Alarum, as in battle. Enter Martius and Aufidius at
I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee
Worse than a promise-breaker.
We hate alike.
Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.
Let the first budger die the other's slave,
And the gods doom him after.
If I fly, Martius,
Holloa me like a hare.
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
Wrench up thy power to th' highest.
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
Officious and not valiant, you have shamed me
In your condemned seconds.