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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, And he shall feel mine edge. Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting. The

Romans are beaten back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS.

Mar. 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 Volces and Romans re-enter,

and the fight is renewed. The Volces retire into

Corioli, and MAReius follows them to the gates. So, now the gates' are ope:– Now prove good se.

conds: '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.
2 Sol.,

Nor I. 3 Sol.

See, they Have shut him in.

[ Alarum continues, Al.

To the pot, I warrant him.

Enter Titus LARTIUS.

Lart. What is become of Marcius?

Slain, sir, doubtless.
.] 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.

O noble fellow!
Who, sensible, outdares his senseless sword,
And, when it bows, stands up! Thou art left, Mar.

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 mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world
Were feverous, and did tremble.

Re-enter Marcius, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy. 1 Sol.

Look, sir. Lart.

'Tis Marcius: Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, and all enter the city. SCENE V.

JVithin the toun. A Street.

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Enter certain Romans,, with spoils. 1 Rom. This will I carry to Rome. 2 kom. And I this. 3 Roin. A murrain on't! I took this for silver.

[Alarum continues still afar off.

Enter MARCIUS, and Titus LARTIUS, with a

trumpet. Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their

hours 11 At a crack'd dram! Cushions, leaden spoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hanğmen 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


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.

Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent for
A second course of fight.

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Sir, praise me not:
My work hath yet not warm’d me: Fare you

The blood I drop is rather physical
Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus
I will appear, and fight.

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!

Thy friend no less Than those she plaçeth 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. [E.reunt.


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, Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck, By interims, and conveying gusts, we have heard The charges of our friends :- The Roman gods, Lead their successes as we wish our own; That both our powers, with smiling fronts encount'ring,

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Enter a Messenger.
May give you thankful sacrifice !--Thy news?

Mess. The citizens of Corioli have issued,
And given to Lartius and to Mareius battle:
I saw our party to their trenches driven,
And then I came away.

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:
How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour,
And bring thy news so laté ?

Spies of the Volces
Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel
Three or four miles about; else had I, sir,
Half an hour since brought my report.



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 thús.

Come I too late?
Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a

More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue
From every meaner man's.

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