previous next

SCENE VIII

A field of battle.
Alarum as in battle. 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 Afric 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,

Holloa me like a hare.

Mar.
Within these three hours, Tullus,

Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,

And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood

Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge

Wrench up thy power to the highest. (11)

Auf.
Wert thou the Hector

That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,

Thou shouldst not scape me here. They fight and certain Volsces come in the aid of Aufidius. Marcius fights till they be driven in breathless.


Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me

In your condemned seconds. Exeunt.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.

An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.

load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, Jr., A. B.; Litt. D.)
load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, Jr., A. B.; Litt. D.)
load focus English (Horace Howard Furness, Jr., A. B.; Litt. D.)
hide References (7 total)
hide Display Preferences
Greek Display:
Arabic Display:
View by Default:
Browse Bar: