| ACT I SCENE IV. Before Corioli. |
| [
Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS
LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a
Messenger
] |
| MARCIUS | Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. |
| LARTIUS | My horse to yours, no. |
| MARCIUS | 'Tis done. |
| LARTIUS | Agreed. |
| MARCIUS | Say, has our general met the enemy? | 5 |
| Messenger | They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. |
| LARTIUS | So, the good horse is mine. |
| MARCIUS | I'll buy him of you. |
| LARTIUS | No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will |
| For half a hundred years. Summon the town. | 10 |
| MARCIUS | How far off lie these armies? |
| Messenger | Within this mile and half. |
| MARCIUS | Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. |
| Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, |
| That we with smoking swords may march from hence, | 15 |
| To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast. |
[
They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others
on the walls
] |
| Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? |
| First Senator | No, nor a man that fears you less than he, |
| That's lesser than a little. |
[Drums afar off] |
| Hark! our drums | 20 |
| 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. |
[Alarum afar off] |
| Hark you. far off! | 25 |
| There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes |
| Amongst your cloven army. |
| MARCIUS | O, they are at it! |
| LARTIUS | Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! |
| [Enter the army of the Volsces] |
| MARCIUS | They fear us not, but issue forth their city. | 30 |
| Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight |
| With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, |
| brave Titus: |
| They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, |
| Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows: | 35 |
| He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, |
| And he shall feel mine edge. |
| [
Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their
trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing
] |
| MARCIUS | 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 abhorr'd | 40 |
| 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 | 45 |
| 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. | 50 |
[
Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS
follows them to the gates
] |
| So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: |
| 'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, |
| Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. |
| [Enters the gates] |
| First Soldier | Fool-hardiness; not I. |
| Second Soldier | Nor I. | 55 |
| [MARCIUS is shut in] |
| First Soldier | See, they have shut him in. |
| All | To the pot, I warrant him. |
| [Alarum continues] |
| [Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS] |
| LARTIUS | What is become of Marcius? |
| All | Slain, sir, doubtless. |
| First Soldier | Following the fliers at the very heels, | 60 |
| With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, |
| Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone, |
| To answer all the city. |
| LARTIUS | O noble fellow! |
| Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, | 65 |
| And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: |
| A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, |
| Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier |
| Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible |
| Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and | 70 |
| The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, |
| Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world |
| Were feverous and did tremble. |
| [Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy] |
| First Soldier | Look, sir. |
| LARTIUS | O,'tis Marcius! | 75 |
| Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. |
| [They fight, and all enter the city] |
Shakespeare's Sources for Coriolanus