Mar.
I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee
Worse than a promise-breaker.

Auf.
We hate alike;
Not Africk owns a serpent, I abhor
More than thy fame and envy: Fix thy foot.

Mar.
Let the first budger die the other's slave,
And the gods doom him after!

Auf.
If I fly, Marcius,
Halloo me like a hare.

Mar.
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleas'd: 'Tis not my blood,
Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge,
Wrench up thy power to the highest.

Auf.
^{4 note}

Officious, and not valiant!—^{5 note}