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 the 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.
Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman
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 house-keepers.
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 school-master.
VALERIA 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: 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 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 it, how he mammocked
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 husewife 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 every
thing 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 4
Before Corioli.
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 5
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,