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Vir. His bloody brow! oh, Jupiter, no blood !

Vol. Away, you fool; it more becomes a man,
Than Gilt his trophy. The breast of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Heftor, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead, when it fpit forth blood
At Grecian swords contending; tell Valeria,
We are fit to bid her welcome.

[Exit Gent. Vir. Heav'ns bless my Lord from fell Aufidius !

Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee, And tread upon his neck.

Enter Valeria with an Usher, and a Gentlewoman.
Val. My Ladies Both, good day to you.
Vol. Sweet Madam
Vir. I am glad to see your Ladyship
Val. How do


both ? you are manifeft Housekeepers. What are you sewing here? a fine spot, in good faith. How does your little Son ?

Vir. I thank your Ladyship: well, good Madam.

Vol He had rather see the fwords, and hear a drum, than look upon his schoolmaster.

Val. O' my word, the Father's Son: I'll swear, 'tis a very pretty boy. Omy troth, I look'd on him o' Wednesday half an hour together — h'as such a confirm'd countenance. I osaw 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 up again; and caught it again; or wheth his Fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth, and did tear it; oh, I warrant, how he mammockt it!

Vol. One of's Father's moods.
Val. Indeed, la, 'tis a noble Child.
Vir. A crack, Madam).

Val. Come, lay aside your Stitchery; I must have you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon.

Vir. No, good Madam, I will not out of doors.
Val. Not out of doors !
Vol. She shall, she shall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the threshould, 'till my Lord return from the wars.

Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably : Come, you must go visit'the good Lady that lies in.

Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers ; but I cannot go thither.

Vol. Why, I pray you?
Vir. 'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.

Val. You would be another Penelope; yet they say, all the yarn, she spun in Ulysses's absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come, I would,

Come, I would, your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come you shall go with us.

Vir. No, good Madam, pardon me ; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me, and I'll tell you cellent news of your Husband.

Vir. Oh, good Madam, there can be none yet.

Val. Verily, I do not jest with you ; there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, Madam

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a Senator speak it. Thus it is - The Volscians 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 my honour; and so, I pray, go


with us.

Vir. Give me excuse, good Madam, I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

Vol. Let her alone, Lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.

Val. In troth, I think, she would: fare you well, then. Come, good sweet Lady. Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy Solemness out o'door, and go along with us. Vir. No: at a word, Madam ; indeed, I must not.

I wish


I wish you much mirth.
Val. Well, then farewel.

[Exeunt. S CE N E VII.

Changes to the Walls of Corioli.
Enter Marcius, Titus Lartius, with Captains and

Soldiers : To them a Messenger.

ONDER comes news: a wager, they have
Lart. My horse to yours, no.
Mar. 'Tis done.
Lart, Agreed.
Mar. Say, has our General met the enemy?
Mes. They lie in view ; but have not spoke as yet.
Lart. So, the good horse is mine.
Mar. I'll buy him of you.
Lart. No, I'll not sell, nor give him: lend him

you, I will,
For half an hundred years : Summon the Town.

Mar: How far off lie these armies ?
Mes. Within a mile and half.

Mar. Then shall we hear their larum, and they ours. Now, Mars, I prythee, make us quick in work ; That we with smoaking swords may march from hence, To help our fielded Friends ! Come, blow thy blaft. They found a Parley. Enter two senators with others

on the Walls, Tullus Aufidius, is he within your

Walls ? i Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he, That's lesser than a little : hark, our drums

[Drum 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

[Alarm, far off


There is Aufidius. List, what work he makes
Among your cloven army.

Mar. Oh, they are at it!
Lart. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!

Enter the Volscians.
Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their City.
Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight
With hearts more proofthan shields. Advance, brave

They do disdain us 'much beyond our thoughts ;
Which niakes me sweat with wrath.

Come on my
He that retires, I'll take him for a Volscian,
And he shall feel mine edge.

[Alarm; the Romans beat back to their Trenches.



Re-enter Marcius. Mar. ALL the Contagion of the South light on You shames of Roine, you!-herds of boils and

plagues Plaister you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd Farther than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!--you fouls 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 Alarm, and Marcius follows them to the gates. So now the gates are ope: now prove good feconds;

'Tis for the followers, fortune widens them ; Not for the fliers : mark me, and do the like.

[He enters the gates, and is fhut in. i Sol. Fool-hardiness, not I. 2 Sol. Nor I. 3 Sol. See, they have shut him in.

[Alarm continues. All. To th'


I warrant him.

Enter Titus Lartius.
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,
Clapt to their gates; he is himself alone,
To answer all the City.

Lart, Oh, noble fellow!
Who, sensible, out-does his senseless sword,
And, when it bows, stands up: thou art left, Marcius-
A carbuncle intire, as big as thou árt,
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 founds,
Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.

Enter Marcius bleeding, asaulted by the Enemy. 1 Sol. Look, Sir.

Lart. O, 'tis Marciús.
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, and all enter the City.
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 Gilver.

[Alarm continues still afar off.


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