Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience: I will not over the threshold, 'till my lord return from the wars. Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies inVir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither. 433 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' absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would, your cambrick were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with 441 us. Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; Indeed, I will not forth. Val. In truth la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband. Vir. O, good madam, there can be none yet. Val. Vérily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night. Vir. Indeed, madam! 449 Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is:-The Volsces 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 mine 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. 461 Val. In troth, I think, she would:-Fare you well then.-Come, good sweet lady.-Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemnness out o' door, and go along with us. Vir. No: at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth. Val. Well, then farewel. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Before Corioli. Enter MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, with Drum and Colours, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger. Mar. Yonder comes news:-A wager, they have met. Lart. My horse to your's, no. Mar. 'Tis done. Lart. Agreed. Mar. Say, has our general met the enemy? 470 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 you him, I will, For For half a hundred years.-Summon the town. Mar. How far off lie these armies ? Mes. Within this mile and half. 480 Mar. Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work; They sound a Parley. Enter Senators, with others, on 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 [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; 490 [Alarum far off. 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! Enter the Volsces. Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city. Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight 1 With hearts more proof than shields. brave Titus : Advance, 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. 500 [Alarum; the Romans beat back to their Trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS. Mar. All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome, you! Herds of boils and plagues Plaster you o'er that you may be abhorr'd Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, home, charge 511 Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe, Another Alarum, and MARCIUS follows them to the 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. Enter TITUS LARTIUS. Lart. What is become of Marcius? 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, Lart. O noble fellow ! Who, sensible, out-dares his senseless sword, 530 And, when it bows, stands up! Thou art left, Mar cius: A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world 3 Re-enter |