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beholding; I, considering how honour would become such a person- |
that it was no better than picture-like to hang by th' wall, if |
renown made it not stir- was pleas'd to let him seek danger where |
he was to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him, from whence he |
return'd his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I |
sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child than |
now in first seeing he had proved himself a man. |
VIRGILIA. But had he died in the business, madam, how then? |
VOLUMNIA. Then his good report should have been my son; I therein |
would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely: had I a dozen |
sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my |
good Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country |
than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. |
Enter a GENTLEWOMAN |
GENTLEWOMAN. Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. |
VIRGILIA. Beseech you give me leave to retire myself. |
VOLUMNIA. Indeed you shall not. |
Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum; |
See him pluck Aufidius down by th' hair; |
As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him. |
Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus: |
'Come on, you cowards! You were got in fear, |
Though you were born in Rome.' His bloody brow |
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes, |
Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow |
Or all or lose his hire. |
VIRGILIA. His bloody brow? O Jupiter, no blood! |
VOLUMNIA. Away, you fool! It more becomes a man |
Than gilt his trophy. The breasts of Hecuba, |
When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier |
Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood |
At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria |
We are fit to bid her welcome. Exit GENTLEWOMAN |
VIRGILIA. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! |
VOLUMNIA. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee |
And tread upon his neck. |
Re-enter GENTLEWOMAN, With VALERIA and an usher |
VALERIA. My ladies both, good day to you. |
VOLUMNIA. Sweet madam! |
VIRGILIA. I am glad to see your ladyship. |
VALERIA. How do you both? You are manifest housekeepers. What are |
you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith. How does your little |
son? |
VIRGILIA. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. |
VOLUMNIA. He had rather see the swords and hear a drum than look |
upon his schoolmaster. |
VALERIA. O' my word, the father's son! I'll swear 'tis a very |
pretty boy. O' my troth, I look'd upon him a Wednesday half an |
hour together; 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! |
VOLUMNIA. One on's father's moods. |
VALERIA. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. |
VIRGILIA. A crack, madam. |
VALERIA. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the |
idle huswife with me this afternoon. |
VIRGILIA. No, good madam; I will not out of doors. |
VALERIA. Not out of doors! |
VOLUMNIA. She shall, she shall. |
VIRGILIA. Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the threshold |
till my lord return from the wars. |
VALERIA. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably; come, you |
must go visit the good lady that lies in. |
VIRGILIA. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my |
prayers; but I cannot go thither. |
VOLUMNIA. Why, I pray you? |
VIRGILIA. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. |
VALERIA. You would be another Penelope; yet they say all the yarn |
she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill 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. |
VIRGILIA. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed I will not forth. |
VALERIA. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news |
of your husband. |
VIRGILIA. O, good madam, there can be none yet. |
VALERIA. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him |
last night. |
VIRGILIA. Indeed, madam? |
VALERIA. 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. |
VIRGILIA. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in everything |
hereafter. |
VOLUMNIA. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease |
our better mirth. |
VALERIA. In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. Come, |
good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o' |
door and go along with us. |
VIRGILIA. No, at a word, madam; indeed I must not. I wish you much |
mirth. |
VALERIA. Well then, farewell. Exeunt |
SCENE IV. |
Before Corioli |
Enter MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, with drum and colours, |
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