Complete Plays, The
Page 138
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;