Coriolanus | Page 9

VII. The gates of Corioli.
[TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with a LIEUTENANT, a party of Soldiers, and a Scout.]
LARTIUS.?So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties?As I have set them down. If I do send, despatch?Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve?For a short holding: if we lose the field?We cannot keep the town.
LIEUTENANT.?Fear not our care, sir.
LARTIUS.?Hence, and shut your gates upon's.--?Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VIII. A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps.
[Alarum. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS.]
MARCIUS.?I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee?Worse than a promise-breaker.
AUFIDIUS.?We hate alike:?Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor?More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.
MARCIUS.?Let the first budger die the other's slave,?And the gods doom him after!
AUFIDIUS.?If I fly, Marcius,?Halloo me like a hare.
MARCIUS.?Within these three hours, Tullus,?Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,?And made what work I pleas'd: 'tis not my blood?Wherein thou seest me mask'd: for thy revenge?Wrench up thy power to the highest.
AUFIDIUS.?Wert thou the Hector?That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,?Thou shouldst not scape me here.--
[They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS.]
Officious, and not valiant,--you have sham'd me?In your condemned seconds.
[Exeunt fighting, driven in by MAR.]
SCENE IX. The Roman camp.
[Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, at one side, COMINIUS and Romans; at the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf, and other Romans.]
COMINIUS.?If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,?Thou't not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it?Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles;?Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug,?I' the end admire; where ladies shall be frighted?And, gladly quak'd, hear more; where the dull tribunes,?That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,?Shall say, against their hearts 'We thank the gods?Our Rome hath such a soldier.'?Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast,?Having fully dined before.
[Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit.]
LARTIUS.?O general,?Here is the steed, we the caparison:?Hadst thou beheld,--
MARCIUS.?Pray now, no more: my mother,?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.
COMINIUS.?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.
MARCIUS.?I have some wounds upon me, and they smart?To hear themselves remember'd.
COMINIUS.?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 achiev'd and city,?We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth?Before the common distribution at?Your only choice.
MARCIUS.?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.]
May these same instruments which you profane?Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall?I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be?Made all of false-fac'd soothing.?When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,?Let him be made a coverture for the wars.?No more, I say! for that I have not wash'd?My nose that bled, or foil'd 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 sauc'd with lies.
COMINIUS.?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 incens'd, we'll put you,--?Like one that means his proper harm,--in manacles,?Then reason safely with you.--Therefore be it known,?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!
CORIOLANUS.?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.
COMINIUS.?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