Act I.]
CORIOLANUS.
273
1 Sol. Fool-hardiness ; not I.
3 Sol. Nor I.
3 Sol. See, they
Have shut him in. £ Alarum continues.
All. To the pot, 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,j Clapp’d-to their gates ; he is himself alone,
To answer all the city.
Lart. O noble fellow !
Who, sensible, outdares his senseless sword,And, when it bows, stands up! Thou art left,> Marcius:
' A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,j Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier! Even to Cato’s wish, not fierce and terribleI Only in strokes ; but, with thy grim looks, andj ' The tliunder-like percussion of thy sounds,
I Thou mad’st thine enemies shake, as if the world1 Were feverous, and did tremble.
Re-enter Marcius, bleeding-, assaulted by theEnemy.
1 Sol, Look, sir.
Lart. ’Tis Marcius:
Let’s fetch him off, or make remain alike.
\fThcy Jight, and all enter the city.
SCENE V.— Within the town. A street.
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 silver.[\Alarum still continues afar off.
Enter Marcius, and Titus Lartius, with aTrumpet ,
Mar. See here these movers, that do prizetheir hours
At a crack’d drachm ! Cushions, leaden spoons,Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen wouldBury with those thatwore them, these base slaves,Ere yet the fight be done, pack up:—Downwith them.—
And hark, what noise the general makes!—Tohim:—
There is the man of my soul’s hate, Aufidius,Piercing our Romans: Then, valiant Titus, takeConvenient numbers to make good the city ;Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, willhaste
To help Cominius.
Lart. Worthy sir, thou bleed’st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent forA second course of fight.
Mart. Sir, praise me not:
My work hath not yet warm’d me: Fare youwell.
VOL. II.
The blood I drop is rather physicalThan dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus ’
I will appear, and fight.
Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
Fall deep in love with thee; and her greatcharms
Misguide thy opposers’ swords! Bold gentleman,Prosperity be thy page !
Mar. Thy friend no lessThan those she placeth highest f 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.
{^Exeunt.
SCENE VI.— 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 havestruck,
By interims, and conveying gusts, we have heardThe charges of our friends:—The Roman godsLead their successes as we wish our own;
That both our powers, with smiling fronts en-countering,
Enter a Messenger.
May give you thankful sacrifice!—Thy news ?
Mess. 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.
Com. Though thou speak’st truth,
Methinks, thou speak’st not well. How longis’t since ?
Mess. Above an hour, my lord.
Com. ’Tis not a mile ; briefly we heard theirdrums:
How could’st thou in a mile confound an hour,And bring thy news so late ?
Mess. Spies of the VoicesHeld me in chase, that I was forc’d to wheelThree or four miles about; else had I, sir,
Half an hour since brought my report.
Enter Marcius.
Com. Who’s yonder,
That does appear as he were flay’d ? O gods!
He has the stamp of Marcius ; and I haveBefore-time seen him thus.
Mar. Come I too late ?
Com. The shepherd knows not thunder froma tabor,
More than I know the sound of Marcius’ tongueFrom every meaner man’s.
Mar. Come I too late ?
S