SCENE VIII. A field of battle between the Roman and the Volscian camps

Alarum, as in battle. Enter Martius and Aufidius at several doors.

MARTIUS. I’ll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee Worse than a promise-breaker.

AUFIDIUS. We hate alike. Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.

MARTIUS. Let the first budger die the other’s slave, And the gods doom him after!

AUFIDIUS. If I fly, Martius, Hollo me like a hare.

MARTIUS. 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.

AUFIDIUS. 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 to the aid of Aufidius . ]

Officious and not valiant, you have shamed me In your condemned seconds.

[ Martius fights till they be driven in breathless. Aufidius and Martius exit, separately. ]