Re-enter MARCIUS.

Mar. All the contagion of the fouth light on you, You fhames of Rome, you! Herds of boils and plagues

Plafter you o'er: that you may be abhorr'd
Farther than feen, and one infect another
Against the wind a mile: You fouls of geefe,
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
From flaves that apes would beat? Pluto and hell!
All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
With flightandagued 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, and MARCIUS follows them to the Gates.
So, now the gates are ope:-)
-Now prove good fe

conds:

'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,

Not for the fliers: Mark me, and do the like.

1 Sol. Fool hardinefs, not I.

2 Sol. Nor I.

[He enters the Gates.

3 Sol. See, they have fhut him in.

[Alarum continues.

All. To the pot, I warrant him.

Enter TITUS LARTIUS.

Lart. What is become of Marcius?

All. Slain, fir, doubtless.

Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, With them he enters: who, upon the fudden,

Clapt

Clapt to their gates; he is himself alone,
To answer all the city.

Lart. O noble fellow!

Who, fenfible, out-dares his fenfeless sword, And, when it bows, ftands up! Thou art left, MarA carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, [cius: Were not fo rich a jewel. Thou waft a foldier Even to Cato's wifh: not fierce and terrible Only in ftrokes; but, with thy grim looks, and The thunder-like percuffion of thy founds, Thou mad'ft thine enemies fhake, as if the world 1 Were feverous, and did tremble.

Re-enter MARCIUS bleeding, affaulted by the Enemy. 1 Sol. Look, fir.

Lart. O, 'tis Marcius:

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

[They fight, and all enter the City.

SCENE V. Within the Town:

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 filver. [Alarum continues ftill afar off.

Enter MARCIUS, and TITUS LARTIUS, with a Trum

pet.

Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their hours

At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden fpoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with thofe that wore them, these base slaves, с

Ere

Ere yet the fight be done, pack up :-Down with

them.

And hark, what noife the general makes!—To him:

There is the man of my foul's hate, Aufidius, Piercing our Romans: Then, valiant Titus, take Convenient numbers to make good the city; Whilft I, with thofe that have the spirit, will hafte To help Cominius.

Lart. Worthy fir, thou bleed'ft;

Thy exercife hath been too violent for
A fecond courfe of fight.

Mar. Sir, praise me not:

My work hath yet not warm'd me: Fare you well.
The blood I drop is rather phyfical

Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus
I will appear and fight.

Lart. Now the fair goddefs, Fortune,

charms

Fall deep in love with thee; and her great Mifguide thy oppofers' fwords! Bold gentleman, Profperity be thy page!

Mar. Thy friend no less

Than thofe the places higheft! So, farewell.
Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius!-

Go, found thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers of the town,
Where they fhall know our mind: Away. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The Roman Camp.

Enter COMINIUS retreating, with Soldiers. Com. Breathe you, my friends; well fought: we

are come off

Like Romans, neither foolifh in our stands,

Nor

Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, firs,

We fhall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck, By interims, and conveying gufts, we have heard The charges of our friends:-Ye Roman gods! Lead their fucceffes as we with our own;

That both our powers, with fmiling fronts encountering,

Enter a Meffenger.

May give you thankful facrifice!-Thy news?
Mef. The citizens of Corioli have iffued,
And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:
I faw our party to the trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Com. Though thou fpeak'ft truth,
Methinks, thou speak'ft not well.
Mef. Above an hour, my lord.

How long is't

[fince? Com. 'Tisnotamile: briefly we heard their drums: How could't thou in a mile confound an hour, And bring thy news fo late?

Mef. Spies of the Volfces

Held me in chafe, that I was forc'd to wheel
Three or four miles about; elfe had I, fir,
Half an hour fince brought my report.

Enter MARCIUS.

Com. Who's yonder,

That does appear as he were flead? O gods!
He has the ftamp of Marcius; and I have
Before-time feen him thus.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. The fhepherd knows not thunder from a

tabor,

More than I know the found of Marcius' tongue

From every meaner man's.

Mar. Come I too late?

Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own.

Mar. O! let me clip you

In arms as found, as when I woo'd; in heart
As merry, as when onr nuptial day was done,
And tapers burnt to bedward.

Com, Flower of warriors,

How is't with Titus Lartius?

Mar. As with a man bufted about decrees: Condemning fome to death, and fome to exile; Ranfoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,

Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
To let him flip at will.

Com. Where is that flave,

Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Where is he? Call him hither.

Mar. Let him alone,

He did inform the truth: But for our gentlemen, The common file (A plague! Tribunes for them!) The moufe ne'er fhunn'd the cat, as they did budge From raicals worfe then they.

Com. But how prevail'd you?

Mar. Will the time ferve to tell? I do not thinkWhere is the enemy? Are you lords o' the field? If not, why cease you 'till you are fo?

Com. Marcius, we have at difadvantage fought,

And did retire to win our purpose.

Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on what

They have plac'd their men of trust?

[fide

Com. As I guefs, Marcius,

Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates,

Of