|ACT I SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces.
A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS,
bloody, with two or three Soldiers
|The town is ta'en!
|'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.
|I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
|Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
|What good condition can a treaty find
|I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
|I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,
|And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
|As often as we eat. By the elements,
|If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
|He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation
|Hath not that honour in't it had; for where
|I thought to crush him in an equal force,
|True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way
|Or wrath or craft may get him.
|He's the devil.
|Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
|With only suffering stain by him; for him
|Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
|Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
|The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
|Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
|Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
|My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
|At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
|Against the hospitable canon, would I
|Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
|Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
|Be hostages for Rome.
|Will not you go?
|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.