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. There is Aufidius; list what work he makes Amongst your cloven army. Mar. O, they are at it! Lart. Their noise be our instruction. - Ladders, 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, Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting. The Romans are beaten back to their trenches. Re-enter MARTIUS. Mar. All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, you coward souls of geese, That bear the shapes of men, how have you run From slaves that apes would beat? Pluto and hell! VOL. VIII. L All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale And make my wars on you: look to't: Come on, Another Alarum. The Volces and Romans re-enter, 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 fliers: mark me, and do the like. [He enters the gates, and is shut in. 1 Sol. Fool-hardiness; not I. Lart. What is become of Marcius? All. Slain, sir, doubtless. 1 Sol. 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. Lart. O noble fellow ! Who, sensibly', outdares his senseless sword, A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier I Having sensation, feeling. Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and Re-enter MARCIUS bleeding, assaulted by the enemy. 1 Sol. Lart. Look, sir. 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 continues still afar off. Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their hours At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, them. And hark, what noise the general makes! To him: : There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, 3 A Roman coin. 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 Mar. Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus well. Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms Misguide thy opposer's swords! Bold gentleman, Prosperity be thy page! Mar. Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So farewell. Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius! [Exit MARCIUS. Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; Call thither all the officers of the town, Where they shall know our mind: Away. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Near the Camp of Cominius. Enter COMINIUS and Forces, retreating. Com. Breathe you, my friends; well fought, we are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, Lead their successes as we wish our own; That both our powers, with smiling fronts encoun tering, Enter a Messenger. May give you thankful sacrifice! Thy news? Mess. The citizens of Corioli have issued, 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: 4 How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour, Mess. Com. Enter MARCius. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods! Mar. Come I too late? Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor, More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue From every meaner man's. Mar. Come I too late? ♦ Expend. |