Printable version of this page

The Tragedy of Coriolanus: Act 1 Scene 4

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]