I leave your honors.

If we and Caius Martius chance to meet,

'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike

Till one can do no more.

ALL.

The gods assist you!

AUF.

And keep your honors safe!

1. SEN.

Farewell.

2. SEN.

Farewell.

ALL.

Farewell.

 

Exeunt omnes.

 

 

[Scene III]

Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife to Martius; they set them 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 honor than in the embracements of his bed where he would show most love. When yet he was but tender-bodied 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; I, considering how honor would become such a person, that it was no better than picture- like to hang by th' wall, if renown made it not stir, was pleas'd 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 mores in joy at first hearing he was a man-child than now in first seeing he had prov'd 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 Martius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country than 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 th' hair;

As children from a bear, the Volsces 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 sword, [contemning]. Tell Valeria

We are fit to bid her welcome.

 

Exit Gentlewoman.

 

VIR.

Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!

VOL.

He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee,

And tread upon his neck.

 

Enter Valeria with an Usher and a Gentlewoman.

 

VAL. My ladies both, good day to you.

VOL. Sweet madam.

VIR. I am glad to see your ladyship.

VAL. How do you both? You are manifest house- keepers. 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 a drum than look upon his schoolmaster.

VAL. A' my word, the father's son. I'll swear 'tis a very pretty boy. A' my troth, I look'd upon him a' We'n'sday half an hour together; h'as such a confirm'd countenance. I saw him 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. O, I warrant, how he mammock'd it!

VOL. One on 's father's moods.

VAL. Indeed la, 'tis a noble child.

VIR.