you

but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would, your cambrick were sensible as your finger, that 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 every thing 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'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Before Corioli.

Enter, with Drums and Colours, MARCIUS, TITUS, LARTIUS, Officers, and Soldiers. To them a Messenger.

Mar. Yonder comes news:-A wager, they have

met.

Lart. My horse to yours, no.

Mar.

Lart.

"Tis done.

Agreed.

Mar. Say, has our general met the enemy? Mess. They lie in view; but have not spoke as

yet

Lart. So, the good horse is mine.

Mar.

I'll buy him of you. Lart. No, I'll nor sell, nor give him: lend you him, I will,

For half a hundred years.-Summon the town.
Mar. How far off lie these armies?

Mess.

Within this mile and half.

Mar. Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they

ours.

Now, Mars, I pr'ythee, make us quick in work; That we with smoking swords may march from hence, To help our fielded friends!'-Come, blow thy blast.

They sound a Parley. Enter, on the Walls, some Senators, and others.

Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls?

1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he,

battle.

fielded friends!] i. e. our friends who are in the field of

That's lesser than a little. Hark, our drums

[Alarums afar off. 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. Hark you, far off;

[Other Alarums.

There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes
Amongst your cloven army.

Mar.

O, they are at it!

Lart. Their noise be our instruction.-Ladders,

ho!

The Volces enter and pass over the Stage.

Mar. They fear us not, but issue forth their city. 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;

He that retires, I'll take him for a Volce,
And he shall feel mine edge.

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 abhorr'd
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:

"Tis for the followers fortune widens them, Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.

[He enters the Gates, and is shut in.

1 Sol. Fool-hardiness; not I.

1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels,
With them he enters: who, upon the sudden,
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, Mar-

cius:

A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,

Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier

Who, sensible,] Sensible is here, having sensation

Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,

Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous, and did tremble.

Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy.

1 Sol. Lart.

Look, sir.

"Tis Marcius:

Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, 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 continues still afar off.

Enter MARCIUS, and TITUS LARTIUS, with a Trumpet.

Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their

hours

At a crack'd 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 Convenient numbers to make good the city;