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. Fie! 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. Vol. Why, I pray you?

Vir. 'Tis not to save labor, nor that I want love. Val. You would be another Penelope, yet, they say, all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would, your cambric were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come; you shall go with us.

Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

Val. In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your husband.

Vir. O, good madam, there can be none yet.

Val. Verily, I do not jest with you: there came news from him last night.

Vir. Indeed, madam?

Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is:-The Volces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set down before their city Corioli;

they nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honor; and so, I pray, go with us.

Vir. Give me excuse, good madam: I will obey you in every thing hereafter.

Vol. Let her alone, lady; as she is now, she will but disease our better mirth.

Val. In troth, I think she would :—fare you well then. Come, good sweet lady.-Pr'ythee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out o' door, and go along with

us.

Vir. No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish you much mirth.

Val. Well, then farewell.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Before Corioli.

Enter, with drum and colors, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Officers, and Soldiers. To them a messenger. Mar. Yonder comes news. A wager, they have

Mar. Say, has our general met the enemy.

Mes. They lie in view, but have not spoke as

yet.

Lar. So, the good horse is mine.

Mar.

I'll buy him of you.

Lar. No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you

him I will

For half a hundred years. Summon the town.
Mar. How far off lie these armies ?

Mes.

Within this mile and half.

Mar. 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?

1 Sen. No, nor a man that fears you less than he,

That's lesser than a little.

Hark, our drums

[alarums afar off.

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.

Hark you, far off;

[other alarums.

There is Aufidius: list, what work he makes

Amongst your cloven army.

Mar.

O, they are at it!

Lar. Their noise be our instruction.-Ladders,

ho!

The Volces enter, and pass over the stage.

Mar. 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 Volce,
And he shall feel mine edge.

Alarum, and exeunt Romans and Volces, fighting. The Romans are beaten back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS.

Mar. 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 followed.

Another alarum.

The Volces and Romans re-enter,

and the fight is renewed. The Volces retire into Corioli, and Marcius follows them to the gates.

So, now the gates are ope : now prove good

seconds:

3 Sol. See, they have shut him in.

1 Sol. 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.

Lar.

O noble fellow !

Who, sensible, outdares his senseless sword,

And, when it bows, stands up! Thou art left, Marcius:

A carbuncle intire, 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