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Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].

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SCENE VIII. Field of Battle, between the Roman and Volcian Camps. Alarums, as of a Battle join'd: Enter, from opposite Sides, Marcius, and Aufidius.

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

Auf.
We hate alike;
Not Africk holds a serpent, I abhor
More than thy fame and envy:14Q0965 Fix thy foot.

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

-- 27 --

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 see'st me mask'd; for thy revenge,
Wrench up thy power to the highest.

Auf.
Wert thou the Hector,
That was the whip of your brag'd progeny,
Thou should'st not 'scape me here.— [They fight; and certain Volcians come to the Aid of Aufidius.
Officious, and not valiant, you have sham'd me
In your condemned seconds. [Exeunt fighting, driven in by Marcius. Alarum. Retreat.
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