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Vol.

Thou art my warrior;

I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? Cor. The noble sister of Publiccla,

The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle That's curded by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours,

Cor.

Vol.

Which by the interpretation of full time
May show like all yourself.

The god of soldiers, 70
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform

Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst prove
To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars

Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw

And saving those that eye thee!

Cor. That's my brave boy!

Your knee, sirrah.

Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady and myself
Are suitors to you.

Cor.

I beseech you, peace:

Or, if you 'ld ask, remember this before:

The thing I have forsworn to grant may never

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Be held by you denials. Do not bid me

Vol.

Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate

Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not
Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
To allay my rages and revenges with
Your colder reasons.

O, no more, no more!
You have said you will not grant us any thing;

For we have nothing else to ask, but that
Which you deny already: yet we will ask;

That, if you fail in our request, the blame

May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. Cor. Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we 'll

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Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment And state of bodies would bewray what life We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself How more unfortunate than all living women Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with

comforts,

ΙΟΙ

Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;
Making the mother, wife and child, to see
The son, the husband and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out. And to poor we
Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
Alas, how can we for our country pray,
Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
Our comfort in the country. We must find
An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win; for either thou
Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles thorough our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
And bear the palm for having bravely shed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
I purpose not to wait on fortune till

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee

III

Vir.

Boy.

Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
March to assault thy country than to tread-
Trust to 't, thou shalt not-on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

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Ay, and mine,
That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
Living to time.

A' shall not tread on me;

I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
I have sat too long.

Vol.

Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so that our request did tend

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy

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[Rising.

The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit

Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
May say 'This mercy we have show'd,' the Romans,
'This we received'; and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee, and cry 'Be blest

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For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war 's uncertain, but this certain,
That if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,

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