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Vir. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee, And tread upon his neck.

Re-enter Gentlewoman, with VALERIA and her
Usher.

Val. My ladies both, good day to you.
Vol. Sweet madam,-

Vir. I am glad to see your ladyship.

Val. How do you both? you are manifest 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 swords and hear a drum, than look upon his schoolmaster.

Val. O'my word, the father's son. I'll swear 't is a very pretty boy: o' my troth, I looked upon him o' Wednesday half an hour together. He has such a confirmed countenance! I saw 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; catched it again or whether his fall enraged him, or

how 't was, he did so set his teeth and tear it: O, I warrant, how he mammocked it!

Vol. One of his father's moods.
Val. Indeed la, 't is 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 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 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' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come: I would your cambric were sensible as your finger, that

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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 excellent news of your husband.

Vir. O, 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 Volces 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 everything 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’y thee, 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, farewell.

SCENE IV. Before Corioli.

[Exeunt.

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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 abhorred
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 MARCIUS follows them to the gates. So, now the gates are ope. Now prove good seconds:

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Enter certain Romans, with spoils. 1st Rom. This will I carry to Rome. 2nd Rom. And I this.

3rd Rom. A murrain on 't! I took this for silver. [Alarum still continues afar off.

Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS, with a trumpet.

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

At a cracked drachm!-Cushions, leaden spoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen 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 him.

There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, Piercing our Romans. Then, valiant Titus, take

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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 charged 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 en-
countering,

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

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.

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[They all shout, and wave their swords; take him
up in their arms, and cast up their caps.
O me, alone! Make you a sword of me?
If these shows be not outward, which of you
But is four Volces? None of you but is
Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number
(Though thanks to all) must I select from all :
The rest shall bear the business in some other fight,
As cause will be obeyed.-Please you to march;
And four shall quickly draw out my command,
Which men are best inclined.

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Mar. Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleased. "Tis not my
blood
Wherein thou seest me masked: for thy revenge,
Wrench up thy power to the highest.
Wert thou the Hector

Auf.
That was the whip of your bragged progeny,
Thou shouldst not 'scape me here.—

[They fight, and certain Volces come to the aid of AUFidius. Officious, and not valiant-you have shamed me In your condemned seconds.

[Exeunt fighting, driven in by MARCIUS.

SCENE IX.-The Roman Camp.

Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter at one side, COMINIUS and Romans: at the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans.

Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, Thou 'lt not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles: Where great patricians shall attend and shrug; I' the end, admire: where ladies shall be frighted, And, gladly quaked, hear more: where the dull Tribunes,

That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, Shall say, against their hearts,-" We thank the

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But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it,
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing.

[A long flourish. They all cry, "MARCIUS! MARCIUS!" cast up their caps and lances. COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare. Mar. May these same instruments, which you profane,

Never sound more!-When drums and trumpets shall

I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-faced soothing! When steel grows
Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made
An overture for the wars!-No more, I say!-
For that I have not washed my nose that bled,
Or foiled some debile wretch (which, without note,
Here's many else have done), you shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical:

As if I loved my little should be dieted
In praises sauced with lies.

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 incensed, we 'll put you
(Like one that means his proper harm) in ma-

nacles;

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 his trim belonging: and from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
"Caius Marcius Coriolanus!"-

Bear the addition nobly ever.

[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums.

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