done,) you shout me forth
As if I loved my little should be dieted
Com. Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report, than grateful
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and Drums.
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush, or no: Howbeit, I thank you :
Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from mean to stride your steed; and, at all times,
To undercrest your good addition,
To the fairness of my power.
Com. So, to our tent:
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success.-You, Titus Lartius,
I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
And, would'st do so, I think, should we
1 Sol. He's the devil,
Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle: My our's poison'd,
Men. Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the noble Marcius.
Bru. He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. Men. He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
Both Trib. Well, Sir.
Men. In what enormity is Marcius poor, that you two have not in abundance?
Bru. He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
Sic. Especially, in pride.
Bru. And topping all others in boasting. Men. This is strange now: Do you two know how you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o'the right hand file? Do you?
Both Trib. Why, how are we censured? Men. Because you talk of pride now,-Will you not be angry?
Both trib. Well, well, Sir, well.
Men. Why 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience give your disposition the reins, and be angry at your pleasures; at the least, if you take it as a pleasure to you, in being so. You blame Marcius for being proud?
Bru. We do it not alone, Sir.
Men. I know you can do very little alone; for your helps are many; or else your actions would grow wondrous single: your abilities are too infant-like, for doing much alone. You talk of pride: Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves! Oh! that you could!
Bru. What then, Sir?
Men. Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, (alias, fools) as any in Rome.
Sic. Menenius, you are known well enough too. Men. I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tyber in't; said to be [way; something imperfect, in favouring the first complaint: hasty and tinder-like, upon too trivial vai-motion: one that converses more with the buttock of the night, than with the forehead of the morning. What I think, I utter; and spend my malice in my breath: Meeting two such weals+men as you are, (I cannot call you Lycurguses) if the drink you gave ine, touch my palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot say, your worships have delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables and though I must be content to bear with those that say you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you have good faces. If you see this in the map of my mycrocosin, follows it, that I am known well enough too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be known well enough too.
With only suffering stain by him; for him
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are, that
1 Sol. Will not you go?
Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove :
('Tis south the city mills,) bring me word thither
1 Sol. I shall, Sir.
Bru. Come, Sir, come, we know you well enough.
Men. You know neither me, yourselves, nor any thing. You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs; § you wear out a good wholesome forenoon, in hearing a cause between an orangewife and a fosset-seller; and then rejourn the controversy of three-pence to a second day of audience. When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinched with the cholic, you make faces like mummers; set up the bloody flag against all patience; and, roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing all the peace you make in their cause is, calling both the parties knaves: You are a pair of strange ones.
Bru. Come, come, you are well understood to be a perfecter giber for the table, than a neces. sary bencher in the Capitol.
4 Strike. Waited for
Under my brother's
(A Shout and Flourish
Vol. These are the ushers of Marcius: before him
[tears; He carries noise, and behind him he leaves Death, that dark spirit, in's nervy arm doth lie; Which being advanc'd, declines, and then men die.
Men. Our very priests must become mockers, Men. Now its twenty-seven: every gash was if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects an enemy's grave: as you are. When you speak best unto the pur-Hark! the trumpets. pose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not so honourable a grave, as to stuff a botcher's cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all your predecessors, since Deucalion; though, peradventure, some of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. Good e'en to your worships; more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.
[BRU. and Sic. retire to the back of the Scene. Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA, &c. How now, my as fair as noble ladies, (and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler) whither do you follow your eyes so fast?
Vol. Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for the love of Juno, let's go. Men. Ha! Marcius coming home?
Vol. Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.
Men. Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee: -Hoo! Marcius coming home?
Two Ladies. Nay, 'tis true.
Vol. Look, here's a letter from him; the state hath another; his wife another; and I think, there's one at home for you.
Men. I will make my very house reel to-night: -A letter for me?
Vir. Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw it.
Men. A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years' health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most sovereign prescription of Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horsedrench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.
Sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS
Within Corioli' gates: where he hath won,
[Flourish. All. Welcome to Rome, renowned CorioJanus !
Cor. No more of this, it does offend my heart;
Com. Look, Sir, your mother,-
You have I know, petition'd all the gods
Vol. Nay, my good soldier, up;
Cor. My gracious silence, hail!
That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear,
Men. Now the gods crown thee!
Men. And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant | We have some old crab-trees here at home, that him that an he had staid by him, I would not have been so fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?
Vol. Good ladies, let's go :-Yes, yes, yes: the senate has letters from the general, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.
Val. In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him
Men. Wondrous? ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing,
Vir. The gods grant them true!
Men. True? I'll be sworn they are true:Where is he wounded?-God save your good worships! [To the Tribunes, who come forward.]] Marcius is coming home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?
Vol. I'the shoulder, and i'the left arm: There will be large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse of Tarquin, seven hurts i'the body. Men. One in the neck, and two in the thigh,— there's nine that I know.
Vol. He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five wounds upon him.
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome war-
Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.
[To his Wife and Mother
To see inherited my very wishes,
Cor. Know, good mother,
I had rather be their servant in my way,
[Flourish. Coronets. Exeunt in state, as
Are spectacled to see him: Your pratling nurse