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    Act 1. Scene IV

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    SCENE IV. Before Corioli.

    Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger
    MARCIUS
    Yonder comes news. A wager they have met.

    LARTIUS
    My horse to yours, no.

    MARCIUS
    'Tis done.

    LARTIUS
    Agreed.

    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 prithee, 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 two Senators with others on the walls

    Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls?

    First Senator
    No, nor a man that fears you less than he,
    That's lesser than a little.

    Drums 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 afar 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!

    Enter the army of the Volsces

    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.

    Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing

    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
    Further 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 followed.

    Another alarum. The Volsces fly, 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.

    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 the 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 sensibly 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 madst 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
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