The Tragedy of Coriolanus, William Shakespeare [read dune txt] 📗

wish you much mirth.

VALERIA. Well then, farewell.

[Exeunt.]


SCENE IV. Before Corioli.

[Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Officers, and soldiers.]

MARCIUS. Yonder comes news: - a wager they have met.

LARTIUS. My horse to yours, no.

MARCIUS. 'Tis done.

LARTIUS. Agreed.

[Enter a Messenger.]

MARCIUS. Say, has our general met the enemy?

MESSENGER. They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.

LARTIUS. So, the good horse is mine.

MARCIUS. I'll buy him of you.

LARTIUS. No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will For half a hundred years. - Summon the town.

MARCIUS. How far off lie these armies?

MESSENGER. Within this mile and half.

MARCIUS. 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?

FIRST SENATOR. No, nor a man that fears you less than he, That's lesser than a little. [Drum afar off] Hark, our drums 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. [Alarum far off.] Hark you far off! There is Aufidius; list what work he makes Amongst your cloven army.

MARCIUS. O, they are at it!

LARTIUS. Their noise be our instruction. - Ladders, ho!

[The Volsces enter and pass over.]

MARCIUS. 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 Volsce, And he shall feel mine edge.

[Alarums, and exeunt Romeans and Volsces fighting. Romans are beaten back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS.]

MARCIUS. 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 Farther 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.

[Another alarum. The Volsces and Romans re-enter, and the fight is renewed. The Volsces 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]

FIRST SOLDIER. Fool-hardiness: not I.

SECOND SOLDIER. Nor I.

[MARCIUS is shut in.]

FIRST SOLDIER. See, they have shut him in.

ALL. To th' pot, I warrant him.

[Alarum continues]

[Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS.]

LARTIUS. What is become of Marcius?

ALL. Slain, sir, doubtless.

FIRST SOLDIER. 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.

LARTIUS. O noble fellow! Who sensible, outdares his senseless sword, And when it bows stands up! Thou art left, Marcius: A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier 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.]

FIRST SOLDIER. Look, sir.

LARTIUS. O, 'tis Marcius! Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

[They fight, and all enter the city.]


SCENE V. Within Corioli. A street.

[Enter certain Romans, with spoils.]

FIRST ROMAN. This will I carry to Rome.

SECOND ROMAN. And I this.

THIRD ROMAN. A murrain on't! I took this for silver.

[Alarum continues still afar off.]

[Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet.]

MARCIUS. See here these movers that do prize their hours At a crack'd drachma! 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; Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste To help Cominius.

LARTIUS. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; Thy exercise hath been too violent For a second course of fight.

MARCIUS. Sir, praise me not; My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well; The blood I drop is rather physical Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight.

LARTIUS. Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, Prosperity be thy page!

MARCIUS. Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! - So farewell.

LARTIUS. Thou worthiest Marcius! -

[Exit MARCIUS.]

Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; Call thither all the officers o' the town, Where they shall know our mind: away!

[Exeunt.]


SCENE VI. Near the camp of COMINIUS.

[Enter COMINIUS and Foreces, retreating.]

COMINIUS. Breathe you, my friends: well fought; we are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck, By interims and conveying gusts we have heard The charges of our friends. The Roman gods, Lead their successes as we wish our own, That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering, May give you thankful sacrifice! -

[Enter A MESSENGER.]

Thy news?

MESSENGER. The citizens of Corioli have issued, And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: I saw our party to their trenches driven, And then I came away.

COMINIUS. Though thou speak'st truth, Methinks thou speak'st not well. How long is't since?

MESSENGER. Above an hour, my lord.

COMINIUS. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour, And bring thy news so late?

MESSENGER. Spies of the Volsces Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel Three or four miles about; else had I, sir, Half an hour since brought my report.

COMINIUS. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods! He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have Before-time seen him thus.

MARCIUS. [Within.] Come I too late?

COMINIUS. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue From every meaner man.

[Enter MARCIUS.]

MARCIUS. Come I too late?

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

MARCIUS. O! let me clip ye In arms as sound as when I woo'd; in heart As merry as when our nuptial day was done, And tapers burn'd to bedward.

COMINIUS. Flower of warriors, How is't with Titus Lartius?

MARCIUS. As with a man busied about decrees: Condemning some to death and some to exile; Ransoming him or pitying, threat'ning the other; Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, To let him slip at will.

COMINIUS. Where is that slave Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Where's he? call him hither.

MARCIUS. Let him alone; He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, The common file, - a plague! - tribunes for them! - The mouse ne'er shunned the cat as they did budge From rascals worse than they.

COMINIUS. But how prevail'd you?

MARCIUS. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field? If not, why cease you till you are so?

COMINIUS. Marcius, We have at disadvantage fought, and did Retire, to win our purpose.

MARCIUS. How lies their battle? know you on which side They have placed their men of trust?

COMINIUS. As I guess, Marcius, Their bands in the vaward are the Antiates, Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, Their very heart of hope.

MARCIUS. I do beseech you, By all the battles wherein we have fought, By the blood we have shed together, by the vows We have made to endure friends, that you directly Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates; And that you not delay the present, but, Filling the air with swords advanc'd and darts, We prove this very hour.

COMINIUS. Though I could wish You were conducted to a gentle bath, And balms applied to you, yet dare I never Deny your asking: take your choice of those That best can aid your action.

MARCIUS. Those are they That most are willing. - If any such be here, - As it were sin to doubt, - that love this painting Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear Lesser his person than an ill report; If any think brave death outweighs bad life, And that his country's dearer than himself; Let him alone, or so many so minded, Wave thus [waving his hand], to express his disposition, And follow Marcius.

[They all shout and wave their swords; take him up in their arms and cast up their caps.]

O, me alone! Make you a sword of me? If these shows be not outward, which of you But is four Volsces? none of you but is Able to bear against the great Aufidius A shield as hard as his. A certain number, Though thanks to all, must I select from all: the rest Shall bear the business in some other fight, As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; And four shall quickly draw out my command, Which men are best inclin'd.

COMINIUS. March on, my fellows; Make good this ostentation, and you shall Divide in all with us.

[Exeunt.]


SCENE 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.