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 labor, 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 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 honor; 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. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Before Corioli. Enter, with drum and colors, 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? 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. Mess. They sound a parley. Enter, on the walls, some Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls? 1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he,2 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 pinned with rushes; They'll open of themselves. Hark you, far off; 1 i. e. our friends who are in the field. [Other alarums. 2 The Poet means- -No, nor a man that fears you more than he; but he often entangles himself in the use of less and more. There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes 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 plagues -Boils and Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorred With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge home, Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe, 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. All. Slain, sir, doubtless. 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, Clapped-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 Even to Cato's wish,2 not fierce and terrible Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and 1 The old copy reads: "Who sensibly outdares." Sensible is here having sensation. Though Coriolanus has the feeling of pain like other men, he is more hardy in daring exploits than his senseless sword; for after it is bent, he yet stands firm in the field. 2 The old copy has, erroneously, "Calues wish;" the error would easily arise: Shakspeare wrote, according to the mode of his time, "Catoes wish," omitting to cross the t, and forming the o inaccurately. Cato was not born till after the death of Coriolanus; but the Poet was led into the anachronism by following Plutarch. Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy. 1 Sol. Lart. Look, sir. 'Tis Marcius: Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.1 [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 2 At a cracked drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, Lart. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; Thy exercise hath been too violent for A second course of fight. 1 "Make remain, is an old manner of speaking, which means no more than remain." 2 i. e. their time. Johnson adopted Pope's reading-honors. |