How now (my as fair as noble) ladies, and the moon, were she earthly, no nobler; whither do you follow your eyes so fast?

Vol.

Honourable Menenius, my boy Martius approaches; for the love of Juno let's go.

Men.

Ha! Martius coming home?

Vol.

Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous approbation.

Men.

Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee—hoo, Martius coming home!

Both.

Nay, 'tis true.

Vol.

Look, here's a letter from him, the State hath another, his wife another, and I think there's one at home for you.

Men.

I will make my very house reel to-night: A letter for me!

Vir.

Yes, certain, there's a letter for you, I saw't.

Men.

A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven years health; in which time I will make a lip at the physician: the most soveraign prescription in Galen is but Emperic, and to this preservative of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.

Vir.

Oh no, no, no.

Vol.

Oh, he is wounded, I thank the Gods for't.

Men.

So do I too, if he be not too much; brings he a victory in his pocket? the wounds become him.

Vol.

On's brows; Menenius, he comes the third time home with the oaken garland.

Men.

Hath he disciplin'd Aufidius soundly?

Vol.

Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.

Men.

And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: if he had staid by him, I would not have been so fidius'd for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold that's in them. Is the Senate possest of this?

Vol.

Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes: the Senate has letters from the General, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war: he hath in this action out-done his former deeds doubly.

Val.

In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.

Men.

Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his true purchasing.

Vir.

The Gods grant them true.

Vol.

True? pow waw.

Men.

True? I'll be sworn they are true. Where is he wounded, God save your good worships? Martius is coming home; he has more cause to be proud: where is he wounded?

Vol.

I'th' shoulder, and i'th' left arm; there will be large cicatrices to shew the people, when he shall stand for his place. He receiv'd in the repulse of Tarquin seven hurts i'th' body.

Men.

One i'th' neck, and two i'th' thigh; there's nine that I know.

Vol.

He had, before his last expedition, twenty five wounds upon him.

Men.

Now 'tis twenty seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. Hark, the trumpets.

Vol.

These are the ushers of Martius; before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:

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