Page:Coriolanus (1924) Yale.djvu/32

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Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd

Further than seen, and one infect another

Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,

That bear the shapes of men, how have you run

From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!

All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale

With flight and agu'd fear! Mend and charge home,

Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe

And make my wars on you; look to 't: come on;

If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,

As they us to our trenches follows.

So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds:

'Tis for the followers Fortune widens them,

Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.

Enter the gates.

1. Sol. Foolhardiness! not I.

2. Sol. Nor I.

Alarum continues.

1. Sol. See, they have shut him in.

All. To the pot, I warrant him.

Lart. What is become of Martius?

All. Slain, sir, doubtless.

1. Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels,

With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,

Clapp'd-to their gates; he is himself alone,

To answer all the city.

Lart. O noble fellow!

 34 Against mile; cf. n.

38 Mend: reform

42 follows; cf. n.

43 seconds: assistants

47 pot: cooking-pot; i.e, destruction

51 himself alone: quite alone

52 answer: withstand

