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Auf Nor did you think it folly, To keep your great pretences veil'd, till when They needs must show themselves; which in the
0, doubt not that;
The gods assist you ! Auf. And keep your honours safe! i Sen.
Farewell. 2 Sen.
Farewell. All, Farewell.
Rome. An apartment in Marcius' House. Enter VOLUMNIA, and VIRGILIA: They sit down on
two low stools, and sew. Vol. I pray you, daughter, sing; or express.yourself in a more comfortable sort:- If my son were my husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he won honour, than in the embracements of his bed, where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender-body'd, and the only son of my womb; when youth with comeliness pluck'd all gaze his way; when, for a day of kings' entreaties, a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding; 1,-considering how honour would become such a person; that it was no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if renown made it not stir --was pleased to let him seek danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he return’d, his brows bound with oak?. I tell thee, daughter,-I sprang not more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child, than now in first seeing he had proved himself a man.
Vir. But had he died in the business, madam? how then ?
Vol. Then his good report should have been my son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me profess sincerely:-Had I a dozen sons,-each in
my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius,- I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country, that one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
Enter a Gentlewoman.
Gent. Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit you. Vir. 'Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.
Vol. Indeed, you shall not. Methinks, I hear hither your husband's drum; See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair ; As children from a bear, the Volces shunning him: Methinks, I see him stamp thus, and call thus,Come on, you cowards; you were got in fear, Though you were born in Rome: His bloody brow With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes; Like to a harvest-man, that's task'd to mow Or all, or lose his hire.
Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood!
Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man, Than gilt his trophy: The breasts of Hecuba, When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood At Grecian swords' contending.-Tell Valeria, We are fit to bid her welcome.
[Exit Gent, Vir. Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!
Vol. He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee,“ And tread upon his neck.
Re-enter Gentlewoman, with VALERIA and her Usher.
Val. My ladies both, good day to you.
Val. How do you both? you are manifest housekeepers. What, are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith.-How does your little son?
Vir. I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.
Vol. He had rather see the swords, and hear à drum, than look upon his school-master.
Val. O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear, 'tis a very pretty boy. 0' my troth, I look'd upon him o' Wednesday half an hour together: he has such a confirm'd countenance. I saw his run after a gilded butterfly; and when he caught it, he let it go again; and after it again; and over and over he comes, and up again; catch'd it again: or whether his fall enrag'd him, or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth, and tear it; 0, I warrant, how he mammock'd it!!
Vol. One of his father's moods.
Val. Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon.
Vir. No, good madam; I will not out of doors.
Vir. Indeed, no, by your patience: I will not over the threshold, till my lord return from the wars.
Val. Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in.
Vir. I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with my prayers; but I cannot go thither,
Vol. Why, I pray you?
Val, You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all the yarn, she spun in Ulysses' absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would, your cambrick were sensible as your finger, that you might leave pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.
Vir. No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.
Val. In truth la, go with me; and I'll tell you excellent news of your
Val. Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from him last night.
Vir. Indeed, madam?
Val. In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. Thus it is :-The Yolces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power: your lord, and Titus Lartius, are set down before their city Corioli; they nor thing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief wars. This is true, on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.
Vir. Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every thing hereafter.