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Thou shouldst not scape me here.
[They fight, and certain Volsces come in the
aid of Aufidius. Marcius fights till they
be driven in breathless. Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me In your condemned seconds.
Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded.
Flourish. Enter, from one side, COMINIUS
with the Romans; from the other side, MAR-
CIUS, with his arm in a scarf.
Com. If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's
Thou 'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I 'll report it
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles ;
Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
l' the end admire; where ladies shall be frighted,
And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the dull
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
Shall say against their hearts ‘We thank the gods
Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast,
Having fully dined before.
Enter Titus LARTIUS, with his power, from
the pursuit. Lart.
Here is the steed, we the caparison :
Hadst thou beheld
Pray now, no more: my mother,
15. condemned seconds, damnable seconding.
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
As you have done ; that's what I can ; induced
As you have been; that's for my country:
He that has but effected his good will
Hath overta'en mine act.
You shall not be
The grave of your deserving ; Rome must know
The value of her own : 'twere a concealment
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would seem but modest : therefore, I beseech you-
In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done-before our army hear me.
Mar. I have some wounds upon me, and they
To hear themselves remember'd.
Should they not,
Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
Whereof we have ta’en good and good store, of all
The treasure in this field achieved and city,
We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at
Your only choice.
I thank you, general;
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
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 wash'd
My nose that bled, or foild 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.
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 manacles,
Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it
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.
[ All. Caius Marcius Coriolanus ! Cor. I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush, or no: howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
To undercrest your good addition
To the fairness of my power.
So, to our tent;
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good and ours.
I shall, my lord.
Cor. The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
Of my lord general.
Take't ; 'tis yours. What is 't?
Cor. I sometime lay here in Corioli
At a poor man's house ; he used me kindly :
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity : I request you
To give my poor host freedom.
O, well begg'd!
Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
Lart. Marcius, his name?
By Jupiter ! forgot, go
I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.
Have we no wine here?
Go we to our tent: The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time It should be look'd to: come.
72. undercrest, to wear the ability.' title as a crest. "To justify the 77. articulate, negociate for cognomen to the best of my peace.
A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS,
bloody, with two or three Soldiers. Auf. The town is ta'en ! First Sol. 'Twill be deliver'd back on good
condition. Auf. 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 l' 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. First Sol.
He's the devil. Auf. Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's
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,
Embarguements all of fury, shall lift up