Com. You have fought together.

Sic. Be-mock the modest moon.

Bru. The present wars devour him: he is grown

Too proud to be so valiant.
Sic. Such a nature,

Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
Which he treads on at noon: But I do wonder,
His insolence can brook to be commanded
Under Cominius.

Bru. Fame, at the which he aims,In whom already he is well grac'd, cannot Better be held, nor more attain'd, than by A place below the first: for what miscarries Shall be the general's fault, though he perform To the utmost of a man; and giddy censure Will then cry out of Marcius, O, if he Had borne the business!

Sic. Besides, if things go well, Opinion, that so sticks on Marcius, shall Of his demerits rob Cominius.

Bru. Come:

Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,

and he

Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make

Only my wars with him: he is a lion
That I am proud to hunt.

1 Sen. Then, worthy Marcius,

Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
Com. It is your former promise.
Mar. Sir, it is;

And I am constant.-Titus Lartius, thou
Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face:
What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?

Tit. No, Caius Marcius;

I'll lean upon one crutch, and fight with the other, Ere stay behind this business.

faults

To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed, In aught he merit not.

Sic. Let's hence, and hear

How the despatch is made; and in what fashion, More than in singularity, he goes

Upon his present action.

Bru. Let's along.

SCENE II.-Corioli.

[Exeunt.

The Senate-House.

Enter TITUS AUFIDIUS, and certain Senators.

1 Sen. So, your opinion is, Aufidius, That they of Rome are enter'd in our counsels, And know how we proceed.

Auf. Is it not yours?

What ever hath been thought on in this state,
That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome
Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone,
Since I heard thence; these are the words: I
think,

I have the letter here; yes, here it is: [Reads.
They have press'd a power, but it is not known
Whether for east, or west: The dearth is great;
The people mutinous: and it is rumour'd,
Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,
(Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
These three lead on this preparation,
Whither 'tis bent: most likely, 'tis for you:
Consider of it.

1 Sen. Our army's in the field: We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready

Auf. Nor did you think it folly,

To keep your great pretences veil'd, till when They needs must show themselves; which in the hatching,

It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery

We shall be shorten'd in our aim; which was, To take in many towns, ere, almost, Rome Should know we were afoot.

2 Sen. Noble Aufidius,

Take your commission; hie you to your bands: Let us alone to guard Corioli:

If they set down before us, for the remove Bring up your army; but, I think, you'll find They have not prepar'd for us.

Auf. O, doubt not that;

I speak from certainties. Nay, more,
Some parcels of their powers are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
'Tis sworn between us, we shall never strike,
Till one can do no more.

All. The gods assist you!

Auf. And keep your honours safe!

1 Sen. Farewell.

2 Sen. Farewell.

All. Farewell.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Rome. An apartment in MARCIUS' house.

Enter VOLUMNIA, and VIRGILIA: They sit down on two low stools, and sew.

Vol. I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a more comfortable sort: If my son were my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour, than in the embracements of his bed, where he would show most love. When yet he was but tenderbodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way; when, for a day of kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding; I,-considering how honour would become such a person; that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir, -was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned, 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.

Vir. But had he died in the business, madam? how then?

Vol. 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.

Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum;
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair;
As children from a bear, the Volces 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.

Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood! Vol. 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 swords contending.-Tell Valeria, We are fit to bid her welcome. [Exit Gent. Vir. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius ! Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee, And tread upon his neck.

Re-enter Gentlewoman, with VALERIA and her
Usher.

Val. My ladies both, good day to you.
Vol. Sweet madam,-

Vir. I am glad to see your ladyship.

Val. How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. What, are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith.-How does your little son?

Vir. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. Vol. He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his school-master.

Val. O'my word, the father's son: I'll swear, 'tis a very pretty boy. O'my troth, I looked upon him o'Wednesday half an hour together: he has such a confirmed 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 catched it again: or whether his fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth, and tear it; O, I warrant, how he mammocked it! Vol. One of his father's moods. Val. Indeed la, 'tis a noble child. Vir. A crack, madam.

Val. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the idle huswife with me this af

ternoon.

Vir. No, good madam; I will not out of doors.

Val. Not out of doors!

Vol. She shall, she shall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience: I will not over the threshold, till my lord return from the

wars.

Val. Fye, you confine yourself most unreasonably; Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.

Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither. Vol. Why, I pray you?

Vir. "Tisnot to save labour, nor that I want love.

Val. 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.

Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

Vir. O, good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, madam?

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is:-The Volces 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.

SCENE IV.-Before Corioli.

[Exeunt.

Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Officers, and Soldiers. To them a Messenger.

They sound a parley. Enter, on the walls, some 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 Alarums 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; [Other alarums. work he makes

There is Aufidius; list, what
Amongst your cloven army.
Mar. O, they are at it!
Lart. Their noise be our instruction.-Lad-
ders, ho!

The Volces 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 Volce,
And he shall feel mine edge.

Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting.
The Romans are beaten back to their trenches.
Re-enter MARCIUS,

Mar. All the contagion of the south light on

Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorr'd

have met.

as yet.

Lart. So, the good horse is mine.

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. How far off lie these armies?
Mess. 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.

Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, 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 followed.

Another alarum. The Volces and Romans reenter, and the fight is renewed. The Volces 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 flyers: mark me, and do the like. [He enters the gates, and is shut in.

Who, sensible, 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.

Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the
Enemy.

1 Sol. Look, sir.

Lart. 'Tis Marcius:

Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. [They fight, and all enter the city.

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 still continues 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.

Lart. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;

Thy exercise hath been too violent for

A second course of fight.

Mart. Sir, praise me not:

May give you thankful sacrifice!-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.

Com. 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 could'st thou in a mile confound an hour, And bring thy news so late?

Mess. Spies of the Volces

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.

a tabor,

well.

VOL. II.

Mar. Come I too late?

S