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Make good this ostentation, and you shall
SCENE VII. The Gates of CORIOLI.
TITUS LARTIUS, having set a Guard upon CORIOLI, going with a Drum and Trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with a Lieutenant, a Party of Soldiers, and a Scout.
Lart. So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties, As I bave set them down. If I do send, despatch Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve For a short holding: If we lose the field, We cannot keep the town.
Fear not our care, sir.
Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon us.
[Exeunt. SCENE VIII. A Field of Battle between the Roman and the Volscian Camps.
Alarum. Enter MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS.
Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee Worse than a promise-breaker.
Not Áfric owns a serpent, I abhor
We hate alike;
More than thy fame and envy: Fix thy foot.
Halloo me like a hare.
If I fly, Marcius,
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleas'd; "Tis not my blood,
Wert thou the Hector,
[They fight, and certain Volces come to the Aid
Officious, and not valiant-you have sham'd me
[Exeunt fighting, driven in by Marcius.
SCENE IX. The Roman Camp.
Alarum. A Retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter at
Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast,
Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his Power, from the
Here is the steed, we the caparison:
Hadst thou beheld
Pray now, no more: my mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
You shall not be
(In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done), before our army hear me.
Should they not,
Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Your only choice.
[A long Flourish. They all cry, Marcius! Marcius!
Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane,
As if I lov'd my little should be dieted
Com. Too modest are you; More cruel to your good report, than grateful To us that give you truly: by your patience, If 'gainst yourself you be incens'd, we'll put you (Like one that means his proper harm), in manacles, Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
Bear the addition nobly ever!
[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and Drums.
All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus!
Cor. 1 will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
To the fairness of my power.
So, to our tent:
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
Take it: 'tis yours.-What is't?
Cor. I sometime lay, here in Corioli,
At a poor man's house; he us'd me kindly:
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
O, well begg'd!
Were he the butcher of my son, he should
By Jupiter, forgot:
Go we to our tent:
I am weary; yea, my memory is tird'.-
The blood upon your visage dries: 'tis time
SCENE X. The Camp of the VOLCES.
A Flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers.
Auf. The town is ta'en!
1 Sol. "Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. Auf. Condition?—
I would, I were a Roman; for I cannot,
I'the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
(True sword to sword), I'll potch at him some way; Or wrath, or craft, may get him.
He's the devil.
Wash my fierce hand in his heart. Go you to the city;
Will not you go?
Auf. I am attended at the cypress grove:
I pray you
("Tis south the city mills), bring me word thither How the world goes; that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey.
I shall, sir.