Act IScene X
The camp of the Volsces
A flourish. Cornets. Enter Tullus Aufidius, bloody, with two or three soldiers.
Aufidius
The town is ta’en.
Soldier
’Twill be delivered back on good condition.
Aufidius
Condition?I would I were a Roman, for I cannot,Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition?What good condition can a treaty findI’ th’ part that is at mercy? Five times, Martius,I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat meAnd wouldst do so, I think, should we encounterAs often as we eat. By th’ elements,If e’er again I meet him beard to beard,He’s mine or I am his. Mine emulationHath not that honour in’t it had; for whereI thought to crush him in an equal force,True sword to sword, I’ll potch at him some way,Or wrath or craft may get him.
Soldier
He’s the devil.
Aufidius
Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour’s poisonedWith only suff’ring stain by him; for himShall fly out of itself. Nor sleep nor sanctuary,Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,Embarquements all of fury, shall lift upTheir rotten privilege and custom ’gainstMy hate to Martius. Where I find him, were itAt home, upon my brother’s guard, even there,Against the hospitable canon, would IWash my fierce hand in’s heart. Go you to th’ city;Learn how ’tis held and what they are that mustBe hostages for Rome.
Soldier
Will not you go?
Aufidius
I am attended at the cypress grove. I pray you—’Tis south the city mills,—bring me word thitherHow the world goes, that to the pace of itI may spur on my journey.
Soldier
I shall, sir.
Exeunt.