Coriolanus Act 1.4.8

Scene 1.4.8

The hero in the making

“Breathe in, my friends; well fought; we are to come off like Romans, neither foolish in our stands.” Cominius spoke out in admiration. “Nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs, we shall charge once more.”

Cominius saw from the distance the messenger he had sent to relay the command to the other commanders. The messenger arrived in pants and hastily through a salute for the General.

“The news?” General Cominius was impatience for the reply.

“The citizens of Corioli have given battle to Lartius and Marcius. I saw our army driven to the trenches. I stole away to come here.”

“You speak of leaving your responsibility.”  A trooper duty was to fight alongside his brothers in arms. “How long was it since?”

“Above a short period of time. “ The messenger did not specify the period but used ambiguous terms.

“It’s not a long distance, briefly we heard their guns.” Cominius recount the distance from the roar of the guns. “How could you cover such a distance with such slow pace?”

“I was diverted by the Volsces army. They had me divert to evade them.” The messenger explained his delay but the General was past listening. The later was looking to the near distance of a limping officer.

“Who’s yonder that appeared to be wounded?” Cominius voiced out. “Oh, my God! He has the looks of Marcius.”

“Am I late?” It was the voice of Martius. He was the one approaching with the limp.

“I knew that voice.” Cominius replied. “More from any meaner man who spoke of Marcius’ curses.”

“Come, am I late?” Martius asked once again. The General stepped forth to meet his officer.

“Aye, I hope the blood on you is not of yours but others.”

“Oh let me clip you in my arms as when I wooed you with my heart.” Martius voiced out with sarcasm. He had heard of men falling for each especially in times of isolation; he wanted to smite the General of it. “The merry over when our nuptial day was done, and tapered to the bed.”

“Flowers of warriors!” The General laughed. “How is it with Titus Lartius?”

“A busy man with commands, calling them to death and some to exile; be it a ransom or pitying; threatening the other. 

He holds Corioli in the name of Rome.”

It was then the General of the messenger who brought ill reports of the battle scene.

“Where is that knave who told me they had you beaten to the trenches?” General Cominius was agitated. “Where is he? Call him here.”

“Leave him.” Marcius interrupted the order. “He did inform the truth but for our gentlemen, the common …”

Marcius mind reeled onto him images of Commoners that he despised. He continued on.

“He was the mouse that never shunned the cat as they did budge from rascals than they.”

“How do you prevail?” Cominius showed concern for the fellow officer and friend.

“Will the time serve to tell?” Marcius looked to the battle scene on the horizon. The army under Cominius had held back on their attack. “Where is the enemy? Are lords of the scene? If not, why are we retreating there?”

Cominius explained his strategy. He had beaten the enemy but he would proceed with caution.

“We have at disadvantage fought and did,” Cominius had won a battle against odds, and thought a respite was due. 

“Retire now to win our purpose.”

“How lays their battle? Know yourself of which side they have placed their men of trust?” Marcius looked to the General.

“Their bands there are the vanguard; the Antiates,” General Cominius point to the distant walls. “Their very best and trusted one with Aufidius in command; he who is their heart of hope.”

“I do beseech you, by all the battles we have fought, by the blood we have shed together, by the vows we have taken as friends; you are to directly set me against Aufidius and his Antiates.” Marcius declared his intentions loudly. “Do not delay the present, but filled the land with tanks and troopers.”

“I would have suggested a bath and rubdown with the best of my ladies, yet I dare never to deny you’re asking. Take your choice of those that best can aid your action.” Cominius told his brave commander.

“Those are they that most willing.” Marcius looked to the trooper rallied near him when they heard he had returned.

“If any such be here, if its sin to doubt, love this painting wherein you see me smeared.” Marcius had pointed to scenic view of the walls. “If any fear lesser of his person with an ill report; if any think brave death outweighs bad life and that his country dearer than himself; let him alone wave thus and follow Marcius.”

The assembled inspired by the commander words and then shouted out.

“Of me alone! Make you a trooper of me.”

The troopers marched towards the Colonel.