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Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
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Scene 5 SCENE changes to the Roman Camp. Enter Cominius retreating, with Soldiers.

Com.
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 charg'd 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 encountring,
May give you thankful sacrifice! Thy news?

-- 23 --

Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
The citizens of Corioli have issued,
And given to Lartius and to Marcius battel.
I saw our Party to their trenches driven,
And then I came away.

Com.
Tho' thou speak'st truth,
Methinks, thou speak'st not well. How long is't since?

Mes.
Above an hour, my lord.

Com.
'Tis not a mile: briefly, we heard their drums.
How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour,
And bring the news so late?

Mes.
Spies of the Volscians
Held me in chase, that I was forc'd to wheel
Three or four miles about; else had I, Sir,
Half an hour since brought my report.
Enter Marcius.

Com.
Who's yonder,
That does appear as he were flea'd? O Gods!
He has the stamp of Marcius, and I have
Before time seen him thus.

Mar.
Come I too late?

Com.
The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor,(8) note





More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue
From every meaner man.

Mar.
Come I too late?

Com.
Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
But mantled in your own.

-- 24 --

Mar.
Oh! let me clip ye(9) note

In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart
As merry, as when our nuptial day was done,
And tapers burnt to bedward.

Com.
Flower of Warriors,
How is't with Titus Lartius?

Mar.
As with a man busied about Decrees;
Condemning some to death, and some to exile,
Ransoming him, or pitying, threatning th' other;
Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,
Even like a fawning grey-hound in the leash,
To let him slip at will.

Com.
Where is that slave,
Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?
Where is he? call him hither.

Mar.
Let him alone,
He did inform the truth: but, for our gentlemen,
The common file, (a plague! Tribunes for them!)
The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat, as they did budge
From rascals worse than they.

Com.
But how prevail'd you?

Mar.
Will the time serve to tell? I do not think—
Where is the enemy? are you lords o'th' field?
If not, why cease you till you are so?

Com.
Marcius, we have at disadvantage fought,
And did retire to win our purpose.

Mar.
How lies their battel? know you on what side
They have plac'd their men of trust?

Com.
As I guess, Marcius,
Their bands i'th' vaward are the Antiates
Of their best trust: o'er them Aufidius,
Their very heart of hope.

Mar.
I do beseech you,
By all the battels wherein we have fought,

-- 25 --


By th' blood w'ave shed together, by the vows
W'ave made to endure friends, that you directly
Set me against Aufidius, and his Antiates;
And that you not delay the present, but
Filling the air with swords advanc'd, and darts,
We prove this very hour.—

Com.
Though I could wish,
You were conducted to a gentle bath,
And balms applied to you, yet dare I never
Deny your asking; take your choice of those,
That best can aid your action.

Mar.
Those are they,
That most are willing; If any such be here,
(As it were sin to doubt) that love this Painting,
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Less for his person than an ill report:
If any think, brave death out-weighs bad life,
And that his Country's dearer than himself,
Let him, alone, (or many, if so minded)
Wave thus, t'express his disposition,
And follow Marcius. [They all shout, and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps.
Oh! me alone, make you a sword of me:
If these shews be not outward, which of you
But is four Volscians? none of you, but is
Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number
(Tho' thanks to all) must I select from all:
The rest shall bear the business in some other fight,
As cause will be obey'd; please you to march,
And four shall quickly draw out my Command,
Which men are best inclin'd.

Com.
March on, my fellows:
Make good this ostentation, and you shall
Divide in all with us.
[Exeunt.

-- 26 --

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Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
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