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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. |
COMINIUS. 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. |
MARCIUS. 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's dearer than himself; |
Let him alone, or so many so minded, |
Wave thus to express his disposition, |
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 to march; |
And four shall quickly draw out my command, |
Which men are best inclin'd. |
COMINIUS. 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, other soldiers, |
and a scout |
LARTIUS. So, let the ports be guarded; keep your duties |
As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch |
Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve |
For a short holding. If we lose the field |
We cannot keep the town. |
LIEUTENANT. Fear not our care, sir. |
LARTIUS. Hence, and shut your gates upon's. |
Our guider, come; to th' Roman camp conduct us. Exeunt |
SCENE VIII. |
A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps |
Alarum, as in battle. Enter MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS at several doors |
MARCIUS. I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee |
Worse than a promise-breaker. |
AUFIDIUS. We hate alike: |
Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor |
More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. |
MARCIUS. Let the first budger die the other's slave, |
And the gods doom him after! |
AUFIDIUS. If I fly, Marcius, |
Halloa me like a hare. |
MARCIUS. Within these three hours, Tullus, |
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, |
And made what work I pleas'd. 'Tis not my blood |
Wherein thou seest me mask'd. For thy revenge |
Wrench up thy power to th' highest. |
AUFIDIUS. Wert thou the Hector |
That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, |
Thou shouldst not scape me here. |
Here they fight, and certain Volsces come in the aid |
of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in |
breathless |
Officious, and not valiant, you have sham'd me |
In your condemned seconds. Exeunt |
SCENE IX. |
The Roman camp |
Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Enter, at one door, |
COMINIUS with the Romans; at another door, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf |
COMINIUS. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, |
Thou't not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it |
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; |
Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug, |
I' th' end admire; where ladies shall be frighted |
And, gladly quak'd, hear more; where the dull tribunes, |
That with the fusty plebeians hate thine honours, |
Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods |
Our Rome hath such a soldier.' |
Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast, |
Having fully din'd before. |
Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit |
LARTIUS. O General, |
Here is the steed, we the caparison. |
Hadst thou beheld- |
MARCIUS. Pray now, no more; my mother, |
Who has a charter to extol her blood, |
When she does praise me grieves me. I have done |
As you have done- that's what I can; induc'd |
As you have been- that's for my country. |
He that has but effected his good will |
Hath overta'en mine act. |
COMINIUS. You shall not be |
The grave of your deserving; Rome must know |
The value of her own. 'Twere a concealment |
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