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Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius,
Though Marcius earn'd them not; and all his faults

To Marcius shall be honours, though, indeed,

In aught he merit not.

Sic.

Let's hence, and hear

How the despatch is made; and in what fashion,

More than in singularity, he goes

Upon his present action.
Bru.

Let's along. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Corioli. The Senate-House.

Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, and certain Senators.

1 Sen. So, your opinion is, Aufidius, That they of Rome are enter'd in our counsels,

And know how we proceed.

Auf.
Is it not yours?
What ever hath been thought on in this state,
That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome

Had circumvention! 'Tis not four days gone,-
Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think,

[Reads.

I have the letter here; yes, here it is :
They have press'd a power, but it is not known
Whether for east, or west: The dearth is great;
The people mutinous : and it is rumour'd,
Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,

(Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,)
And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,.
These three lead on this preparation

Pre-occupation.

Whither 'tis bent: most likely, 'tis for you:
Consider of it.

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To keep your great pretences veil'd, till when

They needs must show themselves; which in the

hatching,

It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery,
We shall be shorten'd in our aim; which was,
To take in many towns, ere, almost, Rome

Should know we were afoot.

2 Sen.

Noble Aufidius,

Take your commission; hie you to your bands :
Let us alone to guard Corioli:

If they set down before us, for the remove

Bring up your army; but, I think, you'll find

They have not prepar'd for us.

Auf.

O, doubt not that;

I speak from certainties. Nay, more.

Some parcels of their powers are forth already,
And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,

'Tis sworn between us, we shall never strike

Till one can do no more.

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SCENE III.

Rome. An Apartment in Marcius' House. Enter VOLUMNIA, and VIRGILIA: They sit down on two low stools, and sew.

Vol. I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a more comfortable sort: If my son were my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour, than in the embracements of his bed, where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way; when, for a day of kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding; I, considering how honour would become such a person; that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child, than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.

Vir. But had he died in the business, madam? how then?

Vol. Then his good report should have been my son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely: Had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius,-I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country, than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.

2 Attracted attention.

Enter a Gentlewoman.

Gent. Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit

you.

Vir. 'Beseech you, give me leave to retire3 myself.
Vol. Indeed, you shall not.

Methinks, I hear hither your husband's drum;
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair;

As children from a bear, the Volces shunning him:
Methinks, I see him stamp thus, and call thus,-
Come on, you cowards, you were got in fear,
Though you were born in Rome: His bloody brow
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes;
Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood!
Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man,
Than gilt his trophy: The breasts of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood
At Grecian swords' contending.-Tell Valeria,
We are fit to bid her welcome.

[Exit Gent.

Vir. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee, And tread upon his neck.

Re-enter Gentlewoman, with VALERIA and her

Usher.

Val. My ladies both, good day to you.

3 Withdraw,

1

Vol. Sweet madam,

Vir. I am glad to see your ladyship.

Val. How do you both? you are manifest housekeepers. What, are you sewing here! A find spot,4 in good faith.-How does your little son?

Vir. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. Vol. He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than look upon his school-master.

Val. O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear, 'tis a very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' Wednesday half an hour together: he has such a confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded butterfly; and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again, and over and over he comes, and up again; catched it again: or whether his fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth, and tear it; O, I warrant, how he mammocked it!

Vol. One of his father's moods.
Val. Indeed la, 'tis a noble child.
Vir. A crack,6 madam.

Val. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have
you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon.
Vir. No, good madam; I will not out of doors.
Val. Not out of doors!
Vol. She shall, she shall.

Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience: I will not over the threshold, till my lord return from the wars. Val. Fye, you confine yourself most unreasonably; Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in. Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither.

• Of work.

5 Tore.

• Boy.

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