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. Follow.

⌈The Romans come forward towards the walls.⌉ Another alarum, and ⌈enter the army of the Volsces.⌉ Martius beats them back ⌈through⌉ 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

Foolhardiness! Not I.

SECOND SOLDIER Nor I.

Alarum continues. The gates close, and Martius is shut in

FIRST SOLDIER

See, they have shut him in.

⌈THIRD SOLDIER⌉ To th’ pot, I warrant him.

Enter Lartius

LARTIUS

What is become of Martius?

⌈FOURTH SOLDIER⌉

Slain, sir, doubtless.

FIRST SOLDIER

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.

LARTIUS

O noble fellow,

Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword

And, when it bows, stand‘st up! Thou art lost, Martius.

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.

Enter Martius, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy

FIRST SOLDIER Look, sir.

LARTIUS O, ’tis Martius!

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

They fight, and all exeunt into the city

1.6 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.

⌈He throws it away.⌉

Alarum continues still afar off. Enter Martius,

bleeding, and Lartius with a trumpeter. Exeunt

Romans with spoils

MARTIUS

See here these movers that do prize their honours

At a cracked 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.

MARTIUS Sir, praise me not.

My work hath yet not warmed 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.

MARTIUS Thy friend no less

Than those she placeth highest. So farewell.

LARTIUS Thou worthiest Martius!

Exit Martius

Go sound thy trumpet in the market-place.

Call thither all the officers o’th’ town,

Where they shall know our mind. Away.

Exeunt ⌈severally⌉

1.7 Enter Cominius, as it were in retire, with soldiers

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 charged 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

encount’ring,

May give you thankful sacrifice!

Enter a Messenger

Thy news?

MESSENGER

The citizens of Corioles have issued,

And given to Lartius and to Martius 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 forced to wheel

Three or four miles about; else had I, sir,

Half an hour since brought my report. ⌈Exit⌉

Enter Martius, bloody

COMINIUS Who’s yonder,

That does appear as he were flayed? O gods!

He has the stamp of Martius, and I have

Before-time seen him thus.

MARTIUS Come I too late?

COMINIUS

The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor

More than I know the sound of Martius’ tongue

From every meaner man.

MARTIUS Come I too late?

COMINIUS

Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,

But mantled in your own.

MARTIUS O, let me clip ye

In arms as sound as when I wooed, in heart

As merry as when our nuptial day was done,

And tapers burnt to bedward!

⌈They embrace⌉

COMINIUS

Flower of warriors! How is’t with Titus Lartius?

MARTIUS

As with a man busied about decrees,

Condemning some to death and some to exile,

Ransoming him or pitying, threat‘ning th’other;

Holding Corioles in the name of Rome