Page:Coriolanus (1924) Yale.djvu/39

The Tragedy of Coriolanus, I. viii 

Lart. So; let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,

As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch

Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve

For a short holding: if we lose the field,

We cannot keep the town.

Lieu. Fear not our care, sir.

Lart. Hence, and shut your gates upon 's.

Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.

Exit.

Mar. I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee

Worse than a promise-breaker.

Auf. We hate alike:

Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor

More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.

Mar. Let the first budger die the other's slave,

And the gods doom him after!

Auf. If I fly, Martius,

 1 ports: gates

3 centuries: companies  (viii) 4 fame and envy: rivalry in fame(?)

