Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger MARCIUS Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. LARTIUS My horse to yours, no. MARCIUS 'Tis done. LARTIUS Agreed. MARCIUS Say, has our general met the enemy? Messenger They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. LARTIUS So, the good horse is mine. MARCIUS I'll buy him of you. LARTIUS No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will For half a hundred years. Summon the town. MARCIUS How far off lie these armies? Messenger Within this mile and half. MARCIUS Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours.
Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, That we with smoking swords may march from hence, To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast.
They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? First Senator No, nor a man that fears you less than he, That's lesser than a little.
Drums afar off Hark! our drums 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.
Alarum afar off Hark you. far off!
There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes Amongst your cloven army. MARCIUS O, they are at it! LARTIUS Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!
Enter the army of the Volsces MARCIUS 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 Volsce, And he shall feel mine edge.
Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing MARCIUS All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen and one infect another 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 Volsces fly, 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.
Enters the gates First Soldier Fool-hardiness; not I. Second Soldier Nor I.
MARCIUS is shut in First Soldier See, they have shut him in. All To the pot, I warrant him.
Alarum continues Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS LARTIUS What is become of Marcius? All Slain, sir, doubtless. First Soldier 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. LARTIUS 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 madst thine enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous and did tremble.
Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy First Soldier Look, sir. LARTIUS O,'tis Marcius!
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.
They fight, and all enter the city SCENE V. Corioli. A street. Enter certain Romans, with spoils First Roman This will I carry to Rome. Second Roman And I this. Third Roman A murrain on't! I took this for silver.
Alarum continues still afar off Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet MARCIUS 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. LARTIUS Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent for A second course of fight. MARCIUS 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. LARTIUS 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! MARCIUS Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. LARTIUS Thou worthiest Marcius!
Exit MARCIUS Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers o' the town, Where they shall know our mind: away!
