The camp of the Volsces.
A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers
The town is ta’en!
’Twill be deliver’d back on good condition.
I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
5Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find
I’ the part that is at mercy? Five times, Martius,
I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
10As often as we eat. By the elements,
If e’er again I meet him beard to beard,
He’s mine, or I am his: mine emulation
Hath not that honour in’t it had; for where
I thought to crush him in an equal force,
15True sword to sword, I’ll potch at him some way
Or wrath or craft may get him.
He’s the devil.
Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour’s poison’d
With only suffering stain by him; for him
20Shall 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 up
Their rotten privilege and custom ’gainst
25My hate to Martius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother’s guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in’s heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how ’tis held; and what they are that must
30Be hostages for Rome.