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. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Before Corioli. Enter, with Drum and Colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Officers, and Soldiers. To them a Messenger. Mar. Say, has our general met the enemy? 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. Mess. How far off lie these armies? Within this mile and half. 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, A Parley sounded. Enter, on the Walls, two Senators, and Others. Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls? 1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he, That's lesser than a little. Hark, our drums [Drums afar off. Are bringing forth our youth: we'll break our walls, Rather than they shall pound us up. Our gates, Which yet seem shut, we have but pinn'd with rushes; They 'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off; [Alarum afar off. There is Aufidius: list, what work he makes Amongst your cloven army. Mar. O! they are at it. Lart. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! The Volsces enter, and pass over the Stage. Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city. Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight 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 Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd Farther than seen, and one infect another And make my wars on you: look to 't: come on; 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: mark me, and do the like. Slain, Sir, doubtless. Lart. What is become of Marcius? 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy. 1 Sol. Lart. Look, Sir! O't is Marcius! Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. [They fight, and all enter the City. 1 Rom. 2 Rom. 3 Rom. SCENE V. Within the Town. A Street. Enter certain Romans, with Spoils. And I this. A murrain on 't! I took this for silver. [Alarum continues still afar off. Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste My work hath yet not warm'd me. Fare you well. The blood I drop is rather physical Than dangerous to me. I will appear, and fight. To Aufidius thus Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Lart. Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius! Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; [Exit MARCIUS Call thither all the officers of the town, Where they shall know our mind. Away! [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Near the Camp of COMINIUS. Enter COMINIUS and Forces, as in retreat. 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, - Lead their successes as we wish our own, That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering, Mess. Enter a Messenger. Thy news? The citizens of Corioli have issued, And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: And then I came away. Com. Though thou speak'st truth, Methinks, thou speak'st not well. How long is 't since? Com. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: And bring thy news so late? Mess. Enter MARCIUS. Com. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods! |