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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? If these shows be not outward, which of you But is four Volsces ? None of you, but is Able to bear against the great Aufidius A shield as hard as his. A certain number, Though thanks to all, must I select from all: the rest Shall bear the business in some other fight, As cause will be obey’d. Please you, march before', And I’ shall quickly draw out my command, Which men are best inclin'd. Com.
March on, my fellows: Make good this ostentation, and you shall Divide in all with us.
[Exeunt. SCENE VII.--The Gates of Corioli. TITUS LARTIUS, having set a Guard upon Corioli, going
with Drum and Trumpet toward COMiNius and Caius Marcius, enters with a Lieutenant, a party of Soldiers, and a Scout.
Lart. So ; let the ports be guarded : keep your duties, As I have set them down. If I do send, despatch Those centuries to our aid ; the rest will serve For a short holding : if we lose the field, We cannot keep the town. Lieu.
Fear not our care, sir. Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon us.Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.
[Ereunt. SCENE VIII.-A Field of Battle between the Roman
and the Volscian Camps.
We hate alike:
Mar. Let the first budger die the other's slave,
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. 'T is not my blood, Wherein thou seest me mask'd : for thy revenge, Wrench up thy power to the highest, Auf.
Were thou the Hector, That was the whip of your bragg’d progeny, Thou shouldst not scape me here.
[They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of
[Exeunt fighting, all driven in by Marcius.
SCENE IX.—The Roman Camp. Alarum. A Retreat 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 work,
Pray now, no more : my mother,
You shall not be
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
Should they not, Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, (Whereof we have 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; And stand upon my common part with those That have beheld the doing. [A long flourish. They all cry, MARCIUS! MARCIUS !
cast up their Caps and Lances : COMINIUS and LAR
TIUS stand bare. Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane, Never sound more: when drums and trumpets shall I the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be Made all of false-fac'd soothing; When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, Let it be made a coverture' for the wars. No more, I say. For that I have not wash'd My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch, Which without note here's many else have done, You shout me forth In acclamations hyperbolical; As if I loved my little should be dieted In praises sauc'd with lies. Com.
Too modest are you : More cruel to your good report, than grateful To us that give you truly. By your patience, If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you (Like one that means his proper harm) in manacles, Then reason safely with you.—Therefore, be it known,
1 them: in f. e. overture : in f. e.
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
, call him,
[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and Drums, All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus !
Cor. I will go wash;
So, to our tent;
I shall, my lord.
Take it: 't is yours.--What is 't ?
Lart. Marcius, his name?
By Jupiter, forgot
Go we to our tent.
SCENE X.-The Camp of the Volsces.
bloody, with two or three Soldiers.
Auf. Condition !-
He's the devil.
Will not you go? Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you, ('T is south the city mills) bring me word thither How the world goes, that to the pace of it I may spur on my journey. 1 Sold.
I shall, sir. (Exeunt. 1 Thrust at with a pointed instrument. » Embargoes.