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Lart. So, the good horse is mine.

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. 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,
To help our fielded friends -Come, blow thy blast.
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.

0! 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 He that retires, I'll take him for a Volsce, (fellows: And he shall feel mine edge. Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volsces, fighting. The

Romans are beaten back to their Trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS enraged.

Mar. All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! Unheard-of boils and plagues? Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd Farther than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,

1 You herd of-Boils and plagues : in f. e. Vol. VI.-11

That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell !
All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge home,
Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe,
And make my wars on you. Look to 't: come on;
If you ’ll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
As they us to our trenches follow.
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.

(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. (Alarum continues. All.

To the port! I warrant him.

Enter Titus LARTIUS.
Lart. What is become of Marcius ?

Slain, sir, doubtless. 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, · With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,

Clapp'd-to their gates: he is himself alone,
To answer all the city.

O noble fellow !
Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword,
And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius :
A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art
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
The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,
Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.
The Gates open. Re-enter Marcius, bleeding, assaulted

by the Enemy.
1 Sol.

Look, sir!

0, 't is Marcius ! Let’s fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, and all enter the City. 1 pot : in f. e.

SCENE V.-Within the Town. A Street.

Enter certain Romans, with Spoils. 1 Rom. This will I 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,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,
Ere yet the fight be done, pack up.-Down with them!
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 I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
To help Cominius.

Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent
For a second course of fight.

Sir, praise me not ;
My work hath yet not warm’d me. Fare you well.
The blood I drop is rather physical
Than dangerous to me. To Aufidius thus
I will appear, and fight.

Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Fall deep in love 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.

Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius ! (Exit Marcius.
Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers of the town,
Where they shall know our mind. Away! [Exeunt.

Near the Camp of COMINIUS.
Enter Comenius 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,
By interims and conveying gusts we have heard
The charges of our friends :--ye, Roman gods,
Lead their successes as we wish our own,
That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering
May give you thankful sacrifice !-

Enter a Messenger.

Thy news?
Mess. The citizens of Corioli have issued,
And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:
I saw our party to their trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Though thou speak'st truth, Methinks, thou speak’st not well. How long is 't since ?

Mess. Above an hour, my lord.

Com. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums:
How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,
And bring thy news so late ?

Spies of the Volsces
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.


Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flay'd ? O gods ! He has the stamp of Marcius, and I have Before-time seen him thus. Mar.

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.

Come I too late ?
Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
But mantled in your own.

0! 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.

Flower of warriors,
How is 't with Titus Lartius ?

Mar. As with a man busied about decrees : Condemning some to death, and some to exile ; Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; Holding Corioli, in the name of Rome,

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

Where is that slave,
Which told me they had beat you to your trenches ?
Where is he !--Call him hither.

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 think it. Where 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 purposes.

Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on which side They have plac'd their men of trust ? Com.

As I guess, Marcius,
Those bands i' the vayward are the Antiates,
Of their best trust : o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.

I do beseech you,
By all the battles wherein we have fought,
By the blood we have shed together, by the vows
We have made to endure friends, that you directly
Set me against Aufidius, and his Antiates ;
And that you not delay the present, but,
Filling the air with swords advanc'd and darts,
We prove this very hour.

Though I could wish
You were conducted to a gentle bath,
And balms applied to you, yet dare I never
Deny your asking. Take your choice of those
That best can aid your action.

Those are they
That most are willing.- If any such be here,
(As it were sin to doubt) that love this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Lesser his person than an ill report;
If any think brave death outweighs bad life,
And that his country is dearer than himself;
Let him, alone, or so many so minded,
Wave thus, to express his disposition,

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