Page 2802 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

We hate alike.
Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.

MARTIUS
Let the first budger die the other’s slave, [5]
And the gods doom him after.

AUFIDIUS
If I fly, Martius,
Holloa me like a hare.

MARTIUS
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioles walls,

And made what work I pleased. ’Tis not my blood
Wherein thou seest me masked. For thy revenge [10]
Wrench up thy power to th’highest.

AUFIDIUS
Wert thou the Hector
That was the whip of your bragged progeny,

Thou shouldst not scape me here.

Here they fight, and certain Volsces come in the aid of Aufidius. Martius
fights till they be driven in breathless.

Officious and not valiant, you have shamed me
In your condemnèd seconds. [15]

Exeunt.

Scene IX IT

Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Enter, at one door, Cominius, with
the Romans; at another door, Martius, with his arm in a scarf.

COMINIUS