Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 138

by William Shakespeare


  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 IV. 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 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!

  Exeunt

  SCENE VI. NEAR THE CAMP OF COMINIUS.

  Enter Cominius, a
s it were in retire, with soldiers

  Cominius

  Breathe you, my friends: well fought; we are come off

  Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,

  Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,

  We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck,

  By interims and conveying gusts we have heard

  The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods!

  Lead their successes as we wish our own,

  That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering,

  May give you thankful sacrifice.

  Enter a Messenger

  Thy news?

  Messenger

  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.

  Cominius

  Though thou speak’st truth,

  Methinks thou speak’st not well.

  How long is’t since?

  Messenger

  Above an hour, my lord.

  Cominius

  ’Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums:

  How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,

  And bring thy news so late?

  Messenger

  Spies of the Volsces

  Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel

  Three or four miles about, else had I, sir,

  Half an hour since brought my report.

  Cominius

  Who’s yonder,

  That does appear as he were flay’d? O gods

  He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have

  Before-time seen him thus.

  Marcius

  [Within] Come I too late?

  Cominius

  The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour

  More than I know the sound of Marcius’ tongue

  From every meaner man.

  Enter Marcius

  Marcius

  Come I too late?

  Cominius

  Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,

  But mantled in your own.

  Marcius

  O, let me clip ye

  In arms as sound as when I woo’d, in heart

  As merry as when our nuptial day was done,

  And tapers burn’d to bedward!

  Cominius

  Flower of warriors,

  How is it with Titus Lartius?

  Marcius

  As with a man busied about decrees:

  Condemning some to death, and some to exile;

  Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other;

  Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

  Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,

  To let him slip at will.

  Cominius

  Where is that slave

  Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?

  Where is he? call him hither.

  Marcius

  Let him alone;

  He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen,

  The common file — a plague! tribunes for them!—

  The mouse ne’er shunn’d the cat as they did budge

  From rascals worse than they.

  Cominius

  But how prevail’d you?

  Marcius

  Will the time serve to tell? I do not think.

  Where is the enemy? are you lords o’ the field?

  If not, why cease you till you are so?

  Cominius

  Marcius,

  We have at disadvantage fought and did

  Retire to win our purpose.

  Marcius

  How lies their battle? know you on which side

  They have placed their men of trust?

  Cominius

  As I guess, Marcius,

  Their bands i’ the vaward are the Antiates,

  Of their best trust; o’er them Aufidius,

  Their very heart of hope.

  Marcius

  I do beseech you,

  By all the battles wherein we have fought,

  By the blood we have shed together, by the vows

  We have made to endure friends, that you directly

  Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates;

  And that you not delay the present, but,

  Filling the air with swords advanced 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 inclined.

  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 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 the Roman camp conduct us.

  Exeunt

  SCENE VIII. A FIELD OF BATTLE.

  Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, Marcius and Aufidius

  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,

  Holloa me like a hare.

  Marcius

  Within these three hours, Tullus,

  Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,

  And made what work I pleased: ’tis not my blood

  Wherein thou seest me mask’d; for thy revenge

  Wrench up thy power to the highest.

  Aufidius

  Wert thou the Hector

  That was the whip of your bragg’d progeny,

  Thou shouldst not scape me here.

  They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of Aufidius. Marcius fights till they be driven in breathless

  Officious, and not valian
t, you have shamed me

  In your condemned seconds.

  Exeunt

  SCENE IX. THE ROMAN CAMP.

  Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, from one side, Cominius with the Romans; from the other side, Marcius, with his arm in a scarf

  Cominius

  If I should tell thee o’er this thy day’s work,

  Thou’ldst not believe thy deeds: but I’ll report it

  Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,

  Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,

  I’ the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,

  And, gladly quaked, 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 camest thou to a morsel of this feast,

  Having fully dined 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; induced

  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

  Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,

  To hide your doings; and to silence that,

  Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch’d,

  Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you

  In sign of what you are, not to reward

  What you have done — before our army hear me.

  Marcius

  I have some wounds upon me, and they smart

  To hear themselves remember’d.

  Cominius

  Should they not,

  Well might they fester ’gainst ingratitude,

  And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,

  Whereof we have ta’en good and good store, of all

  The treasure in this field achieved and city,

  We render you the tenth, to be ta’en forth,

  Before the common distribution, at

  Your only choice.

  Marcius

  I thank you, general;

  But cannot make my heart consent to take

  A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;

 

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